Chapter 25

Friday Morning

In the vicinity of Forest Service Road 2423

Olympic National Forest, Washington

Ben cleared the first ridge after about 10 minutes of a steady uphill slog. His two pursuers had fallen slightly behind him but didn’t look inclined to give up yet.

Ben thought he had a chance to leave them behind but what he really wanted was to find out more of who they were. Besides a single slip or fall and he was done for no matter how far ahead he could get. They had two chances to his one and would probably just kill him on the spot if either of them got close enough. He also had a pretty good chance of running to help before they could stop him but he didn’t want to involve anyone else who wasn’t law enforcement. What he knew about special ops in general was that they would not hesitate to ‘sanitize’ the scene of any innocent bystanders who happened to witness what was happening. And these guys were definitely some sort of operators.What he needed to stop them was a way of first channeling their movement. These two moved like they were very fit but he was pretty sure that this wasn’t the environment that they were used to. They just didn’t step the way that runners who were used to trail running would. Maybe he could take advantage of that to stop them.

As soon as Ben crossed a small game trail running parallel to the top of the ridge he knew he had found what he needed. It was unlikely that this trail was used by humans on a regular basis but it did make running easier. Ben made sure to leave a footprint and break some branches so that his pursuers would know that he had turned right off onto the trail. It seemed a little obvious to him but again he was betting that tracking wasn’t something they were very familiar with. Unlike Hollywood would have people believe any particular type of special forces operator would have some general skills in common but their real expertise would be in a very specific skill set. He was betting that tracking was not a specific skill that these two had or it would be very obvious what he was attempting to do.

Once he was sure they would spot his trail, Ben accelerated down the game trail, sending a quick thanks to Pan for his enhanced physicality. He ducked around trunks, under branches and danced from boulder to boulder. He hadn’t been able to run like this since he was 18 if ever! He needed to get a solid 8 to 10 minutes ahead of them though and it was going to be a push.

Soon he spotted what he needed right at a sharp bend in the trail. Just past the bend and close to the right side of the trail were two small pines that had grown with only a small space between them. Ben jumped a few feet off the trail and quickly dug out his Hogue F01 knife from his go bag. The damn thing was way too heavy to carry on a daily basis but was perfect for a go bag when it might be the only tool he had to rely on. Five whacks and the thick blade went right through the 2 inch thick vine maple sapling he had chosen. Vine maple is not only an extremely dense wood it also has a springiness unrivaled in Western hardwoods making it ideal for what Ben had in mind. Ben quickly trimmed the top and smaller branches away and then wedged the larger end of the trimmed sapling at chest level between the two close grown pines he had spotted earlier. He then tied off the base snugly with some 550 paracord he retrieved from his go bag.

Then using all of his strength Ben levered the free end of the sapling forward until it formed an arc nearly parallel to the trail. He tied the top of the sapling off using a friction slip knot. He carefully smeared dirt on any exposed white wood and ran the trailing end of the slip not back along the trail to a hide he quickly fashioned out of loose stones dirt and leaves on the uphill side of the trail just above the trap.

He guessed that he still had maybe a minute so he stripped off his bright running clothes and smeared dirt and leaves over his face, hands and upper body. The late fall air was icy but he knew it would only be a few moments until the outcome of this chase would be determined.

With the knife in his right hand he slowly slid into place after one last check to ensure nothing was obvious about his trap, Ben didn’t think there was any way he was going to get both of them with the lever. Tactically, it would be a really bad idea to clump together when in pursuit of an unknown adversary. Ben was hoping to stun the lead pursuer and then subdue the second in line. Killing the second would be much more certain than just putting him out of commission, but he wanted information if he could get it. Ben had no real worry about his lever trap working. A British Royal Marine Colour Sergeant had shown him and his platoon how to make them during his counter insurgency jungle training in Panama many years ago. Insurgents in Central America used them frequently and they were both simple and reliable.

Less than 30 seconds after settling in, Ben could hear the lead runner approaching. Apparently, these two were either very overconfident or not very well trained since Ben could hear that the following pursuer was almost on the heels of the first. Ben had one eye trained through a gap he had left between two stacked rocks and the moment the first runner came fully around the bend, he pulled the trailing end of the friction knot. The knot came free cleanly and the sapling swung around faster than the eye could follow, smashing chest high into the first runner with several hundred pounds of force sweeping him back into the second runner. Both tumbled to the trail and rolled backwards down the hill.

Ben leaped out of his hide and down the ridge. He could immediately see that the first runner was completely out, the second was slightly stunned but trying to get to his feet when Ben tackled him to the ground and gave him a solid whack with the skull crusher pommel of his knife on the back of his head.

Ben was trying not to hit too hard but he was afraid that adrenaline might have over-amped his strike and he might have killed the second man as the man went immediately limp and flopped to the forest floor. Ben would kill if he had to but would rather avoid it if possible so he was rather relieved when he could see they were both breathing.

Shit what now, Ben thought. There was no way of interrogating them. He didn’t have the time to wait until they regained consciousness. Cell phone coverage was spotty to nonexistent up here, but if they had a sat phone they could have called in their situation and it’s quite possible the phone itself had auto tracking enabled. Quickly Ben searched both men for any documents throwing both of their wallets into his go bag. Their pockets were completely clean confirming the likelihood that they were operators of some sort.

If undercover, an operator might have ‘pocket lint’ that would support their cover but otherwise they would travel completely clean of any identifying information. Their wallets would probably have fake ids but nothing more. Ben would take them anyway hoping that he might be able to contact someone who could identify their origin at least. Ben’s worry about sat phones was confirmed as he rolled the second man onto his side and discovered a small tactical pouch containing the smallest satellite phone Ben had ever seen. Ben was tempted to take it but was too concerned about the signal being tracked. Ben didn’t want to leave an armed opponent anywhere behind him so he yanked their pistols out from their waistband holsters, disassembled them and threw the pieces as far away as he could.

Just as Ben was turning to leave he thought of something and returned to the men turning over both of their forearms. One was clean but the other had a tattoo that looked like it was in the process of being removed. In the filtered sunlight of the forest Ben could still make out a symbol and a few Chinese characters. Ben tried to burn the symbol into his memory but wasn’t sure of how much luck he would have recalling it later.

It was just about time to get the fuck out of dodge. Ben almost took off running and then remembered that he was naked except for some dirt and leaves. So he quickly threw on his running gear and headed back along the game trail. He was pretty sure he knew where the trail intersected a main hiking trail that then led down into a large campground where even in the autumn there would be at least a few dozen people and maybe even a ranger he could report to. There was more exposure at the campground than could easily be ‘sanitized’ at least.

Ben made great time covering the 4 miles of difficult terrain cross country to the camp ground in just under 40 minutes. He could see the campground just over a small hump in the trail so he turned on the speed. Unfortunately, on the other side of the hump some well meaning trail maintainer had spread gravel over a perennial muddy spot. When Ben’s lead foot hit the loose gravel it slipped out from under him and upended Ben over the downhill side of the trail and onto some boulders. Ben smacked his knee and then his forehead into one of the larger boulders.

Ben’s last conscious thought was, ‘maybe I should give up running’.

Friday late morning

Harborton High School

Harborton Washington