Dark Justice

Rick shrugged. “Turned out Al didn’t look so hot in black fur. Angora goes better with his complexion.”

Al rolled his eyes. “Let’s return our attention to the matter at hand, team, shall we? They’re moving.”

There were two distinct groups of men in the clearing, both maybe three hundred feet from where Tess and Rick and Al were hiding. The first group of six men were loggers; Tess was sure of it. The other group was smaller, only three in number, and they were definitely not loggers. All three wore suits with thin ties; all three suits were some variety of black. Their white shirts gleamed in the bright noonday sun.

“Suits,” Al had explained earlier. “Corporate execs.”

“What would they be doing here?” Tess asked. “Out in the field?”

“Beats the hell out of me,” he answered. “Probably trying to figure out how to get their systematic rape of these supposedly protected five-hundred-year-old trees back on line.”

“Even after we blew their tree cutter?”

Al waved his hand. “A few hundred thousand bucks. In a forest like this, they could make it back in a week.”

“That’s probably why the execs are here,” Rick added. “They’re trying to figure out how to clear out this forest good and quick, before anyone knows what happened. ‘Omigosh, Mr. Ranger. Did we do something wrong?’ ”

Al pounded his fist into the palm of his hand. “Damn! I just can’t stand it anymore!”

Rick pressed down on his friend’s shoulder. “Hey, man, chill. We’re in hiding, remember?”

“How much longer can this go on? We fight and we fight and we fight, but these bastards just keep coming!” Al’s jaw was tightly clenched. “They won’t stop till every damn tree on the planet has been razed!”

Tess noted the tremor in his voice, the wild look in his eye. “Hey, Al. We need you to stay calm.”

“I won’t stay calm. I won’t! I’ve had enough!” He pushed himself to his feet.

“Al, stay down. They’ll see us!”

Al pulled away from her and turned toward Rick. “Do you still have the sugar?”

Rick hesitated before answering. “It’s-it’s broad daylight, man!”

Al snatched the backpack lying on the ground beside them. He opened the top flap and pulled out a half-filled bag of sugar.

“Al,” Rick said edgily, “what are you thinking, man?”

“I’m thinking I’ve had enough.”

Rick jumped between Al and the clearing. “Wait until the sun sets, okay? We can’t do anything about it now.”

“Just watch me.”

There was nothing Rick could do to stop him. Another second and Al had left the safety of the foliage and entered the clearing.

“Al!” Rick hissed after him, but it was too late. Al was gone. Fortunately, they were still about three hundred feet to the rear of the huddle of men, and they were still engaged in a very animated conversation. Still, Tess knew all it would take was a stray look to the south and one of them would see Al, alone and exposed, creeping across the clearing.

She held her breath. Come on, Al, move it! The longer he was out in the open, the more vulnerable he was. And she didn’t kid herself that she and Rick would be able to do anything to help him- alone, unarmed, outnumbered nine to three. If they saw Al, he was history.

She watched as Al continued his stealthy crawl across the yellow plain. Her palms were sweating and there was a tightness in her throat.

Al’s objective was obvious-he was trying to get to the cars. The loggers had walked over from their base camp, but the suits had driven. Turned off the main transport road about two miles north, she guessed, and used the trail the men had already plowed-for use of eighteen-wheelers for hauling felled timber-to get into the clearing. A limo and two Ford GTOs, since each exec of course had to have his own transportation. These schmucks couldn’t even conserve gas, much less trees. Al was planning to pour sugar down the crank-cases or gas tanks. Or both. To put a monkeywrench in those suits’ plans they wouldn’t soon forget.

Unless he got caught.

A few tense seconds later, Al reached the first car, the limo. Jesus God, she’d never been more nervous in her entire life. Not when she staked out Jackie O’s private jet. Not when she hid in Michael Jackson’s Dumpster. Not even when she ran for life itself two nights before with armed loggers dogging her heels. Actually, she would like to be doing some running right now. Being forced to stand still, being forced to wait-that was simply unbearable.

She watched, scarcely breathing, as Al flattened himself and crawled under the limo. Jesus, couldn’t he make do with the gas line? Surely he didn’t think he could get to the crankcases, with those men scant yards away. Was there some other aperture under the car, something equally susceptible to the hydrating and hardening influence of sugar? She didn’t know; she was still new to the monkeywrenching game. But Al would know. He must have a plan. Even if she didn’t have a clue what it was.

A few interminable seconds later, Al reemerged from the back of the car. He flashed them a quick thumbs-up, then crept over to the next car in line, the first of the Ford GTOs.

Tess’s heart felt like it skipped a beat. Come on! she silently urged him, hoping that for once she might turn out to have the mental telepathy she had fantasized about as a child. One car is enough. They’ll get the message. Get out of there!

But of course it wasn’t enough. She watched as Al slid underneath the second car, still toting his bag of sugar. He didn’t want the suits to be mildly inconvenienced. He wanted them positively crippled. He wanted them to spend the day out here, contemplating the environment they were trying to pillage, taking the measure of the fighting force they were up against.

She didn’t swallow, didn’t breathe, until she saw Al crawl out from under the GTO. Two down, one to go. Now if their luck could hold out just a short while longer …

But it didn’t. Their luck ended the instant Al moved from the safety of the second car toward the third. When his image flickered in the gap between the cars, someone spotted him.

“Hey, look!” one of the loggers shouted. She didn’t know which, and it didn’t matter, because a second later, all six of them were headed in Al’s direction.

“Run!” she shouted. It was stupid, she knew. She’d blown their position, and she saw two of the loggers pause and glance in their direction. But she had to let Al know he’d been spotted; she had to give him a fighting chance to escape.

Al didn’t need a second hint. He dropped the sugar and bolted back toward their hiding place, loggers close at his heels. He had maybe a fifty-foot lead and he was a good runner. But there were six of them, Tess realized, and they were probably no slouches in the physical fitness department themselves.

Six of them? She scanned the clearing. Two of the men had disappeared. She knew what that meant. They’d had the sense to split up-four in pursuit, while the other two tried to head them off at the pass.

“Come on!” Rick said, slapping her shoulder. He turned and bolted into the forest; she followed. She assumed he had seen the same thing she did and realized that they were all in jeopardy. It might be more collegial to wait until Al reached them, but they couldn’t afford to take the risk.

At any rate, he was not far behind. She could hear him, even as she ran. He had left the clearing, had plunged into the forest, and he ran much faster than she did. If he wanted, he’d catch up in no time. But she knew that was probably not what he’d do. More likely he’d go a different way. He’d try to confuse the ranks even further. Lead them off in a different direction. Give her and Rick time to disappear.

“This way!” Rick commanded. She saw he was trying to steer her in a different direction. Stupid-she had to stop concentrating on Al and start trying to keep her own neck out of the noose. Rick knew the way back to their camp; she didn’t. She had to stick with him or she would soon be lost.

She followed Rick as he plunged through the bramble and undergrowth. Plants and branches brushed past her, sometimes slashing her face. She didn’t have the time to worry about it. She had to keep moving forward, keep plowing ahead.

She saw the fallen tree trunk just ahead of her. Rick had jumped it; surely she could do the same. Without breaking her speed, she leaped into the air.

She cleared the trunk with room to spare, but she landed with a thud. Her right foot touched down on