Something in the Cairngorms (1/1)
Title: Something in the Cairngorms
Rating: K
Author: jlrpuck
Characters: Elias McCoy and a bunch of guys you’ve never heard of
Disclaimer: The characters contained in this story are the products of my imagination; as such, I retain all right to and ownership of them.
Summary: An Elias-ian adventure in the days before Ruby.
Notes: It’s funny how reading the news invariably inspires me to write a fic. Sometimes it’s the unhappy stories that do it, but on occasion it’s the ones out of left field that inspire. This one falls into the latter category, the idea of snowy Highlands particularly appealing to me during a blazing hot summer.
Many thanks to ginamak for her patience as I left Elias hanging for about a month this summer; and to both Ms. Mak and EarlGreyTea68 for their beta. Any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.
Something in the Cairngorms
"McCoy. Wake up!"
Elias groaned, rolling onto his back before forcing his eyes open. It was still dark, and very cold, and his first thought was that he was going to kill whoever had interrupted his drink-fuelled slumber.
"Piss off." He closed his eyes, preparing to drop back into sleep. If he fell asleep quickly, the headache lurking at the edges of his consciousness might go away…
"Wake up, ye wanker. This is important."
He recognised the voice as belonging to Robert this time, and stifled a groan. "What?"
"Shh. Get dressed. We've a slight emergency."
That got him to sit bolt upright, his eyes immediately scanning the dark for any threats. His room seemed safe enough, and a quick listen indicated nothing out of the ordinary in the building or its immediate surroundings. He leaned towards his friend and hissed, "This had best be very, very important."
"Aye, 'tis. Get dressed. Climbing gear." A bundle of soft cloth hit Elias in the face.
"Climbing gear?" He sussed out he'd been hit with one of his thermals and pulled it quickly over his head. "What in sods name is going on?" Elias tossed the covers back, hissing at the sharp cold against his bare legs. With effort, he forced himself to stand and to start gathering the clothing he'd need, relying on his muscle memory to lead him through the routine.
"Mikes and Spitty have got themselves trapped up in the hills."
"Isn't that what the rescue corps is for?"
"Well, normally yes. But they're not quite where they should be, you see. And since we're on leave and they're due back soon, well…they'd like to avoid any trouble."
Elias paused, his arms in the thick wool of his jumper. "They want us to use the remainder of our very valuable leave to come drag them down from a hill?" He hastily pulled the jumper over his head, then moved closer to Robert. "What, precisely, have they been getting up to, wherever they are?"
"Er…they didn't say. I didn't ask."
Elias shook his head, moving to his dresser to find a pair of heavy socks and liners. "How much trouble are we likely to get into, should this not go well?"
"Judging by the panic in Spitty's voice? A fair bit."
Resigned, Elias smoothed his sock over his left foot. "Then let's get going before things get worse. My kit is over there."
~ - ~
The sky was just starting to brighten by the time Rab drove them off the base, the sentry saluting smartly as they flashed their leave pass in his direction. Elias forced a stop at the first motorway services they passed, desperate for a cuppa, and felt far more up to working out the specifics of their upcoming misadventure by the time they were driving over the fells.
"Where, precisely, are we going?"
"Into the Cairngorms."
Elias slanted Robert a glare. "That's a bit broad. Care to be a touch more specific?"
"Braemar. Give or take."
Elias spit his tea back into the polystyrene cup. "What?"
"You can see why it's a bit of a…situation."
"Aye."
Elias had grown up hearing tales about the Cairngorms, the rolling high hills at the heart of his country serving as a backdrop for much of the major events of its history. But parts of the Cairngorms also held a darker edge: a large swath of them were marked off-limits by the government, and were surrounded by whispers of fantastical tales that defied description. As a boy, Elias had always assumed the tales were Scotland's attempt to match the fairy tales out of Old Germany, and had spent hours poring over maps of the area and imagining the tales unfolding across scree-covered hills and deep pine forests. As an adult, he'd learned that any information about the closed area was classified to the highest degree; and that even thinking about it was sure to result in being called before a commanding officer for a dressing down.
That didn't even allow for the fact that the Cairngorms at this time of year were no simple thing to climb. They'd been lucky in that there hadn't yet been snow in the north of England, but Elias found it impossible to believe that the ground would remain clear north of the border. The Cairngorms were dicey enough on a clear day in mid-summer; in a restricted area in the teeth of winter, they were nothing short of a bloody nightmare.
"I'm going to kill them," he muttered into his tea. "I've a date tonight."
Robert laughed. "Most likely not, now. And what's a date, compared to this adventure?"
"Have ye any idea how long I've been working to get this lass to agree to a pint? Now I'll most likely end the night in jail rather than in her bed."
"Only if we get caught."
"Brilliant." Elias took a morose sip of his tea. "Are we going to have to go into someplace we're not meant to be?"
"What a daft question. You need more tea."
"I need a dram in the cuppa I've got."
"I need you clear-headed to help with the navigation. There's a topo map tucked under your feet-might be a wise plan to give it a good look."
"There are no maps of that area, Rab."
"Of course there are. You just have to know where to look."
Elias closed his eyes in horror. "We're going to be court-martialled for this."
"No, we're not. There's an unclassified map, if you look hard enough. "
"I just hope they let us be cellmates. I can't abide the thought of having to train someone new."
"I love you, too, darling. Now shush and give that map a good look."
Elias drained the last of his tea before turning on the small light over his seat. He dared not ask where-or how-Robert had procured the map in his hands, but it certainly looked to be decent enough. He frowned, unfolding it neatly before picking it up and giving it a good look. It was hand-drawn-very precisely, and with more fidelity than he was used to with the mass-produced maps the services used-but hand-drawn all the same.
"Please tell me you didn't break into the regimental museum for this." He closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Robert laughed. "No, McCoy. You've got t'stop worrying so. It's a copy of the original, and there's a copy of that copy. It'll be missed if we lose it, but it's not irreplaceable. Now give it a good look and tell me our running route."
Elias focused intently on analyzing the paper before him, debating internally between going west through Glasgow-a part of the country he knew quite well-or taking the more direct easterly route through Edinburgh. There was only one way in to Braemar, which at least made that choice easy, and he finally settled on his strategy.
"Got it." He set the map down on his lap, blinking as he looked out the windscreen. The sky was brighter than it had been, the greys and purples of the hills slowly coming into relief as sunrise neared. Perfect weather for a hike; terrible weather for trying to get about unseen. He hoped it was overcast in Scotland.
"Excellent. Best navigator around, you."
"I doubt Will would care to hear you say that."
"Will couldn't navigate his way out of an empty room."
Elias shook his head, laughing. "Where are we at the moment?"
"Just passed Gretna. Some unpronounceable border town is next up."
"Aren't you the funny one. Just how fast are ye going, anyway?"
"No faster than you drive, so mind your business."
Elias grinned, glancing down at his watch before turning off the light he'd been using. It had just gone 8-barely more than an hour since they'd left their base. He could steal a glance at the speedometer on the car, but he strongly suspected he didn't want to know just how fast his friend was driving.
The motorway was mercifully quiet and free of police, allowing Elias the rare chance to sit back and watch the Scottish countryside slip by. He hadn't been north of the border since he'd been switched to his current unit, something his mum delighted in reminding him with every letter she wrote. He really did need to find time to go home-but he suspected the return from this particular trip wouldn't be the best time for that. Assuming they returned to the base under their own power, of course.
They stopped outside of Falkirk, Robert filling the car and several fuel containers with petrol while Elias shopped for both breakfast and enough provisions for three days' hiking. While Robert sorted the purchases out between their two rucksacks Elias slowly sipped his tea, savouring what would most likely be his last hot cuppa for a while.
"Right. Done making love to that?" Robert's head popped up from where he'd been working, his eyes twinkling as he looked across the roof of his car at Elias.
"Coffee heathen."
"Tea snob."
Elias shook his head, opening the door and sliding back into the passenger seat.
~ - ~
Robert chose to stop one last time an hour later, just outside of Blairgowrie. The village was still quiet, although the crofts around it were slowly coming to life, and they took their time perusing the map now spread over the boot of the car. Elias was relieved to see the lowlands remained clear of snow, although the peaks were covered in white.
"Straight up the military road, then?" Robert's finger traced the line of the old road leading directly into Braemar.
"Aye. I assume they're not in the town, though?"
"Of course not. But it's the last place we can leave the car without drawing suspicion."
"Rab, no one goes to Braemar on holiday. No one. Not even two blokes from the services."
"Bah. Walkers do."
"No, they don't. There's nothing you can walk up there. Not legally. And if you're going to try to get in-not that I'm daft enough to have tried-far better to do so from the Aberdeen side."
"Spitty said Braemar."
Elias sighed. "And then?"
Robert leaned forward, his finger slowly sliding across the map. "This one." He tapped the map, pointing at a spot just north of Braemar.
"That's across the river, Rab."
"Oh, yes."
"You may have failed to notice it's winter."
"We'll have to hope it's frozen solid."
"We'll have to hope we don't die from bloody hypothermia when we inevitably fall through." He heaved a sigh of resignation. "Where did they leave the car?"
"The old castle ruins. There's a wood there, easy to hide a car."
"Right. I don't suppose he mentioned if the drive was clear?"
Robert shook his head.
"Did he say what's across the way, in terms of security?"
"No. Seems they had no trouble with it, whatever it was."
"And why-" Elias straightened, stretching his neck. "No, never mind. When we find these two, and get them out, then I'll worry about trying to understand what could possibly have possessed them to do this."
"Good plan."
He focused on the map. "How old is this?"
Robert paused. "Old."
"I need to know, Rab. It's important. You know that." He suspected the woods would be denser than portrayed on the map, for one thing-and that the paths marked would be all but gone, were they visible at all under snow. "I also need to know what position they gave. It's not like the top is a small place. Assuming they're up that far."
"No, no, they gave me a location." Robert reached into his pockets and pulled out a small piece of paper. He handed it to Elias without a word.
"They were using the same map?"
"I believe so, yes. The positions should match."
"God help us," Elias muttered as he began to plot their path up the hill.
The drive to Braemar wound through stunning scenery, the old military road following the low route carved out by nature. The road was the only way to and from the town, the government having closed other routes once they chose to secure that part of the Cairngorms, but in spite of the snow now surrounding them the tarmac was well-cleared. As Elias recalled, there had been an effort to bring the town itself behind the perimeter, when he was a child; he particularly remembered his da railing against the paranoid English and their desire to lock away all of Scotland for no common good. He made a mental note to do a bit of research-how had the town managed to avoid that fate?
Elias bit back a curse as they came through the town and the topography of the Corbett became apparent. He'd hoped for trees or some other sort of cover; instead the peak looked positively naked, the entirety of it iced with a healthy covering of white.
"They're on that?"
"So they say. Can't fathom how they've not been spotted."
"Dumb luck. Let's hope it holds a day."
The castle was north of the village, near enough to the restricted zone that signs warned lost tourists of the restricted access area a mile ahead. The turning was marked by the small brown signs used to indicate areas of interest; the drive revealed several sets of tyre tracks through the snow. They followed them up a short drive to a copse of dense pines, where the tracks now showed the evidence of several cars reversing-with one set leading to the far side of the small car park. The castle itself stood in a small grove of trees, vines growing out of a decrepit tower. The wall surrounding it must once have been impressive, but was now crumbling through decades-possibly even centuries-of neglect.
"Around the back, I think," Robert said softly, taking care to ease the car into the tracks presumably left by their compatriots. Elias kept a wary eye on the road behind them, concocting a story in the event an official vehicle drove past at exactly the wrong moment. Once the road passed out of view he shifted his focus to the peaks surrounding them, certain that several held sentries. He couldn't conceive of the government leaving this particular edge of the perimeter unguarded.
"There we are."
Mikes's small blue car was nestled against the north side of the ruined castle wall, a natural gap in the trees providing just enough room to park. Robert continued on past, creating a new trail through snow that was a few inches deep under the shelter of the pines. The small wood was quiet when they emerged from the car, and Elias took great care to close his door as quietly as possible. Sunlight streamed through to where they stood, and he fought back the urge to glare at it. Odds were the weather would change soon enough, and it wouldn't do to tempt fate.
"Should have asked sooner, I suppose-but what is the spot of trouble we're going to rescue them from?" Elias turned to look at Robert, who handed him a pair of binoculars before moving to join him in leaning against the car.
"Mikes did something to his leg. Not broken, but not exactly walkable either."
"Brilliant. No wonder they rang you." As team medic, it made absolute sense that Rab would be the one called by Spitty. And Spitty had to know that calling Rab was as good as calling Elias; the two of them were the tightest pair on the entire team, having become fast friends from the moment they'd entered team training together. Why not call the medic and get the navigator in the bargain?
"They also mentioned snow."
"I can't imagine why," he replied dryly. Elias let out a sigh then pushed off from the car, pulling the map from the thigh pocket of his trousers. "I need to go have a better look-back in a tick."
He found the set of tracks leading from Mikes's car, and took care to step into them as much as possible as he made his way to the tree line. As much as he hated being on assignment in the snow, at least it masked his movement. He'd take slogging through a near-blizzard over trying to sneak through sunshine any day of the week. He laughed quietly to himself at the thought-he'd have to keep it in mind next time he found himself swearing at the winter weather.
He reached the edge of the small wood, approaching it cautiously to be sure no farmers, locals, or soldiers were about, before finding a shaded spot from which he had a good view of the land around him. The river was a scant 100 metres away; from his slightly elevated view point, he could follow the tracks out of the woods to the river. Neither Spitty nor Mikes were navigators, but as the team sneak Spitty surely should have been more careful about leaving evidence of his trail. Elias shook his head-it was probably Mikes who'd charged forward, the team weapons specialist far less circumspect than anyone else in the group. On assignment they kept him in the middle of the group, only calling him forward when something needed blowing up or removal in another way.
Elias shaded his eyes, narrowing them as he focused on the dark line of the river. It was, as hoped for, iced over. It was too bright to be able to tell for certain where the set of tracks emerged on the other side, but it was clear that nothing had broken through the ice recently. Trees lined the far side of the river in what appeared to be a relatively unbroken line, but from what he could see the woods weren't terribly deep. The map had shown a small rivulet feeding the river; he could see it from where he stood, the bare white trees shifting to thick evergreens along the waters' course. He glanced at his map, then to the landmark he'd been given. The shortest route to the river was several compass points off where they wanted to be, but in full daylight he'd opt for the shelter of evergreens over haste every single time. Well, he amended mentally-provided there was no gunfire involved.
He spent several more minutes comparing his map against what he could see of the peak, identifying primary, secondary, and tertiary routes, working out what a rapid means of escape could be, and hoping desperately the weather would hold. Snow was good for stealth, but it would ensure a miserable time for them all if it caught them on the peak.
In spite of repeated sweeps of the area with his binoculars, he could see no evidence of security on the other side of the river. No fence was visible in the woods; and the hillside showed no paths and no movement at all. It was eerily still, and he felt a brief chill as he wondered what was hidden in plain sight. There had to be something; not even the London-based government was cavalier enough to forego actively guarding a highly secure area.
He finally shrugged before turning away. They'd find out soon enough, of that he was certain.
~ - ~
He'd reckoned it was a five kilometre hike, give or take, to get to the small rocky gorge where Mikes and Spitty were hiding. The map clearly showed the area, marking it as Clais nan Cat; he wondered how on Earth his mates had failed to avoid a place so plainly marked. Alcohol, most likely, although the two men they were rescuing weren't exactly good with orienteering on even their best of days; but of course there was always the chance of ice, too.
He'd failed to factor for the time it would take to laboriously follow the tracks left by Mikes and Spitty, as well as the vital need to avoid drawing attention to their grey-clad forms on the white hillside, and so it was approaching sunset by the time he and Robert reached the lesser plateau marking the summit of Creag a'Cheirich. They paused to lean against the cairn marking the summit, each of them trying to find a piece of the lee as the wind whipped around them.
"Don't suppose you can ring our lads to ask them to come meet us?" Elias kicked his boots against the stone, trying to clear some of the snow from his trousers. It was cold going, but nowhere near the worst he'd experienced.
"They weren't going to turn the mobile back on until after sunset. Just in case we'd not made it."
"Your faith in my dedication to my friends is remarkable."
"I figured if you'd not agreed right off, I'd have blackmailed you into it somehow." Robert winked, then turned his attention to the scene before them. "Hazy sunset tonight."
"Going to snow tomorrow, I reckon."
"Think we can get back down in the dark?"
Elias snorted. "Isn't that what they pay us to do?"
Robert laughed before taking a sip of water from his canteen.
"Spectacular view, even without the clear skies. It's a shame this isn't public." Elias let his eyes roam the horizon, the higher peaks of the Cairngorms rising to their north and west.
"Maybe that's why it isn't public. You can see almost anything within a fair few kilometres from here, I bet."
"A fair point, that."
They lapsed briefly into silence.
"Did you notice there were no other tracks but our own?"
Elias turned his attention to Robert, wincing as a particularly sharp gust hit him squarely in the face. "I did. Not unusual-there's nothing up here but birds."
Robert shook his head. "No, there should be something. Deer, rabbits, bears-even this time of year. Especially down in those woods. But there wasn't a thing. Not even birds."
"Surely a sign that a storm's coming, then."
Robert nodded slowly. "You've heard the tales about this place."
Elias laughed. "Faerie tales, Rab. Built around a place no one can enter. Not surprising, that. Do ye really think the ghost of Queen Victoria haunts these hills?" His arched eyebrow indicated his own opinion on the matter.
Robert gave an uneasy laugh, then shook his head. "I suppose not. This is what I get for having a gran that chatted nightly with her resident ghost."
They slowly made their way through the approaching darkness, Elias exercising extra care as the ground began to slope downwards. He was almost startled into falling down the side of the gorge when a voice hailed them.
"About bloody time you lot showed up."
"Shut it, Spitty. Where are you, relative to us?"
"Another twenty meters-you could see us, if you knew where to look. Be careful-it drops suddenly, and the drift hides the fall."
He crept towards the voice, the darkness seeming to fall rapidly now that he had to pay sharp attention to getting to his comrades. He was able to see where the drop was, the footprints through the snow changing to a jumble of disturbed markings from where the other two men had tried to find purchase.
"Hallo." Spitty was just to the left of where Elias had expected to find him, with Mikes curled up immediately to his right.
"All well?"
"Been better. I'd really like to get off this hill before having to spend another night."
Elias glanced around the small hollow, noting the shelter that had been made out of the snow, as well as evidence of a small fire. "What, no second night 'round the campfire?"
Spitty looked chagrined. "We burned through all we'd got. Almost snuffed it out with the greens Mikes picked up with the deadwood. Had to throw the whole lot on to keep it live."
Elias tutted. "Still, I don't know. It looks rather snug down there. No wind, at least."
"Indeed, we've been in worse. That said, this place gives me a bit of the willies, and I'd really rather not stay to find out my finely-honed instincts were right all along."
"No sense of adventure," Elias said teasingly, turning as Robert joined them. "You've been up and down the slope, I see." The footprints were only just available, showing at least two trips to the edge of the gorge. He pointed them out to Robert, who nodded before moving over to follow their path down to their friends.
"Mobile works best up there, and I wanted to see if there was any movement in the glen."
"And?"
"None that we could see."
Something in the tone of his voice made Elias pause a beat; he shook it off, reminding himself sternly to focus on the task at hand. If there were proper danger, it would have been the first thing Spitty mentioned. "And Mikes?"
"Cold," came a voice from the huddled form.
"Bum ankle," Spitty added.
Elias followed Robert's progress as he descended, hoping this would be a simple case of helping to get Mikes out and down the mountain and not something far more arduous. He really did want to get back to base soon-
Oh, bugger. He'd forgotten to call his date for the night.
"You said there was mobile signal up here?" Elias asked as Robert reached the bottom and moved to attend to Mikes. He removed a glove, unzipping his parka just enough to dig his mobile from the inside pocket. A quick tap of the keypad brought up the light and showed there was, indeed, full signal.
"You calling for supper?"
"Forgot something back home. Shouldn't be a tick."
He scrolled through his list of received calls, hoping desperately the right number would be in there. It was, only just barely. He punched the send call button, then held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he hastily pulled his glove back on.
"'lo?" The woman's voice was breathless, and he devilishly wondered what he'd interrupted by calling her.
"Claire!" He grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Elias." Her voice wasn't nearly as enthusiastic as his, although he could still hear the hint of a smile in it.
"A spot of bother came up with work tonight, I don't suppose we could re-schedule?" He willed his charm to carry through the line, even as he watched Spitty and Robert work out how best to help Mikes up the steep hill to where he stood.
"What?"
"I'm sorry." He meant it, too. "It's a bit of a crisis, and I'm not able to get away from it, not in time to make our date. I don't suppose I could make it up to you with a proper bite to eat maybe...a day or two from now?"
"With less than an hour to go, you're breaking our date?"
"I did try to get out of this. I'd not be calling if there was any other option." A gust of wind smacked into him, causing him to stagger slightly. He turned his attention from the goings-on in the gorge, and focused on watching the path they'd have to take on their return.
"Where are you?"
"Nowhere near where I'd prefer to be." He felt the tickle of snowflakes against his cheek, and desperately hoped it was just snow blown up by the wind.
He heard a sigh on the other end of the line. "I don't know."
"Please?" There was another gust of wind, and the prickle of snow against Elias's exposed skin increased. He muffled a curse at the realisation that it was beginning to properly snow.
"What?"
"Nothing! Sorry, bit nasty out here. So will you consider it? Supper?"
He was answered by another sigh. "I've been hearing even more rumours than usual about you..."
He quickly squashed the grin that escaped at that. It was hardly his fault that he'd dated several of the village women who'd slipped him their numbers. They'd offered, after all.
"I'll be a perfect gentleman. Scout's honour."
"You were a scout?"
"I was. Briefly." That earned him a laugh, and he smiled. "Just supper."
"Oh, fine. Supper. Same time, two days?"
"Same time, two days. I'll pick you up."
"Don't be late. And if you call to re-schedule...I won't."
"Duly noted."
He rang off, removing his glove to tuck his phone back into his parka. He hurriedly zipped back up, the snow now coming down hard enough to be visible in the darkness. It was going to be a miserable slog back down to the car, and would most likely take them the entirety of the night. Fortunately, the snow brightened the night up enough that visibility overall wasn't bad-provided the snow didn't turn into a proper storm.
Elias watched the flakes drift down lazily, swirling just at the limit of his vision; there was no movement, no indication at all of having been discovered where they shouldn't be, and he turned once more to watch the progress below. He frowned, closing his eyes for a beat before re-opening them, wanting to be sure they were adjusted to the levels of light surrounding the area. There should be something moving out there besides the snow and the wind-a sentry, an animal, something. But there was nothing.
Elias shook his head, then returned his attention to his colleagues below. Robert was now supporting Mikes while Spitty did a final survey of the temporary campsite.
"All clear," Elias said, earning a thumbs-up from Spitty. The site cleared, the three men began the slow climb up, taking care to ensure the injury to Mikes wasn't worsened-and that he didn't pull the lot of them back down with him.
"Thought I told you to keep the weather in check, McCoy," Spitty said by way of greeting, once they'd reached the main path.
"Not my week." He stepped forward to help with Mikes, who gave him a wry smile in thanks.
They spent a few minutes rearranging knapsacks, sharing the load out between the two men not actively helping Mikes on the return journey. Elias shouldered his pack, his eyes briefly skating over the other men before turning back to look at the darkness surrounding them. He'd be leading the journey off the mountain, filling his usual role as team navigator-it was, after all, why Rab had brought him along on this mad adventure. He could hear Rab quietly speaking with Mikes, double-checking the ankle was as fine as it could be on that snowy hillside, and then he felt a single rap on his shoulder that indicated the group was ready to move out.
The snow continued to swirl around them as Elias led the way forward slowly, his eyes focused on the line showing where darkness ended and land began. He'd pulled out his walking stick when they re-packed, and he now used it much like a cane, working to ensure the snow and low visibility weren't obscuring any sudden drop-offs or other hazards. Every so often he'd catch unusual motion out of the corner of his eye, or in the murky darkness awaiting them down the path; the wind gusting across an unprotected section of hillside, causing the falling snow to swirl wildly.
It felt like an eternity before they reached the cairn marking Creag a'Cheirich, and he was relieved to reach the familiar landmark. They paused there, eating a hasty supper of meal bars chased with icy cold water from their canteens, the silence surrounding them unnerving in the extreme.
"What on Earth brought you two up here?" Elias finally asked, carefully tucking the wrapper from his bar into one of the many pockets on his trousers. He folded his arms, tucking his gloved hands into his armpits to keep his fingers from getting too cold.
"Curiosity," Spitty replied, taking a bite of his own meal.
"Stupidity," Mikes muttered in reply. "Seemed a good idea at the time, though."
"And what, exactly, was the idea?" Rab asked, leaning casually against the now snow-covered cairn.
Spitty tucked away his own rubbish before answering. "I heard something about why they closed this area off, and I wanted to see if it was true."
"And this seemed like a good idea?"
"Oh, c'mon, McCoy. We're members of the best team of the bunch. If two of us couldn't get in and out without being noticed, then we're not doing our jobs. It was...training."
Elias snorted.
"We won't be caught, you know." Mikes's voice was sure in the darkness. "You saw there aren't any patrols."
"Not when we came through, no." Rab's voice carried a rare note of caution.
"No, there aren't any, ever. Don't need them, or so I've been told." Mikes paused a beat, then continued, "My cousin dated a girl, you see. Worked up here for a bit. There's more keeping this place locked down than storage of classified documents."
Elias's desire to keep his clearance was pushed aside by his curiosity. "And that would be?"
"McCoy-" Rab's voice warned.
"As well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb," he retorted.
"A werewolf."
Elias tried to keep from snorting at Mikes’ statement, but lost the battle.
"A werewolf. What, like in the films?" Rab's voice contained every bit of disbelief Elias was feeling.
"A werewolf. She said you can hear it, on nights when the moon is full. They tried to keep it locked away at one of the old houses up here, but it kept getting out. So the best they could do is block off the area and let it roam."
"And the river magically keeps it from crossing into Braemar, or anywhere else in Scotland for that matter?" Rab's tone was mocking.
Mikes shrugged. "I don't know, but that's the tale. That it was the wolf, not anarchists, that killed Victoria, and that it prowls the hills, still, looking for its next victim."
Elias wanted to dismiss the story out of hand-it was ludicrous, after all. Even assuming the supernatural creature really existed-and of course it didn't, because there was no such thing-how could it have survived for almost a hundred and fifty years? But memories of whispered faerie tales floated through his mind, the voice of his gran dramatically telling of werewolves and a brave laird and lady fighting to save their Queen. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the fanciful stories, more immediately concerned with getting them safely off the hill than the reality of mythical beings. They'd have the luxury of debating the reality of the story later.
"All the more reason, then, to get going." Elias's voice was brusque, one last attempt to get his mind firmly focused on the task immediately at hand. "Everyone ready?"
There was the soft noise of men shifting, preparing to move out again, followed by three murmurs of assent. Elias nodded once, then returned his attention to finding the safest way off the Corbett. The snow continued to fall as they slowly crept down, the crunch of their footfalls mixed with the sound of their breathing. They paused after about an hour, Rab transferring Mikes's care to Spitty for the next stage of the journey. Elias quietly took Mikes's pack in addition to his own, Rab clearly worn out by helping their comrade; and then they set out again, each lost in their own world as they moved together.
The snow was coming down heavier now, reducing the visibility to a range that made Elias perpetually uneasy. He didn't believe the tale Mikes had told-no rational adult would-but it tickled his childhood imaginings enough that a small part of his brain swore that every odd swirl of snow against the darkness was a werewolf coming to take them all. By the time the ground began to level out again, his neck was screaming from the tension he was carrying and there was an ache behind his eyes that told him he was going to have one miserable headache once he finally stopped concentrating on his job.
His job. He snorted at that. His job, given that he was currently-technically-on leave, was to be out drinking with Claire, trying to charm her into bed. He didn't think she'd have given in, not on their first date; maybe by their third, if he could behave himself long enough to get her to agree to going out that many times. She was pretty, and clever, and she offered him a rare enough challenge that he was completely entranced. It didn't hurt, either, that she was at least a little bit older than his mere twenty-three years. He'd enjoyed a tumble with more than enough wo-
The thought suddenly evaporated, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as something shifted beyond just at the edge of his peripheral vision. He held a hand out behind him, trusting his colleagues to be paying enough attention to hold still, and focused all of his concentration on what lay before them.
The snow continued to fall quietly, tracing white lines through the greyish blackness. He waited a minute, then another; there was no other movement but for the snow. Yet he still felt on edge, the prickling awareness that had saved his hide more than once still telling him that something in front of them was not right. They had to move, but to where? He didn't have time to pull out his torch and compass, or to do a spot of reconnaissance: his instincts were telling him to move now, and fast.
He gestured sharply to his right, hoping his habitual counting of steps wouldn't have led him astray. They had to be near one of the stands of winter-bare trees they'd passed on the ascent earlier that day, one of the many marking the line of the frozen river. It wouldn't be enough to hide them if there was a team of sentries bent on finding trespassers, but he had to hope it would offer enough shelter in this weather that a more casual hunter would miss seeing them. He picked up the pace, his jaw tensing the further they went with no sign of shelter.
He was about to give up, to jog left forty-five degrees in an effort to angle them back towards the feeder stream they'd crossed earlier in the day, when he finally saw the skeletal shapes of the trees loom up out of the darkness. He had no idea how deep the woods were at this point, so he forced himself to slow down once they were in amongst the tree trunks, his attention now focused as much on what may lay before them as what might be pursuing them.
The instinct to flee finally waned, wariness now replacing the spot it had occupied. He finally slowed down, stopping at the base of what looked to be an absolutely gigantic tree, and finally looked behind him. Rab's expression was grim, and he nodded as he caught Elias's eye; Mikes looked to be doing everything in his power to run of his own will, Spitty's arm around him as the two of them finally reached the tree.
"What was it?" Elias asked, the four of them catching their breath.
"No idea. But something was behind us. I was about to warn you when you changed course." Mikes disentangled himself from Spitty and limped over to where Elias had dropped the knapsacks.
"How far did it follow us?" Elias watched as Mikes bent over stiffly, opening one of the bags and rooting around for something. He finally found it, finally pulling forth a small firearm, followed rapidly by a rather large knife.
"Far enough. Stopped once we came under the trees." Mikes patted his pockets, pulling forth another knife, and then turned his attention to the darkness surrounding them.
"You know you can't go after anything in that condition," Rab said softly.
"I know. But I'm certainly not going to stand here unarmed."
Elias bit his lip, stifling a laugh: he had his issued knife at his hip, and he carried a spare at his right ankle. They all had weapons on them-each man had at least one knife as standard issue, and most of them had a spare or two secreted about on their person. To call them unarmed was almost ludicrous. And yet Mikes had a point: were they on patrol or elsewhere, each of them would also have some sort of firearm. They'd all been trained in close combat, and at least Mikes and Spitty were excellent at it, but the conditions in which they found themselves were not optimal for that sort of engagement.
He slid his hand down to the reassuring weight of the knife on his belt, glancing around at his teammates before slowly sliding his attention back to the woods. The snow was beginning to taper off, and the blackness seemed to deepen around them.
"Four points, eh?" Spitty said softly, earning a nod from Elias. He shifted around to the far side of the tree, keeping his back against its reassuring solidness; he noted Mikes on his right, facing the direction they'd come from; while Rab was now on his left, hopefully facing towards the river. Elias loosely rested his hand on the hilt of his knife, his belt supporting the pressure, and focused on the dark woods stretching before him.
Elias was just relaxing-they'd been standing like that for at least a half-hour, with nothing in sight-when he felt a tap on his right wrist. He sensed Mikes draw down, and took a deep breath, calming himself as his adrenaline surged; he needed to stay focused, to channel his fight-or-flight reflex into something constructive for the team. A quick double-tap to Rab's wrist let the medic know to be extra alert, and then he returned his full attention to the darkness before him. He felt a shiver as something seemed to move in off to his right, in the direction Mikes was facing-something that didn't swirl but moved linearly, a clear anomaly in that situation.
Elias eased his knife from its holster, the hilt now cradled in his palm as he continued to watch the darkness. The linear motion had ceased, and the snow returned to its familiar random motion as it fell softly to the earth. Nothing emerged from the darkness.
The scare was enough to ensure they spent the night on active guard, the four of them rotating a quarter to their left as Spitty marked the passage of each hour. Elias was practically dizzy with exhaustion and cold by the time the inky blackness shifted to something not quite so absolute, and he felt his shoulders drop slightly with relief. They appeared to be alone in the woods, their only company the wind whistling through the bare limbs above them.
"All in," Spitty finally said, once the light had shifted from bleak grey to something tinged with a hint of warmth. It was still an hour before proper sunrise, but they had more than enough light to work with now.
The four of them faced each other, clustering around the knapsacks and rooting out some of the food Elias had purchased not twenty-four hours earlier. He had no idea how he looked, but Elias suspected it wasn't too dissimilar from how his colleagues appeared-hollow-eyed, in need of a shave, and slightly spooked.
"You know where we are, McCoy?" Spitty finally asked, once everyone's eating had slowed considerably.
"Give or take. If you're fine with it, I'll double-check." Elias waited for Spitty's nod, then gave a small grin. He pushed back the sleeve of his parka, glancing at the small compass that was part of his watchband; then he slowly began to walk in the direction from which they'd come the night before, taking care to count the steps and stay on a solid compass line as he moved. He was pleased to see that he'd at least moved them in a straight line as they'd entered the woods, the footprints of the four of them marring the soft coat of white under the trees. The walk out to the edge of the wood seemed much shorter in the soft light of morning, and he shook his head at their combined fancifulness the night before. They'd all been warned against the dangers of panic in training-how it could spread between men like a living thing, and of the importance of controlling it so the unit could operate effectively. They'd behaved like a squad of rookies out on their first training mission, not like the group of seasoned veterans they all were. He pursed his lips, bemused, and focused on determining where exactly they were.
He'd not been exactly right about their location, but he'd not been far off-they had less than two kilometres to go before reaching the stream that would eventually lead them to the crossing point of the river. They could walk to the edge of the trees and simply follow their line, which would be good for both hiding from any eyes that might be looking for them, as well as for keeping them sheltered somewhat from the wind. They needed to get moving, though, and quickly, as there was little doubt the weather wouldn't hold fair for too much longer: the peaks to their north were already covered with low grey clouds.
He was turning to return to the group when he stopped, his eyes picking up what he'd missed by looking further away. The snow just to his west was disturbed, someone-or something, he conceded-packing it down as it walked a line along the trees. He walked over, frowning, unsure of what he was or should be seeing out of the densely packed snow. His hand found its way to his hip again, his eyes noting the tracks running for some distance along the tree line. At his two o'clock, the track suddenly jogged towards the hills-or from them. He stood motionless, taking his time scanning the entirety of the panorama before him now, looking for any sort of odd shape or movement that would set off his internal alarms.
There was nothing.
He frowned once more at the tracks, his lips pursed, and then slowly returned to where he'd emerged from the woods. Whatever it was that had been there was gone; it was time to worry about getting properly out of there.
Rab, Mikes, and Spitty were ready to leave when he returned, the only kit left on the ground his own knapsack. Rab was once more helping Mikes, while Spitty carried the other two sacks. "You need to focus on leading us out of this place," was Spitty's reply off of Elias's raised eyebrows.
"There are some tracks out there that aren't ours," he said quietly, his eyes scanning their site before glancing up at Mikes.
"What are they?" As he asked the question, Spitty gestured for Elias to move forward.
"Not sure. Nothing small. They end at the woods."
"Any evidence of it being out there?" Spitty was walking with him, Mikes and Rab following them quickly.
"No. They go along the trees for some ways, but also out towards the hills. Whatever it was, it's gone for now."
Spitty nodded.
"You used to hunt, didn't you?" Elias asked, glancing ahead of them to ensure he was still on the right path.
"A fair bit. Plenty to do, in the forests."
"If you follow my tracks out, the unknown set will be about three metres to your left. If you want to have a quick look."
Spitty gave him a grin, and loped on ahead of the group.
Elias paused, waiting for Mikes and Rab to catch up to him. Moving to the opposite side of Mikes from Rab, he wrapped an arm around the injured man. "I think it's time to get out of here, once and for all," he said with a grin at his friends.
Spitty was several metres away by the time they reached the tree line, bent almost double as he followed the line of packed snow across the open field. At Elias's whistle he rose, then slowly jogged back to the group.
"Well?" Elias drawled.
"Nothing I've ever seen. Big, though. Glad it decided to stay away-I don't think the gun would have been much use."
"Hmmm." Elias glanced at the scene before them once more, wanting to be absolutely sure that there was nothing waiting for them. As before there was no movement, and he let out a slow breath.
"Ready?" Spitty shifted the packs on his shoulders.
"Aye. Not far now." Elias jerked his head to his right, indicated their path. "Just follow the trees and we'll get there in the end."
It took them another two hours to make it back to the cars, the wind slowly picking up until it was howling at them, the river crossing treacherous with the newly-fallen snow marking the safe way across. It was a relief to reach the cars, to lean against the boot of Rab's and simply relax as he realized they'd made it in and out in less than twenty-four hours. Longer than he'd thought when they'd set out the day before, but remarkable given the conditions they'd ultimately faced.
"There's a camp stove in the boot of the car," Mikes said after they'd spent several minutes standing in silence together. "Had it in case we got stopped and asked what we were doing here."
"As lovely as a hot meal sounds, I don't think it'd be wise to press our luck. Especially not dressed like this." Rab gestured at their attire-hardly something any casual camper would wear, even in the wilds of Scotland.
"Good point."
They took some time to sort through the packs, ensuring each of them ended with the equipment he'd left base with, and then the knapsacks were carefully stowed in the boots of the car. As he stowed his bag in the boot, he quietly watched Mikes gave his keys to Spitty, the injured man seeming to suddenly wilt once the final chore was done. They all were exhausted; they needed to eat. Elias reached down to pull the remainder of the provisions from his bag, and handed them around once everyone's gear was safely stowed.
"There are services at Falkirk," Rab finally said around a mouthful of food, having glanced at the sky for the tenth time in what could only have been a few minutes. The wind whistled through the trees, indicating the weather was going to turn nasty very, very soon. "What say we get out of here and head there?"
"I like it." Spitty's answer was vehement enough to cause the rest of them to chuckle. "I'll be happy never to come back to this Godforsaken place. No disrespect to the mother country, McCoy," he hastily amended.
"None taken. It's eerie, no mistake." He paused a beat, then added, "Why don't I drive Mikes's car? I've had more sleep than you, Spitty, and I can actually get us out of here."
Spitty hesitated only a moment before accepting Elias's offer, handing over the keys. The four men shed their parkas, Elias haphazardly stuffing his in the rear of Mikes's car before ensuring the man himself was safely ensconced in the passenger seat. By the time Elias had navigated the car out of its parking spot and down the drive to the road, Mikes was fast asleep.
The stop at Falkirk was brief, the four of them ready to be back at base, to be away from their little sojourn in the Cairngorms. Nobody mentioned the odd incident that had occurred overnight, and Rab instead took the opportunity to tell an off-colour tale about a previous paramour. It was enough to get them all laughing and a bit more relaxed, and Elias felt more than up to the long drive back to base by the time they returned to the highway. His energy was starting to wane, however, by the time they reached the Borders, and he was fighting desperately to stay awake when he finally followed Rab off at the exit for the road leading to base. Mikes continued to snore blissfully on next to him, and Elias gave him a brief glare before channelling the last of his waning energy into navigating the twists of the B-road that led to home.
It wasn't until they returned to base, waved through the gate by a far too cheery sentry, that Elias wondered how on Earth they were going to explain Mikes's injury. Spitty was effectively the second in command of the unit, but he wasn't sure even that fact would allow them to escape scrutiny. He raised the question with Spitty once they'd parked and unloaded the cars, Elias watching as Rab escorted Mikes to the base infirmary. He was rewarded with a laugh.
"You know, McCoy, for a devious bastard you're still far too honest sometimes. I've got a plan, and it'll work." In the waning light of the day, Spitty's grin looked a touch evil.
"Alright, then." He shifted the shoulder strap of his knapsack, keen now to get inside and change out of his clothes.
"Thanks, by the way." Spitty extended his right hand. Elias took it, returning the firm handshake. "I owe you."
"All I ask is first crack at a hot shower after our next assignment."
"Not much to ask; I think it can be arranged. Although Rab already claimed that in the car. So let's say after the assignment after next."
Elias laughed. "I accept."
Spitty gave him a gentle punch in the arm. "And with that, McCoy, I will see you after leave is over. And hopefully not before." The older man turned and walked towards his barracks, a bounce in his step.
Elias shook his head, once again shifting the pack before turning towards the building housing his own room. He needed a shower, and then a meal, and then-finally, blissfully-a solid night's sleep in a warm bed. He needed to be ready for his date with Claire the next day, after all.
He set off to his building with a sudden spring in his own step, whistling one of the old pub tunes his gran had sung to him as a boy.
~ fin ~
A/N: I don’t know that I had ever really been clear on what it was Elias did, back when he wore olive drab, so writing this did wonders for sharpening that up. In the days before he got placed on radio duty-and actually even after he got saddled with that-Elias was the expert with a map and compass. His spidey sense, as Ms. Mak has termed it, turns out to be a great asset for the person responsible for getting a group in and out of someplace safe and unseen.
As for the rest of the cast of characters…
Robert: The team medic, he’s Elias’s best friend and the closest thing he has to a brother. He’s a charismatic Yorkshire lad who shares Elias’s quick wit and sense of humour.
Mikes: Their expert with anything and everything that goes bang, click, or boom. As with most folks in that speciality, he’s half-mad.
Spitty: The team sneak, the man whose job it is to get in and out of tight places, and to infiltrate groups and areas that the entire team wouldn’t be able to access. EGT would probably call him the team spy. ;)
Rating: K
Author: jlrpuck
Characters: Elias McCoy and a bunch of guys you’ve never heard of
Disclaimer: The characters contained in this story are the products of my imagination; as such, I retain all right to and ownership of them.
Summary: An Elias-ian adventure in the days before Ruby.
Notes: It’s funny how reading the news invariably inspires me to write a fic. Sometimes it’s the unhappy stories that do it, but on occasion it’s the ones out of left field that inspire. This one falls into the latter category, the idea of snowy Highlands particularly appealing to me during a blazing hot summer.
Many thanks to ginamak for her patience as I left Elias hanging for about a month this summer; and to both Ms. Mak and EarlGreyTea68 for their beta. Any mistakes are mine, and mine alone.
Something in the Cairngorms
"McCoy. Wake up!"
Elias groaned, rolling onto his back before forcing his eyes open. It was still dark, and very cold, and his first thought was that he was going to kill whoever had interrupted his drink-fuelled slumber.
"Piss off." He closed his eyes, preparing to drop back into sleep. If he fell asleep quickly, the headache lurking at the edges of his consciousness might go away…
"Wake up, ye wanker. This is important."
He recognised the voice as belonging to Robert this time, and stifled a groan. "What?"
"Shh. Get dressed. We've a slight emergency."
That got him to sit bolt upright, his eyes immediately scanning the dark for any threats. His room seemed safe enough, and a quick listen indicated nothing out of the ordinary in the building or its immediate surroundings. He leaned towards his friend and hissed, "This had best be very, very important."
"Aye, 'tis. Get dressed. Climbing gear." A bundle of soft cloth hit Elias in the face.
"Climbing gear?" He sussed out he'd been hit with one of his thermals and pulled it quickly over his head. "What in sods name is going on?" Elias tossed the covers back, hissing at the sharp cold against his bare legs. With effort, he forced himself to stand and to start gathering the clothing he'd need, relying on his muscle memory to lead him through the routine.
"Mikes and Spitty have got themselves trapped up in the hills."
"Isn't that what the rescue corps is for?"
"Well, normally yes. But they're not quite where they should be, you see. And since we're on leave and they're due back soon, well…they'd like to avoid any trouble."
Elias paused, his arms in the thick wool of his jumper. "They want us to use the remainder of our very valuable leave to come drag them down from a hill?" He hastily pulled the jumper over his head, then moved closer to Robert. "What, precisely, have they been getting up to, wherever they are?"
"Er…they didn't say. I didn't ask."
Elias shook his head, moving to his dresser to find a pair of heavy socks and liners. "How much trouble are we likely to get into, should this not go well?"
"Judging by the panic in Spitty's voice? A fair bit."
Resigned, Elias smoothed his sock over his left foot. "Then let's get going before things get worse. My kit is over there."
~ - ~
The sky was just starting to brighten by the time Rab drove them off the base, the sentry saluting smartly as they flashed their leave pass in his direction. Elias forced a stop at the first motorway services they passed, desperate for a cuppa, and felt far more up to working out the specifics of their upcoming misadventure by the time they were driving over the fells.
"Where, precisely, are we going?"
"Into the Cairngorms."
Elias slanted Robert a glare. "That's a bit broad. Care to be a touch more specific?"
"Braemar. Give or take."
Elias spit his tea back into the polystyrene cup. "What?"
"You can see why it's a bit of a…situation."
"Aye."
Elias had grown up hearing tales about the Cairngorms, the rolling high hills at the heart of his country serving as a backdrop for much of the major events of its history. But parts of the Cairngorms also held a darker edge: a large swath of them were marked off-limits by the government, and were surrounded by whispers of fantastical tales that defied description. As a boy, Elias had always assumed the tales were Scotland's attempt to match the fairy tales out of Old Germany, and had spent hours poring over maps of the area and imagining the tales unfolding across scree-covered hills and deep pine forests. As an adult, he'd learned that any information about the closed area was classified to the highest degree; and that even thinking about it was sure to result in being called before a commanding officer for a dressing down.
That didn't even allow for the fact that the Cairngorms at this time of year were no simple thing to climb. They'd been lucky in that there hadn't yet been snow in the north of England, but Elias found it impossible to believe that the ground would remain clear north of the border. The Cairngorms were dicey enough on a clear day in mid-summer; in a restricted area in the teeth of winter, they were nothing short of a bloody nightmare.
"I'm going to kill them," he muttered into his tea. "I've a date tonight."
Robert laughed. "Most likely not, now. And what's a date, compared to this adventure?"
"Have ye any idea how long I've been working to get this lass to agree to a pint? Now I'll most likely end the night in jail rather than in her bed."
"Only if we get caught."
"Brilliant." Elias took a morose sip of his tea. "Are we going to have to go into someplace we're not meant to be?"
"What a daft question. You need more tea."
"I need a dram in the cuppa I've got."
"I need you clear-headed to help with the navigation. There's a topo map tucked under your feet-might be a wise plan to give it a good look."
"There are no maps of that area, Rab."
"Of course there are. You just have to know where to look."
Elias closed his eyes in horror. "We're going to be court-martialled for this."
"No, we're not. There's an unclassified map, if you look hard enough. "
"I just hope they let us be cellmates. I can't abide the thought of having to train someone new."
"I love you, too, darling. Now shush and give that map a good look."
Elias drained the last of his tea before turning on the small light over his seat. He dared not ask where-or how-Robert had procured the map in his hands, but it certainly looked to be decent enough. He frowned, unfolding it neatly before picking it up and giving it a good look. It was hand-drawn-very precisely, and with more fidelity than he was used to with the mass-produced maps the services used-but hand-drawn all the same.
"Please tell me you didn't break into the regimental museum for this." He closed his eyes, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
Robert laughed. "No, McCoy. You've got t'stop worrying so. It's a copy of the original, and there's a copy of that copy. It'll be missed if we lose it, but it's not irreplaceable. Now give it a good look and tell me our running route."
Elias focused intently on analyzing the paper before him, debating internally between going west through Glasgow-a part of the country he knew quite well-or taking the more direct easterly route through Edinburgh. There was only one way in to Braemar, which at least made that choice easy, and he finally settled on his strategy.
"Got it." He set the map down on his lap, blinking as he looked out the windscreen. The sky was brighter than it had been, the greys and purples of the hills slowly coming into relief as sunrise neared. Perfect weather for a hike; terrible weather for trying to get about unseen. He hoped it was overcast in Scotland.
"Excellent. Best navigator around, you."
"I doubt Will would care to hear you say that."
"Will couldn't navigate his way out of an empty room."
Elias shook his head, laughing. "Where are we at the moment?"
"Just passed Gretna. Some unpronounceable border town is next up."
"Aren't you the funny one. Just how fast are ye going, anyway?"
"No faster than you drive, so mind your business."
Elias grinned, glancing down at his watch before turning off the light he'd been using. It had just gone 8-barely more than an hour since they'd left their base. He could steal a glance at the speedometer on the car, but he strongly suspected he didn't want to know just how fast his friend was driving.
The motorway was mercifully quiet and free of police, allowing Elias the rare chance to sit back and watch the Scottish countryside slip by. He hadn't been north of the border since he'd been switched to his current unit, something his mum delighted in reminding him with every letter she wrote. He really did need to find time to go home-but he suspected the return from this particular trip wouldn't be the best time for that. Assuming they returned to the base under their own power, of course.
They stopped outside of Falkirk, Robert filling the car and several fuel containers with petrol while Elias shopped for both breakfast and enough provisions for three days' hiking. While Robert sorted the purchases out between their two rucksacks Elias slowly sipped his tea, savouring what would most likely be his last hot cuppa for a while.
"Right. Done making love to that?" Robert's head popped up from where he'd been working, his eyes twinkling as he looked across the roof of his car at Elias.
"Coffee heathen."
"Tea snob."
Elias shook his head, opening the door and sliding back into the passenger seat.
~ - ~
Robert chose to stop one last time an hour later, just outside of Blairgowrie. The village was still quiet, although the crofts around it were slowly coming to life, and they took their time perusing the map now spread over the boot of the car. Elias was relieved to see the lowlands remained clear of snow, although the peaks were covered in white.
"Straight up the military road, then?" Robert's finger traced the line of the old road leading directly into Braemar.
"Aye. I assume they're not in the town, though?"
"Of course not. But it's the last place we can leave the car without drawing suspicion."
"Rab, no one goes to Braemar on holiday. No one. Not even two blokes from the services."
"Bah. Walkers do."
"No, they don't. There's nothing you can walk up there. Not legally. And if you're going to try to get in-not that I'm daft enough to have tried-far better to do so from the Aberdeen side."
"Spitty said Braemar."
Elias sighed. "And then?"
Robert leaned forward, his finger slowly sliding across the map. "This one." He tapped the map, pointing at a spot just north of Braemar.
"That's across the river, Rab."
"Oh, yes."
"You may have failed to notice it's winter."
"We'll have to hope it's frozen solid."
"We'll have to hope we don't die from bloody hypothermia when we inevitably fall through." He heaved a sigh of resignation. "Where did they leave the car?"
"The old castle ruins. There's a wood there, easy to hide a car."
"Right. I don't suppose he mentioned if the drive was clear?"
Robert shook his head.
"Did he say what's across the way, in terms of security?"
"No. Seems they had no trouble with it, whatever it was."
"And why-" Elias straightened, stretching his neck. "No, never mind. When we find these two, and get them out, then I'll worry about trying to understand what could possibly have possessed them to do this."
"Good plan."
He focused on the map. "How old is this?"
Robert paused. "Old."
"I need to know, Rab. It's important. You know that." He suspected the woods would be denser than portrayed on the map, for one thing-and that the paths marked would be all but gone, were they visible at all under snow. "I also need to know what position they gave. It's not like the top is a small place. Assuming they're up that far."
"No, no, they gave me a location." Robert reached into his pockets and pulled out a small piece of paper. He handed it to Elias without a word.
"They were using the same map?"
"I believe so, yes. The positions should match."
"God help us," Elias muttered as he began to plot their path up the hill.
The drive to Braemar wound through stunning scenery, the old military road following the low route carved out by nature. The road was the only way to and from the town, the government having closed other routes once they chose to secure that part of the Cairngorms, but in spite of the snow now surrounding them the tarmac was well-cleared. As Elias recalled, there had been an effort to bring the town itself behind the perimeter, when he was a child; he particularly remembered his da railing against the paranoid English and their desire to lock away all of Scotland for no common good. He made a mental note to do a bit of research-how had the town managed to avoid that fate?
Elias bit back a curse as they came through the town and the topography of the Corbett became apparent. He'd hoped for trees or some other sort of cover; instead the peak looked positively naked, the entirety of it iced with a healthy covering of white.
"They're on that?"
"So they say. Can't fathom how they've not been spotted."
"Dumb luck. Let's hope it holds a day."
The castle was north of the village, near enough to the restricted zone that signs warned lost tourists of the restricted access area a mile ahead. The turning was marked by the small brown signs used to indicate areas of interest; the drive revealed several sets of tyre tracks through the snow. They followed them up a short drive to a copse of dense pines, where the tracks now showed the evidence of several cars reversing-with one set leading to the far side of the small car park. The castle itself stood in a small grove of trees, vines growing out of a decrepit tower. The wall surrounding it must once have been impressive, but was now crumbling through decades-possibly even centuries-of neglect.
"Around the back, I think," Robert said softly, taking care to ease the car into the tracks presumably left by their compatriots. Elias kept a wary eye on the road behind them, concocting a story in the event an official vehicle drove past at exactly the wrong moment. Once the road passed out of view he shifted his focus to the peaks surrounding them, certain that several held sentries. He couldn't conceive of the government leaving this particular edge of the perimeter unguarded.
"There we are."
Mikes's small blue car was nestled against the north side of the ruined castle wall, a natural gap in the trees providing just enough room to park. Robert continued on past, creating a new trail through snow that was a few inches deep under the shelter of the pines. The small wood was quiet when they emerged from the car, and Elias took great care to close his door as quietly as possible. Sunlight streamed through to where they stood, and he fought back the urge to glare at it. Odds were the weather would change soon enough, and it wouldn't do to tempt fate.
"Should have asked sooner, I suppose-but what is the spot of trouble we're going to rescue them from?" Elias turned to look at Robert, who handed him a pair of binoculars before moving to join him in leaning against the car.
"Mikes did something to his leg. Not broken, but not exactly walkable either."
"Brilliant. No wonder they rang you." As team medic, it made absolute sense that Rab would be the one called by Spitty. And Spitty had to know that calling Rab was as good as calling Elias; the two of them were the tightest pair on the entire team, having become fast friends from the moment they'd entered team training together. Why not call the medic and get the navigator in the bargain?
"They also mentioned snow."
"I can't imagine why," he replied dryly. Elias let out a sigh then pushed off from the car, pulling the map from the thigh pocket of his trousers. "I need to go have a better look-back in a tick."
He found the set of tracks leading from Mikes's car, and took care to step into them as much as possible as he made his way to the tree line. As much as he hated being on assignment in the snow, at least it masked his movement. He'd take slogging through a near-blizzard over trying to sneak through sunshine any day of the week. He laughed quietly to himself at the thought-he'd have to keep it in mind next time he found himself swearing at the winter weather.
He reached the edge of the small wood, approaching it cautiously to be sure no farmers, locals, or soldiers were about, before finding a shaded spot from which he had a good view of the land around him. The river was a scant 100 metres away; from his slightly elevated view point, he could follow the tracks out of the woods to the river. Neither Spitty nor Mikes were navigators, but as the team sneak Spitty surely should have been more careful about leaving evidence of his trail. Elias shook his head-it was probably Mikes who'd charged forward, the team weapons specialist far less circumspect than anyone else in the group. On assignment they kept him in the middle of the group, only calling him forward when something needed blowing up or removal in another way.
Elias shaded his eyes, narrowing them as he focused on the dark line of the river. It was, as hoped for, iced over. It was too bright to be able to tell for certain where the set of tracks emerged on the other side, but it was clear that nothing had broken through the ice recently. Trees lined the far side of the river in what appeared to be a relatively unbroken line, but from what he could see the woods weren't terribly deep. The map had shown a small rivulet feeding the river; he could see it from where he stood, the bare white trees shifting to thick evergreens along the waters' course. He glanced at his map, then to the landmark he'd been given. The shortest route to the river was several compass points off where they wanted to be, but in full daylight he'd opt for the shelter of evergreens over haste every single time. Well, he amended mentally-provided there was no gunfire involved.
He spent several more minutes comparing his map against what he could see of the peak, identifying primary, secondary, and tertiary routes, working out what a rapid means of escape could be, and hoping desperately the weather would hold. Snow was good for stealth, but it would ensure a miserable time for them all if it caught them on the peak.
In spite of repeated sweeps of the area with his binoculars, he could see no evidence of security on the other side of the river. No fence was visible in the woods; and the hillside showed no paths and no movement at all. It was eerily still, and he felt a brief chill as he wondered what was hidden in plain sight. There had to be something; not even the London-based government was cavalier enough to forego actively guarding a highly secure area.
He finally shrugged before turning away. They'd find out soon enough, of that he was certain.
~ - ~
He'd reckoned it was a five kilometre hike, give or take, to get to the small rocky gorge where Mikes and Spitty were hiding. The map clearly showed the area, marking it as Clais nan Cat; he wondered how on Earth his mates had failed to avoid a place so plainly marked. Alcohol, most likely, although the two men they were rescuing weren't exactly good with orienteering on even their best of days; but of course there was always the chance of ice, too.
He'd failed to factor for the time it would take to laboriously follow the tracks left by Mikes and Spitty, as well as the vital need to avoid drawing attention to their grey-clad forms on the white hillside, and so it was approaching sunset by the time he and Robert reached the lesser plateau marking the summit of Creag a'Cheirich. They paused to lean against the cairn marking the summit, each of them trying to find a piece of the lee as the wind whipped around them.
"Don't suppose you can ring our lads to ask them to come meet us?" Elias kicked his boots against the stone, trying to clear some of the snow from his trousers. It was cold going, but nowhere near the worst he'd experienced.
"They weren't going to turn the mobile back on until after sunset. Just in case we'd not made it."
"Your faith in my dedication to my friends is remarkable."
"I figured if you'd not agreed right off, I'd have blackmailed you into it somehow." Robert winked, then turned his attention to the scene before them. "Hazy sunset tonight."
"Going to snow tomorrow, I reckon."
"Think we can get back down in the dark?"
Elias snorted. "Isn't that what they pay us to do?"
Robert laughed before taking a sip of water from his canteen.
"Spectacular view, even without the clear skies. It's a shame this isn't public." Elias let his eyes roam the horizon, the higher peaks of the Cairngorms rising to their north and west.
"Maybe that's why it isn't public. You can see almost anything within a fair few kilometres from here, I bet."
"A fair point, that."
They lapsed briefly into silence.
"Did you notice there were no other tracks but our own?"
Elias turned his attention to Robert, wincing as a particularly sharp gust hit him squarely in the face. "I did. Not unusual-there's nothing up here but birds."
Robert shook his head. "No, there should be something. Deer, rabbits, bears-even this time of year. Especially down in those woods. But there wasn't a thing. Not even birds."
"Surely a sign that a storm's coming, then."
Robert nodded slowly. "You've heard the tales about this place."
Elias laughed. "Faerie tales, Rab. Built around a place no one can enter. Not surprising, that. Do ye really think the ghost of Queen Victoria haunts these hills?" His arched eyebrow indicated his own opinion on the matter.
Robert gave an uneasy laugh, then shook his head. "I suppose not. This is what I get for having a gran that chatted nightly with her resident ghost."
They slowly made their way through the approaching darkness, Elias exercising extra care as the ground began to slope downwards. He was almost startled into falling down the side of the gorge when a voice hailed them.
"About bloody time you lot showed up."
"Shut it, Spitty. Where are you, relative to us?"
"Another twenty meters-you could see us, if you knew where to look. Be careful-it drops suddenly, and the drift hides the fall."
He crept towards the voice, the darkness seeming to fall rapidly now that he had to pay sharp attention to getting to his comrades. He was able to see where the drop was, the footprints through the snow changing to a jumble of disturbed markings from where the other two men had tried to find purchase.
"Hallo." Spitty was just to the left of where Elias had expected to find him, with Mikes curled up immediately to his right.
"All well?"
"Been better. I'd really like to get off this hill before having to spend another night."
Elias glanced around the small hollow, noting the shelter that had been made out of the snow, as well as evidence of a small fire. "What, no second night 'round the campfire?"
Spitty looked chagrined. "We burned through all we'd got. Almost snuffed it out with the greens Mikes picked up with the deadwood. Had to throw the whole lot on to keep it live."
Elias tutted. "Still, I don't know. It looks rather snug down there. No wind, at least."
"Indeed, we've been in worse. That said, this place gives me a bit of the willies, and I'd really rather not stay to find out my finely-honed instincts were right all along."
"No sense of adventure," Elias said teasingly, turning as Robert joined them. "You've been up and down the slope, I see." The footprints were only just available, showing at least two trips to the edge of the gorge. He pointed them out to Robert, who nodded before moving over to follow their path down to their friends.
"Mobile works best up there, and I wanted to see if there was any movement in the glen."
"And?"
"None that we could see."
Something in the tone of his voice made Elias pause a beat; he shook it off, reminding himself sternly to focus on the task at hand. If there were proper danger, it would have been the first thing Spitty mentioned. "And Mikes?"
"Cold," came a voice from the huddled form.
"Bum ankle," Spitty added.
Elias followed Robert's progress as he descended, hoping this would be a simple case of helping to get Mikes out and down the mountain and not something far more arduous. He really did want to get back to base soon-
Oh, bugger. He'd forgotten to call his date for the night.
"You said there was mobile signal up here?" Elias asked as Robert reached the bottom and moved to attend to Mikes. He removed a glove, unzipping his parka just enough to dig his mobile from the inside pocket. A quick tap of the keypad brought up the light and showed there was, indeed, full signal.
"You calling for supper?"
"Forgot something back home. Shouldn't be a tick."
He scrolled through his list of received calls, hoping desperately the right number would be in there. It was, only just barely. He punched the send call button, then held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he hastily pulled his glove back on.
"'lo?" The woman's voice was breathless, and he devilishly wondered what he'd interrupted by calling her.
"Claire!" He grinned, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
"Elias." Her voice wasn't nearly as enthusiastic as his, although he could still hear the hint of a smile in it.
"A spot of bother came up with work tonight, I don't suppose we could re-schedule?" He willed his charm to carry through the line, even as he watched Spitty and Robert work out how best to help Mikes up the steep hill to where he stood.
"What?"
"I'm sorry." He meant it, too. "It's a bit of a crisis, and I'm not able to get away from it, not in time to make our date. I don't suppose I could make it up to you with a proper bite to eat maybe...a day or two from now?"
"With less than an hour to go, you're breaking our date?"
"I did try to get out of this. I'd not be calling if there was any other option." A gust of wind smacked into him, causing him to stagger slightly. He turned his attention from the goings-on in the gorge, and focused on watching the path they'd have to take on their return.
"Where are you?"
"Nowhere near where I'd prefer to be." He felt the tickle of snowflakes against his cheek, and desperately hoped it was just snow blown up by the wind.
He heard a sigh on the other end of the line. "I don't know."
"Please?" There was another gust of wind, and the prickle of snow against Elias's exposed skin increased. He muffled a curse at the realisation that it was beginning to properly snow.
"What?"
"Nothing! Sorry, bit nasty out here. So will you consider it? Supper?"
He was answered by another sigh. "I've been hearing even more rumours than usual about you..."
He quickly squashed the grin that escaped at that. It was hardly his fault that he'd dated several of the village women who'd slipped him their numbers. They'd offered, after all.
"I'll be a perfect gentleman. Scout's honour."
"You were a scout?"
"I was. Briefly." That earned him a laugh, and he smiled. "Just supper."
"Oh, fine. Supper. Same time, two days?"
"Same time, two days. I'll pick you up."
"Don't be late. And if you call to re-schedule...I won't."
"Duly noted."
He rang off, removing his glove to tuck his phone back into his parka. He hurriedly zipped back up, the snow now coming down hard enough to be visible in the darkness. It was going to be a miserable slog back down to the car, and would most likely take them the entirety of the night. Fortunately, the snow brightened the night up enough that visibility overall wasn't bad-provided the snow didn't turn into a proper storm.
Elias watched the flakes drift down lazily, swirling just at the limit of his vision; there was no movement, no indication at all of having been discovered where they shouldn't be, and he turned once more to watch the progress below. He frowned, closing his eyes for a beat before re-opening them, wanting to be sure they were adjusted to the levels of light surrounding the area. There should be something moving out there besides the snow and the wind-a sentry, an animal, something. But there was nothing.
Elias shook his head, then returned his attention to his colleagues below. Robert was now supporting Mikes while Spitty did a final survey of the temporary campsite.
"All clear," Elias said, earning a thumbs-up from Spitty. The site cleared, the three men began the slow climb up, taking care to ensure the injury to Mikes wasn't worsened-and that he didn't pull the lot of them back down with him.
"Thought I told you to keep the weather in check, McCoy," Spitty said by way of greeting, once they'd reached the main path.
"Not my week." He stepped forward to help with Mikes, who gave him a wry smile in thanks.
They spent a few minutes rearranging knapsacks, sharing the load out between the two men not actively helping Mikes on the return journey. Elias shouldered his pack, his eyes briefly skating over the other men before turning back to look at the darkness surrounding them. He'd be leading the journey off the mountain, filling his usual role as team navigator-it was, after all, why Rab had brought him along on this mad adventure. He could hear Rab quietly speaking with Mikes, double-checking the ankle was as fine as it could be on that snowy hillside, and then he felt a single rap on his shoulder that indicated the group was ready to move out.
The snow continued to swirl around them as Elias led the way forward slowly, his eyes focused on the line showing where darkness ended and land began. He'd pulled out his walking stick when they re-packed, and he now used it much like a cane, working to ensure the snow and low visibility weren't obscuring any sudden drop-offs or other hazards. Every so often he'd catch unusual motion out of the corner of his eye, or in the murky darkness awaiting them down the path; the wind gusting across an unprotected section of hillside, causing the falling snow to swirl wildly.
It felt like an eternity before they reached the cairn marking Creag a'Cheirich, and he was relieved to reach the familiar landmark. They paused there, eating a hasty supper of meal bars chased with icy cold water from their canteens, the silence surrounding them unnerving in the extreme.
"What on Earth brought you two up here?" Elias finally asked, carefully tucking the wrapper from his bar into one of the many pockets on his trousers. He folded his arms, tucking his gloved hands into his armpits to keep his fingers from getting too cold.
"Curiosity," Spitty replied, taking a bite of his own meal.
"Stupidity," Mikes muttered in reply. "Seemed a good idea at the time, though."
"And what, exactly, was the idea?" Rab asked, leaning casually against the now snow-covered cairn.
Spitty tucked away his own rubbish before answering. "I heard something about why they closed this area off, and I wanted to see if it was true."
"And this seemed like a good idea?"
"Oh, c'mon, McCoy. We're members of the best team of the bunch. If two of us couldn't get in and out without being noticed, then we're not doing our jobs. It was...training."
Elias snorted.
"We won't be caught, you know." Mikes's voice was sure in the darkness. "You saw there aren't any patrols."
"Not when we came through, no." Rab's voice carried a rare note of caution.
"No, there aren't any, ever. Don't need them, or so I've been told." Mikes paused a beat, then continued, "My cousin dated a girl, you see. Worked up here for a bit. There's more keeping this place locked down than storage of classified documents."
Elias's desire to keep his clearance was pushed aside by his curiosity. "And that would be?"
"McCoy-" Rab's voice warned.
"As well be hanged for a sheep as a lamb," he retorted.
"A werewolf."
Elias tried to keep from snorting at Mikes’ statement, but lost the battle.
"A werewolf. What, like in the films?" Rab's voice contained every bit of disbelief Elias was feeling.
"A werewolf. She said you can hear it, on nights when the moon is full. They tried to keep it locked away at one of the old houses up here, but it kept getting out. So the best they could do is block off the area and let it roam."
"And the river magically keeps it from crossing into Braemar, or anywhere else in Scotland for that matter?" Rab's tone was mocking.
Mikes shrugged. "I don't know, but that's the tale. That it was the wolf, not anarchists, that killed Victoria, and that it prowls the hills, still, looking for its next victim."
Elias wanted to dismiss the story out of hand-it was ludicrous, after all. Even assuming the supernatural creature really existed-and of course it didn't, because there was no such thing-how could it have survived for almost a hundred and fifty years? But memories of whispered faerie tales floated through his mind, the voice of his gran dramatically telling of werewolves and a brave laird and lady fighting to save their Queen. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the fanciful stories, more immediately concerned with getting them safely off the hill than the reality of mythical beings. They'd have the luxury of debating the reality of the story later.
"All the more reason, then, to get going." Elias's voice was brusque, one last attempt to get his mind firmly focused on the task immediately at hand. "Everyone ready?"
There was the soft noise of men shifting, preparing to move out again, followed by three murmurs of assent. Elias nodded once, then returned his attention to finding the safest way off the Corbett. The snow continued to fall as they slowly crept down, the crunch of their footfalls mixed with the sound of their breathing. They paused after about an hour, Rab transferring Mikes's care to Spitty for the next stage of the journey. Elias quietly took Mikes's pack in addition to his own, Rab clearly worn out by helping their comrade; and then they set out again, each lost in their own world as they moved together.
The snow was coming down heavier now, reducing the visibility to a range that made Elias perpetually uneasy. He didn't believe the tale Mikes had told-no rational adult would-but it tickled his childhood imaginings enough that a small part of his brain swore that every odd swirl of snow against the darkness was a werewolf coming to take them all. By the time the ground began to level out again, his neck was screaming from the tension he was carrying and there was an ache behind his eyes that told him he was going to have one miserable headache once he finally stopped concentrating on his job.
His job. He snorted at that. His job, given that he was currently-technically-on leave, was to be out drinking with Claire, trying to charm her into bed. He didn't think she'd have given in, not on their first date; maybe by their third, if he could behave himself long enough to get her to agree to going out that many times. She was pretty, and clever, and she offered him a rare enough challenge that he was completely entranced. It didn't hurt, either, that she was at least a little bit older than his mere twenty-three years. He'd enjoyed a tumble with more than enough wo-
The thought suddenly evaporated, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as something shifted beyond just at the edge of his peripheral vision. He held a hand out behind him, trusting his colleagues to be paying enough attention to hold still, and focused all of his concentration on what lay before them.
The snow continued to fall quietly, tracing white lines through the greyish blackness. He waited a minute, then another; there was no other movement but for the snow. Yet he still felt on edge, the prickling awareness that had saved his hide more than once still telling him that something in front of them was not right. They had to move, but to where? He didn't have time to pull out his torch and compass, or to do a spot of reconnaissance: his instincts were telling him to move now, and fast.
He gestured sharply to his right, hoping his habitual counting of steps wouldn't have led him astray. They had to be near one of the stands of winter-bare trees they'd passed on the ascent earlier that day, one of the many marking the line of the frozen river. It wouldn't be enough to hide them if there was a team of sentries bent on finding trespassers, but he had to hope it would offer enough shelter in this weather that a more casual hunter would miss seeing them. He picked up the pace, his jaw tensing the further they went with no sign of shelter.
He was about to give up, to jog left forty-five degrees in an effort to angle them back towards the feeder stream they'd crossed earlier in the day, when he finally saw the skeletal shapes of the trees loom up out of the darkness. He had no idea how deep the woods were at this point, so he forced himself to slow down once they were in amongst the tree trunks, his attention now focused as much on what may lay before them as what might be pursuing them.
The instinct to flee finally waned, wariness now replacing the spot it had occupied. He finally slowed down, stopping at the base of what looked to be an absolutely gigantic tree, and finally looked behind him. Rab's expression was grim, and he nodded as he caught Elias's eye; Mikes looked to be doing everything in his power to run of his own will, Spitty's arm around him as the two of them finally reached the tree.
"What was it?" Elias asked, the four of them catching their breath.
"No idea. But something was behind us. I was about to warn you when you changed course." Mikes disentangled himself from Spitty and limped over to where Elias had dropped the knapsacks.
"How far did it follow us?" Elias watched as Mikes bent over stiffly, opening one of the bags and rooting around for something. He finally found it, finally pulling forth a small firearm, followed rapidly by a rather large knife.
"Far enough. Stopped once we came under the trees." Mikes patted his pockets, pulling forth another knife, and then turned his attention to the darkness surrounding them.
"You know you can't go after anything in that condition," Rab said softly.
"I know. But I'm certainly not going to stand here unarmed."
Elias bit his lip, stifling a laugh: he had his issued knife at his hip, and he carried a spare at his right ankle. They all had weapons on them-each man had at least one knife as standard issue, and most of them had a spare or two secreted about on their person. To call them unarmed was almost ludicrous. And yet Mikes had a point: were they on patrol or elsewhere, each of them would also have some sort of firearm. They'd all been trained in close combat, and at least Mikes and Spitty were excellent at it, but the conditions in which they found themselves were not optimal for that sort of engagement.
He slid his hand down to the reassuring weight of the knife on his belt, glancing around at his teammates before slowly sliding his attention back to the woods. The snow was beginning to taper off, and the blackness seemed to deepen around them.
"Four points, eh?" Spitty said softly, earning a nod from Elias. He shifted around to the far side of the tree, keeping his back against its reassuring solidness; he noted Mikes on his right, facing the direction they'd come from; while Rab was now on his left, hopefully facing towards the river. Elias loosely rested his hand on the hilt of his knife, his belt supporting the pressure, and focused on the dark woods stretching before him.
Elias was just relaxing-they'd been standing like that for at least a half-hour, with nothing in sight-when he felt a tap on his right wrist. He sensed Mikes draw down, and took a deep breath, calming himself as his adrenaline surged; he needed to stay focused, to channel his fight-or-flight reflex into something constructive for the team. A quick double-tap to Rab's wrist let the medic know to be extra alert, and then he returned his full attention to the darkness before him. He felt a shiver as something seemed to move in off to his right, in the direction Mikes was facing-something that didn't swirl but moved linearly, a clear anomaly in that situation.
Elias eased his knife from its holster, the hilt now cradled in his palm as he continued to watch the darkness. The linear motion had ceased, and the snow returned to its familiar random motion as it fell softly to the earth. Nothing emerged from the darkness.
The scare was enough to ensure they spent the night on active guard, the four of them rotating a quarter to their left as Spitty marked the passage of each hour. Elias was practically dizzy with exhaustion and cold by the time the inky blackness shifted to something not quite so absolute, and he felt his shoulders drop slightly with relief. They appeared to be alone in the woods, their only company the wind whistling through the bare limbs above them.
"All in," Spitty finally said, once the light had shifted from bleak grey to something tinged with a hint of warmth. It was still an hour before proper sunrise, but they had more than enough light to work with now.
The four of them faced each other, clustering around the knapsacks and rooting out some of the food Elias had purchased not twenty-four hours earlier. He had no idea how he looked, but Elias suspected it wasn't too dissimilar from how his colleagues appeared-hollow-eyed, in need of a shave, and slightly spooked.
"You know where we are, McCoy?" Spitty finally asked, once everyone's eating had slowed considerably.
"Give or take. If you're fine with it, I'll double-check." Elias waited for Spitty's nod, then gave a small grin. He pushed back the sleeve of his parka, glancing at the small compass that was part of his watchband; then he slowly began to walk in the direction from which they'd come the night before, taking care to count the steps and stay on a solid compass line as he moved. He was pleased to see that he'd at least moved them in a straight line as they'd entered the woods, the footprints of the four of them marring the soft coat of white under the trees. The walk out to the edge of the wood seemed much shorter in the soft light of morning, and he shook his head at their combined fancifulness the night before. They'd all been warned against the dangers of panic in training-how it could spread between men like a living thing, and of the importance of controlling it so the unit could operate effectively. They'd behaved like a squad of rookies out on their first training mission, not like the group of seasoned veterans they all were. He pursed his lips, bemused, and focused on determining where exactly they were.
He'd not been exactly right about their location, but he'd not been far off-they had less than two kilometres to go before reaching the stream that would eventually lead them to the crossing point of the river. They could walk to the edge of the trees and simply follow their line, which would be good for both hiding from any eyes that might be looking for them, as well as for keeping them sheltered somewhat from the wind. They needed to get moving, though, and quickly, as there was little doubt the weather wouldn't hold fair for too much longer: the peaks to their north were already covered with low grey clouds.
He was turning to return to the group when he stopped, his eyes picking up what he'd missed by looking further away. The snow just to his west was disturbed, someone-or something, he conceded-packing it down as it walked a line along the trees. He walked over, frowning, unsure of what he was or should be seeing out of the densely packed snow. His hand found its way to his hip again, his eyes noting the tracks running for some distance along the tree line. At his two o'clock, the track suddenly jogged towards the hills-or from them. He stood motionless, taking his time scanning the entirety of the panorama before him now, looking for any sort of odd shape or movement that would set off his internal alarms.
There was nothing.
He frowned once more at the tracks, his lips pursed, and then slowly returned to where he'd emerged from the woods. Whatever it was that had been there was gone; it was time to worry about getting properly out of there.
Rab, Mikes, and Spitty were ready to leave when he returned, the only kit left on the ground his own knapsack. Rab was once more helping Mikes, while Spitty carried the other two sacks. "You need to focus on leading us out of this place," was Spitty's reply off of Elias's raised eyebrows.
"There are some tracks out there that aren't ours," he said quietly, his eyes scanning their site before glancing up at Mikes.
"What are they?" As he asked the question, Spitty gestured for Elias to move forward.
"Not sure. Nothing small. They end at the woods."
"Any evidence of it being out there?" Spitty was walking with him, Mikes and Rab following them quickly.
"No. They go along the trees for some ways, but also out towards the hills. Whatever it was, it's gone for now."
Spitty nodded.
"You used to hunt, didn't you?" Elias asked, glancing ahead of them to ensure he was still on the right path.
"A fair bit. Plenty to do, in the forests."
"If you follow my tracks out, the unknown set will be about three metres to your left. If you want to have a quick look."
Spitty gave him a grin, and loped on ahead of the group.
Elias paused, waiting for Mikes and Rab to catch up to him. Moving to the opposite side of Mikes from Rab, he wrapped an arm around the injured man. "I think it's time to get out of here, once and for all," he said with a grin at his friends.
Spitty was several metres away by the time they reached the tree line, bent almost double as he followed the line of packed snow across the open field. At Elias's whistle he rose, then slowly jogged back to the group.
"Well?" Elias drawled.
"Nothing I've ever seen. Big, though. Glad it decided to stay away-I don't think the gun would have been much use."
"Hmmm." Elias glanced at the scene before them once more, wanting to be absolutely sure that there was nothing waiting for them. As before there was no movement, and he let out a slow breath.
"Ready?" Spitty shifted the packs on his shoulders.
"Aye. Not far now." Elias jerked his head to his right, indicated their path. "Just follow the trees and we'll get there in the end."
It took them another two hours to make it back to the cars, the wind slowly picking up until it was howling at them, the river crossing treacherous with the newly-fallen snow marking the safe way across. It was a relief to reach the cars, to lean against the boot of Rab's and simply relax as he realized they'd made it in and out in less than twenty-four hours. Longer than he'd thought when they'd set out the day before, but remarkable given the conditions they'd ultimately faced.
"There's a camp stove in the boot of the car," Mikes said after they'd spent several minutes standing in silence together. "Had it in case we got stopped and asked what we were doing here."
"As lovely as a hot meal sounds, I don't think it'd be wise to press our luck. Especially not dressed like this." Rab gestured at their attire-hardly something any casual camper would wear, even in the wilds of Scotland.
"Good point."
They took some time to sort through the packs, ensuring each of them ended with the equipment he'd left base with, and then the knapsacks were carefully stowed in the boots of the car. As he stowed his bag in the boot, he quietly watched Mikes gave his keys to Spitty, the injured man seeming to suddenly wilt once the final chore was done. They all were exhausted; they needed to eat. Elias reached down to pull the remainder of the provisions from his bag, and handed them around once everyone's gear was safely stowed.
"There are services at Falkirk," Rab finally said around a mouthful of food, having glanced at the sky for the tenth time in what could only have been a few minutes. The wind whistled through the trees, indicating the weather was going to turn nasty very, very soon. "What say we get out of here and head there?"
"I like it." Spitty's answer was vehement enough to cause the rest of them to chuckle. "I'll be happy never to come back to this Godforsaken place. No disrespect to the mother country, McCoy," he hastily amended.
"None taken. It's eerie, no mistake." He paused a beat, then added, "Why don't I drive Mikes's car? I've had more sleep than you, Spitty, and I can actually get us out of here."
Spitty hesitated only a moment before accepting Elias's offer, handing over the keys. The four men shed their parkas, Elias haphazardly stuffing his in the rear of Mikes's car before ensuring the man himself was safely ensconced in the passenger seat. By the time Elias had navigated the car out of its parking spot and down the drive to the road, Mikes was fast asleep.
The stop at Falkirk was brief, the four of them ready to be back at base, to be away from their little sojourn in the Cairngorms. Nobody mentioned the odd incident that had occurred overnight, and Rab instead took the opportunity to tell an off-colour tale about a previous paramour. It was enough to get them all laughing and a bit more relaxed, and Elias felt more than up to the long drive back to base by the time they returned to the highway. His energy was starting to wane, however, by the time they reached the Borders, and he was fighting desperately to stay awake when he finally followed Rab off at the exit for the road leading to base. Mikes continued to snore blissfully on next to him, and Elias gave him a brief glare before channelling the last of his waning energy into navigating the twists of the B-road that led to home.
It wasn't until they returned to base, waved through the gate by a far too cheery sentry, that Elias wondered how on Earth they were going to explain Mikes's injury. Spitty was effectively the second in command of the unit, but he wasn't sure even that fact would allow them to escape scrutiny. He raised the question with Spitty once they'd parked and unloaded the cars, Elias watching as Rab escorted Mikes to the base infirmary. He was rewarded with a laugh.
"You know, McCoy, for a devious bastard you're still far too honest sometimes. I've got a plan, and it'll work." In the waning light of the day, Spitty's grin looked a touch evil.
"Alright, then." He shifted the shoulder strap of his knapsack, keen now to get inside and change out of his clothes.
"Thanks, by the way." Spitty extended his right hand. Elias took it, returning the firm handshake. "I owe you."
"All I ask is first crack at a hot shower after our next assignment."
"Not much to ask; I think it can be arranged. Although Rab already claimed that in the car. So let's say after the assignment after next."
Elias laughed. "I accept."
Spitty gave him a gentle punch in the arm. "And with that, McCoy, I will see you after leave is over. And hopefully not before." The older man turned and walked towards his barracks, a bounce in his step.
Elias shook his head, once again shifting the pack before turning towards the building housing his own room. He needed a shower, and then a meal, and then-finally, blissfully-a solid night's sleep in a warm bed. He needed to be ready for his date with Claire the next day, after all.
He set off to his building with a sudden spring in his own step, whistling one of the old pub tunes his gran had sung to him as a boy.
~ fin ~
A/N: I don’t know that I had ever really been clear on what it was Elias did, back when he wore olive drab, so writing this did wonders for sharpening that up. In the days before he got placed on radio duty-and actually even after he got saddled with that-Elias was the expert with a map and compass. His spidey sense, as Ms. Mak has termed it, turns out to be a great asset for the person responsible for getting a group in and out of someplace safe and unseen.
As for the rest of the cast of characters…
Robert: The team medic, he’s Elias’s best friend and the closest thing he has to a brother. He’s a charismatic Yorkshire lad who shares Elias’s quick wit and sense of humour.
Mikes: Their expert with anything and everything that goes bang, click, or boom. As with most folks in that speciality, he’s half-mad.
Spitty: The team sneak, the man whose job it is to get in and out of tight places, and to infiltrate groups and areas that the entire team wouldn’t be able to access. EGT would probably call him the team spy. ;)