He loaded up the water. It would accomplish two things — give them water back at their own camp, and deprive these bastards at the same time. He felt like he was in some grand game of capture the flag. He found both a handheld and the base radio. Loaded those up.
Angie handed him a sandwich. He ate it hungrily. She’d also found some Pepsi.
“No Mountain Dew,” she said, laughter in her voice.
He grinned. “Be kind of creepy if they did.”
“You going to slash tires and such like they did ours?”
He shook his head. “Nope,” he said. “I’m taking all the keys.” And depending on how this all turned out? He could give them back, or he could make them replace the fobs. And that was expensive. He grinned at the thought.
“I found something,” she said slowly. “You need to take a look at it, I think.”
He followed her back into the area they had their supplies and ammo.
“Is that what I think it is?” she asked, pointing at small stack of what looked like bricks — except for the C-4 clearly stamped on the sides.
“Shit,” Mac said. He looked around, looking for blasting caps or detonators. He tossed the whole area, without finding them. “Fuck, is someone carrying them?” he muttered.
“Mac?” Angie asked worried.
“Yeah, it’s C-4,” he said tersely. “Stable enough like that. It’s the damn detonators I can’t see. And that’s enough C-4 to blow up both camps and a whole lot of dead bodies.”
“Hard to explain that away!”
How would he do it? He thought about it. “All these weapons?” he said. “I’d say something happened, and the weapons caches exploded. And since Norton has every intention on being the first responder to the explosions? He probably could get away with it. Although that’s a hell of a lot of C-4 to get that done. You could bring down the whole mountain.”
She frowned. “Or blow up the road so that people couldn’t get in here?” she asked.
“Maybe? It’s late in the season for an avalanche, and we seem to be below the snow zone,” he said, thinking out loud. Chase us further up the slopes? Or carry a dozen dead bodies up past the snow line and bring down an avalanche? What the hell was Norton thinking?
He sighed. “Back the car around to here?” He tossed her the keys.
He started carrying the C-4 out of the tent and toward the SUV. Couldn’t leave it, he thought. But it would be a damn sight easier to just take the blasting caps. He looked at the barbeque as he carried out the bricks and stacked them in the back of the SUV.
“That safe?” Angie asked.
“C-4 is remarkably stable,” he said. “I could light it on fire, and it would just smolder. Even if I shot it, it’s unlikely to do anything. It needs a detonator. And someone has those stashed in their backpack, or somewhere else in camp. I’d rather find those, but we don’t have the time, and they might not even be here. So, we’ll take the C-4.”
He looked at the barbeque again. He shrugged, and opened up a brick, took out some about the size of a wad of gum and worked it in around the ignition to the barbeque. “Might not do anything,” he said. “But what the hell?”
“Mac!” Angie said scandalized. “It will kill someone!”
He shrugged. Thought about that dead boy out there. “Tough shit,” he said.
She looked at him for a moment. Then nodded sharply. “We going back?” she asked. “Because we should go while there’s still some light and maybe you won’t need headlights. Those headlights will show quite a ways.”
Yes, they would, he thought, and nodded. “Anything else we need? Or need to do here?” He looked around. The handheld in the front seat crackled.
“Getting dark, boss,” a voice said. “We should head back to camp.”
“We haven’t found him yet,” Norton’s voice said.
“And we’re not going to tonight,” a third person said. “Time to call it in.”
“All right, yes,” Norton said impatiently. “See you at camp.”
“Time to get out of here,” Mac said.
He started the SUV, backed it around, and headed out to the road, such as it was. This Explorer handled the ruts better than his 4-Runner did, he admitted. But he was running without lights, which meant sliding in and then grinding his way out of the ruts when he misjudged the shadows, and it was slowing him down. He shook his head.
“Going to have to go to lights,” he said.
“Our camp is another 30 minutes,” she said.
He frowned. The radio crackled. “Son of a bitch!” someone said.
Mac laughed. “OK, lights it is,” he said. “We’ve got to go for speed.”
He turned them on, carefully accelerating as his eyes adjusted. The woods seemed darker and more threatening illuminated by the headlights. It flattened them into a 2-dimensional barrier. He avoided looking away from the rutted dirt tracks.
“There’s a turn coming,” Angie said, she’d found — or had — a pen flashlight, and was studying the map. “Look to your left.”
Mac slowed a bit, not wanting to miss it. The radio was alive with sounds of angry men. “We need to get back before they decide a night hike to our camp is a doable thing,” he said.
“There!” Angie said and pointed. Mac took the turn, and the SUV bounced a bit as he crossed the ruts, and the Explorer tires slipped on the muddy edges. He kept the gas steady, his arms locked so that the steering wheel didn’t jerk away.
Sand is worse, he reminded himself. Although he wasn’t sure it was true. Regardless, this was different than that war zone. But a war zone nevertheless, his hindbrain insisted. Yes, it was, he thought.
“Up ahead,” Angie said. “But they’re not going to know it’s us, Mac.”
“Great,
