Stone Cold Page 7

  “It’s a great song…”

  “But I guess it’s a valuable life skill.” She sighed. “Perhaps I should just sell.”

  “But not to Duke Tanner.”

  “Nobody else is forming a line.”

  Stone nodded. A bulldozer was making its way to an area of ground in the lee of the mountain. Behind it an excavator followed. “You know, when I heard gold mine, I pictured a cave, or a mineshaft dug into a wall of rock.”

  “Like the old timers prospecting?” she smiled. “All battened up with wood, like in the old Western movies?”

  “Yep.”

  “I guess they worked with what they had. Dynamiting into the mountainside made up for their lack of digging technology. Until the Chinamen of the Old West were put to work.”

  “Another of America’s less than desirable moments in history.” He paused. “And there’s been more than a few. Lieutenant Colonel Custer had been ordered by President Ulysses S. Grant not to do anything that might jeopardize the peace treaty with the native Americans, but Custer sent a letter to the New York Times and declared that he alone had discovered gold in the Black Hills in South Dakota. It sparked the US Gold Rush. The country was in recession, and everybody wanted to get rich. It meant the Sioux and Cheyenne Indians being pushed off their land, which meant war. And all for gold. I guess it’s fitting that Custer will always go down in history as self-serving and arrogant and dying in such a memorable manner. So confident of success was he, that he ordered his company to box up their sabers before they left. He thought he could gun the Indians down at a distance. They literally ended up in hand-to-hand combat against knives, spears, and tomahawks with nothing but empty guns to use as clubs. Eventually, the Native American people would be forced onto tiny reservations.”

  “I guess we were built upon slavery and exploitation. These days the gold is taken out of the ground by a never-ending line of people looking for good money and a share in the American Dream.” She paused. “Anyway, that old gold mine picture you have was the case in the Black Hills in South Dakota or in the mountains in Colorado and California, then they learned more about deposits in dried-up riverbeds. Sure, there were mines like that up here, but it’s mainly about scraping off the over burden on an industrial scale and getting down to pay dirt, which is a layer just above the bedrock. The gold sinks over time, until it can sink no further. It starts off in seams up in the mountains, then over millennia, it is pushed out by erosion, glacial movement, and rivers. It gathers on the bends in the rivers, sinks into what we call deposit pockets. Over time, the course of the rivers change, and soil builds on top from waste matter such as trees, dust, leaves and mud.”

  Stone looked at the bulldozer as it started to carve out its path. He tried to estimate how many football fields would fit into the ground. He used the size of the two vehicles to get some sense of perspective, watched a third vehicle make its way over to the other two. After he laid the football fields out across the bottom and down one side, he estimated a thousand stadiums worth of grass. Probably a whole lot more. Much of it had already been scraped to mud. “It looks like you only have a few patches left to mine,” he said pointedly, looking out towards the far end of the claim.

  “That’s right.”

  “So, if Duke Tanner wants your land so much, then what would be left for him to mine?”

  “Not so much,” she replied. “Just what you see here and going back another two hundred yards into the trees. But Tanner maintains he is the better miner and that if he re-mined the ground and the tailings… that’s the waste after going through the sluices… then he would find more gold. He basically wants to re-mine what three generations have spent blood, sweat and tears over.”

  Stone looked way to his left. There was a belt of trees and then a similar moonscape sight for almost as far as he could see. “What’s out that way?”

  “Duke Tanner’s claim.”

  “His claim butts right up to your own?”

  “We’re neighbors,” she said sardonically.

  Stone watched for a while. The machinery had a hypnotic, almost calming effect. The bulldozer tore off the top layer and the excavator filled the truck, then when it drove away, the excavator made a large pile of earth for moving. “If I were you, I’d concentrate all your efforts over there.” He pointed to the boundary of trees between the two claims.

  “You’re a prospecting expert all of a sudden, Mister Old West Movie…?”

  Stone checked his watch. The State Police would be here soon. “Duke Tanner has an agenda. I think he stumbled across your father’s core samples.”

  “I had thought that, but Marvin assured me the ground is untouched.”

  “Take a hike down there and have a thorough look,” said Stone. “And don’t tell Marvin.”

  “You don’t think I can trust him?” she asked, clearly wounded by the insinuation. “He was with my father for years. He was here briefly with my grandfather, too.” She shook her head. “No, I trust him implicitly.”

  “OK, I’ll let you be the judge of him. I’m just passing through. But the rest of your crew look like they’re swinging the lead.”

  “Swinging the lead?”

  “One of my mother’s many sayings. It means taking it easy on your dime.”

  Katy shrugged. “Short of cracking a whip across their backs, I don’t see what else I can do.” She paused. “I’m sure they will get more enthused once there’s gold in the grates.”

  Stone nodded. He could see she was struggling, but he was no expert on this type of work. He was a good motivator and had led men into combat, but like he said, he was merely passing through and had never even seen a gold mine before this morning. What did he know about manual labor and the way men took smoking and coffee breaks before working? “Well, I’m out of here,” he said. “I don’t want to be around when the police come here.”

  “I hope you can stop running soon, Rob. I really do.” She reached out and hugged him close, and he responded by holding her firmly. It felt warm and comfortable and right. She smelled good, too. “It was lovely getting to know you. However briefly. Hopefully, you’ll look back in someday?”

  Stone pulled away and smiled. “You can count on it.”

  Chapter Eleven

  North was right and south was left. Stone took the left and after thirty-minutes he was in Lame Horse and handing over two-thousand bucks to the guy who owned the auto parts store. He instructed him to tow Katy’s truck and get it fixed up enough to run. The guy had been confident he could get the engine mounted back in the vehicle, running as sweet as Ford had intended all those years ago and that any structural compressions could be straightened out on the jig. He liked Katy McBride, did work for both her father and grandfather, and would get the job done on his two big ones. If there was anything left over, he would work on what needed doing next. The truck was old, and Alaska was tough on trucks.

  Stone turned around and headed back up the highway. When he reached the sharp right-hand turning for McBride’s Folly, he slowed the truck and stopped in the middle of the road. Ahead would take him north and away from Lame Horse. He knew he could not be around when the State Police arrived. But he just couldn’t let it go. A nagging at the back of his mind. Stone had never walked away from a fight. And he was not about to do so now. He floored the gas pedal and when the truck hit the dirt road, the rear end slewed on the loose surface. Stone kept his speed to around forty. When he reached the site where Katy had been forced off the road, he slowed watching the police cruiser and the two officers beside the wreckage. They were shooting the breeze, doing no more of an investigation than looking at a truck with half its engine hanging out. Stone recognized the expressions on their faces and knew that they would be no closer finding the men who had done this to her in a week, a month, or a year. The police officers barely looked up as Stone passed them by.

  Stone took the left and settled in for the unfamiliar ride. There were the wrecked carcasses of mining equipment from t
rucks to backhoes to trommels littering the sides of the dirt road. Stone could see it was a make do and mend operation. Entire vehicles stripped out to cannibalize other equipment and keep them working. Some of the rusted hulks looked decades old and all had taken on a patina of red and brown, a trace of logo or sign writing only visible when it caught the light.

  Stone checked the .45 as he drove, tucked it into his inside jacket pocket. He now had two pump-action shotguns and one was in the footwell beside him. He was not sure about Alaska’s laws transporting firearms, but he figured it would be more casual than unloaded and locked inside a carrier. But he also figured that if it took a pair of nonchalant cops until midday to get here from three-hundred miles south, then he wasn’t going to be running into many patrol vehicles. Which worked out fine for what he had planned. If the term planned could be used, even loosely.

  Tanner’s mine mirrored McBride’s Folly in every way except one. There was the same equipment, the same mud and dirt and traces of ice and snow that had remained in the shade. The same lunar landscape, the same broken and felled trees bulldozed into heaps. The same cabin acting as an office, another for the gold room and another for what Stone assumed was a mess hall and recreation room. The only difference was that there were no groups of men standing around and shooting the breeze, sipping coffee and smoking. The vehicles were all in motion and the only man not digging, hauling, or bulldozing was Duke Tanner, and he stepped outside of his office cabin and watched as Stone pulled up front and switched off his engine. He wore a revolver in a holster on his hip.

  Stone got out, eyeing the openly carried handgun. “Expecting trouble? Just as well.”

  “There are bears all over. And people fixing to steal my gold. That’s reason enough.” He paused, looking around, then back at Stone. “You’re either brave or stupid.”

  “I’ve been both in the past, but today I’m just collecting what’s mine. It should be simple enough.”

  “I’m thinking… stupid.” Tanner’s hand neared the revolver. “There’s nobody around and no witnesses. Maybe I just thought you were fixing on stealing my gold.”

  “Suits me fine. I’m carrying, too.”

  Tanner spat on the ground and said, “Then, I hope you’re fast on the draw.”

  “The only thing faster is light...”

  Tanner frowned, looked around again, but there was still nobody else nearby. He had the look of a man about to make an irreversible decision, but still wasn’t quite sure whether he could do it. “What do you want?”

  “Four tires. Six-hundred bucks.”

  “And that’s it?”

  “Then I’m as good as gone.”

  “But you can’t let it lie,” said Tanner. “Six-hundred dollars is really that much to you?” He laughed. “Of course, it is. Look at your shitty truck, your shitty life…”

  It wasn’t just six-hundred dollars to Stone. He was on the run, but he hadn’t given the FBI everything. There was twenty-million dollars in various locations at his disposal and that gave him twenty-million ways of staying ahead of the hunt. No, to Tanner it was just six-hundred dollars, but to Stone it was letting a bully have his way. Stone couldn’t care less about the money.

  “It’s six-hundred bucks today,” Stone said quietly. “Or it’s more than you can afford another day.”

  “Just how do you figure that?”

  “Every now and then in life you meet a guy who you don’t push. Who you won’t get the better of, and who you don’t beat, no matter how hard you try.” Stone paused. “I’m that guy…”

  “Well, that makes two of us, I guess.” Tanner paused. “I figure you owe me a season’s pay for a man who can’t even wipe his own ass now.”

  Stone grinned. “No, that was on you.” He paused. “It’s all on you.” He looked at the earth mover near them. Six wheels and all of them over six feet high. “What do you figure one of those tires cost?”

  Tanner regarded him closely. “Two thousand bucks a piece.”

  “Wow. And there’s six of them, right? That’s going to get real expensive, real quick.”

  “You really like trouble, don’t you…?” Tanner stated flatly.

  Stone glanced to his left where two men were getting out of a small ATV which looked like a modern version of a Willys Jeep. Behind them, two more men ambled towards one of the cabins. Lunch break time. They watched Tanner and Stone as they fired up cigarettes and worked on them voraciously. Stone looked back at Tanner and said, “Looks like it’s chow time. Do it now, Tanner. Get six-hundred bucks out of your petty cash tin and give me what you owe me before your guys get wind that something’s going down. Better to bite the bullet and lose face with me, than with your entire crew…”

  “And you’re gone?”

  “Like yesterday.” Tanner looked over to the men as he considered his options. “People steal gold all the time,” he said. “Maybe you came up here fixing to get some easy money. I could talk the guys around real quick. It’s their gold in the grates as well…” He looked back at Stone and froze. Stone held the .45 in his right hand. The hammer was back, and Stone’s finger was close to the trigger. His leg shielded it from view, but not to Tanner. He had a close-up view, and his own revolver was in its holster, with a safety strap over the hammer, buttoned in place. “It’s all about situational awareness, Tanner. When to hold firm, when to look and when to draw someone’s attention. I’ve been here before. Many times.” He walked forwards, closing the gap between them, and edging the muzzle of the .45 up slightly so that it lined up with Tanner’s balls. Then Stone said, “Let’s go and get my money…”

  Chapter Twelve

  Duke Tanner sat back heavily in his leather swivel chair behind a desk he had made from old pallets and some reclaimed doors twenty-five years ago. He had no idea why he had kept the desk when he built the cabin ten years ago to replace his portacabin, but it was solid, and he thought it added a rustic charm.

  If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it…

  But something was very broken. Something had changed and he did not like it. He had been here all his life. He had made a success of himself. He was the big man and if the town was classed as a parish and required a mayor, then he would be it. He pulled gold out of the ground and employed twenty men and what he said was word. No question. He had his fingers in pies all over town – practically owned it as well as the people. And then a man had shown up, shown an interest in the one person standing between him and an unimaginable fortune and when he had tried to move the man on, he had been met with an immovable object. Was Tanner himself irresistible force? Because when irresistible force met immovable object, there was only room for destruction.

  But Stone was gone. He had paid the man what he had sought for the tires. It was done. Although the nagging feeling Duke Tanner was experiencing felt like defeat, and the one thing that could make defeat more palpable was victory. Without her protector, Katy McBride would fold. He just needed to exert more pressure. And he would do that in spades.

  “What the fuck did that guy want?” the man asked as he walked into the cabin, his footsteps echoing off the wooden floor and walls.

  Tanner looked up, watched the man’s brother follow him through the door. Both men were tattooed, sported shaven heads with more than a week’s stubble on their faces, and wore chunky gold chains around their necks. Big links, Cuban style. Tanner estimated a couple of pounds in weight each. More gold than Katy McBride was getting out of the ground for certain. Faded jeans and mid-length black leather jackets finished their look, and they certainly looked at odds in the Alaskan landscape. Or like they had lost their Harley Davidsons in a bet at Sturgis. He had sought out of towners, recommended by an acquaintance he had once done business with. The two men were working as casual labor, but if they stayed too long, with no discernible skillset, the other miners would start asking questions. They needed to get the job done and leave.

  “You boys fucked up,” Tanner said tersely. “Another mile and you could have r
un her right off the road and into the river. That was the plan. The same place her daddy met his end. The idea was that she would be scared witless, see how close she came to meeting her daddy’s fate and rethink my offer. If she died, she died. I will get the mine somehow, but you boys did a half-assed job making her crash on a straight stretch of road and then trying to finish her off by suffocating her. What the hell was that about?”

  “How did you know?”

  “Guess what? It’s a small fucking town…”

  “We got lost…”

  “I’m not paying you fifty-grand a piece to get lost. I’m paying you to do a job for me. I want the deeds to her mine and the mining rights signed over to me. So, I want her willing to accept my offer. She needs to be softened up.” He paused. “Now, it can’t be a damned car accident again. It will look too suspicious. I want her to sell to me. I want her to run back down south and never look back. Understand?”

  “Got it,” the older brother replied.

  “Now, get the hell out of here. You’re stinking the place up…”

  Both men turned and walked out of the cabin. When they were outside, the older brother said, “What the hell were you doing with her?”

  The younger brother gave a crooked, grin. His teeth were blackened and chipped and he had escaped even the most basic of America’s dental plans his entire life. “She’s a sweet piece of ass,” he said. “And I bet she’s got tits and a pussy sweeter than a candy store window. I was just seeing if I could make her go night-night before I got myself a piece of it.”

  The older brother punched him playfully on the shoulder as they walked. “Shit, bro. I thought eight years in the slammer would have taught you that if you can’t get some and you need to play, then it’s better to pay…”

  “Not exactly going to find me a hen house around here, am I?”

  “Damn, brother. Just keep your dick in your pants and think about what you can do back in San Fran with fifty gees in your pocket.” He paused. “Don’t go getting all weird and shit on me, we got a job to do.”