Page 27 of Taming Her Bears

“He was lucky. It was a flesh wound. It bit through the flesh of his arm and embedded in the wall. It didn’t hit bone, but it tore a muscle.”

Josh began pacing, hands behind his back, muttering. “She blew up two people with a military weapon in Canadian waters. How do we explain that? Who teaches her these things?” He stopped in front of me and looked sharply into my face. I trembled with undefined guilt. “Did you teach her? Are you the reason she does what she pleases?”

“I probably am, sir,” I admitted, feeling it was better to agree than to contradict him.

He stood woefully in the middle of the floor, his hands still behind his back. “I suspected as much. You never can trust a Viking with a Russian woman. Now, how do we explain this to the authorities?”

“Let the admiral sort it out,” Natalia suggested. “You were fired upon while investigating the murder of McCarthy and his team.”

“In a high-speed chase,” I added.

“That’s how it happened,” confirmed Josh. “We were fired upon and… and one of the enlisted personnel fired back. It was self-defense.”

I was growing more confident about our story by the minute. “We had been chasing them so long, we didn’t realize we had crossed the border. It was an honest mistake.”

“Except, who fired the shot?”

I scratched my chin thoughtfully. “Maybe Pete’s willing to take the credit.”

“After he was shot?”

I clicked my teeth together. “Tough guy, Pete is. A real hero. After getting shot, he was so angry to see these murderers getting away, he shot back at them. Never meant to hit the fuel tank. That’s what happens when both arms aren’t fully operational.”

“That’s a fact, isn’t it? Pete was very brave. He’ll probably get a medal.”

Satisfied that his bases were still covered, he bounded into the pilot’s cabin, going up the stairs two steps at a time. Pete was being treated for his wound. He looked pale, but was already gaining the goofy look of someone high on drugs. “Hey, Captain,” he croaked cheerfully. “I took one for the team.”

Josh patted the uninjured shoulder. “I see you did. You’re a good man. I’m going to get you off this boat as soon as I can. Go below, Commander. Check into the infirmary. We’ll reach our target area in twenty minutes.”

“Permission to remain here,” he said in a loopy voice.

“Permission denied. I’ll call you in two hours. Get some rest.”

Captain Josh regained the wheel, easing the ship in even closer to the island banks, sliding around bends with the engines murmuring so low, they sounded like cats purring. It was a miracle nobody was close enough to hear the shots or see the explosion. Again, maybe not. The islands were largely deserted this time of year. The tourist season was over. Fishermen were throwing their nets into the icy of waters of the northern Pacific. The small towns sleepily curled around themselves, waiting for spring.

Once the bodies were discovered, it wouldn’t be hard to defend our case, not with the deserted cutter so close to the scene. It would just be difficult to explain ourselves if we got caught snooping around Vancouver. It was Captain Josh’s expertise that we all depended on to keep that from happening.

We reached the target area in the length of time the captain said we would. He settled the ship back into a little cove and dropped anchor. It was a good location. The cove curved inland enough to form a natural barrier, yet left a wide mouth at one end that allowed us to an unrestricted view of the ocean from our swampy port of overhanging trees and tangled brush. In our hiding place, so close to the shore, the boat rocked against a bed of surfacing seaweed, and we could see the white dot of the cruise ship six miles away. We aimed the telescopic lens on the pilot’s deck at it and took turns watching the fuzzy panorama of activity.

We spent about an hour studying the layout and watching visitors arrive. We found no sign of the Canadian Coast Guard, and few indicators of activity apart from the cruise ship. Some of the visitors came in by boat, buzzing up to the stern and using the ladders, some came by helicopter. We recognized a few faces from the Internet news feed. Arrogant and wealthy, they strutted around with their air of diplomatic immunity, flickering in and out of the telescopic lens.

After giving him his two-hour rest, Pete was summoned from sickbay. He arrived still a little fuzzy-headed, but it was nothing two cups of the cook’s stout, black coffee wouldn’t fix. Josh gave him an intense look. “Are you with us, Commander?”

“Aye, sir.” Pete looked at his surroundings drowsily, his eyes slowly taking in the cul-de-sac the captain had snuggled us into, and the telescope lens fixed at a white spot on the ocean.

“We’ve got our enemy in the line of sight. My team is headed out. I want you and everyone else to sit tight. That includes Natalia. Make no noise, fire no weapons, do nothing at all once we’re out there, no matter what you see.”

“Yes, sir,” said Pete, looking anxiously at Natalia, while she tapped her foot and pressed her lips together.

Josh stopped in his instructions long enough to glower at Natalia before resuming his speech. “Tell the crew to keep their eyes peeled, Commander, for any extra signs of activity. If we aren’t back before the first Canadian guard appears, raise anchor and hightail it out of here. Get back into U.S. waters. And take this woman with you. If she kicks and screams, tie her up and lock her in her quarters.”

“Captain, we would be leaving you stranded.”

He huffed. “If you’re caught in these waters without so much as permission from the port authorities, there will be such a stink about U.S. trespassing and spying, it will take a hundred years to air it all out.” With a self-satisfied sigh, he added, “There is no jurisdiction for bears.”

The atmosphere in the cabin was rather glum. None of the human crew was happy about being left out of the main flurry, but there was no choice. The law can only be bent so far before it breaks. We’d always been on good terms with Canada. Canadians were reasonable people and as eager as anyone to put the bad guys away, but they couldn’t turn their heads at the unthinkable, when the unthinkable was carnage caused by humans.

The captain led us into the ready room and closed the door gently. The privacy was meant to spare the rest more pain at being excluded from the final stage of our pursuit. He gathered us into a huddle like football players, pumping us up, allowing us to taste our own adrenaline.

---