When the first Alaskan sunlight hadn't reached the valley, T.B. was awakened by the good smell of canned meat. He opened his eyes. The sky was still dark. Light, colorful waves danced in the sky in vibrant shades of green, yellow, blue, pink, and purple.
This dazzling spectacle in the sky was created by energetic particles from the Sun flying at speeds of up to 45 million kilometers per hour and crashing into the Earth's magnetic field. Because our planet was protected by a magnetic field, those particles were redirected toward the poles, interacting with the atmosphere. It was this interaction of energy that created fluorescence, forming the aurora. The Inupiat Eskimos called them the Northern Lights.
The Northern Lights were one of the most magical natural phenomena in the world, occurring in Alaska. They were also well-known and named Aurora Borealis by the Inupiat Eskimos. When the sun went down, people could see them most clearly in locations within a radius of about 1,550 km around the North Pole.
T.B. sat up. Anderson was warming two cans of canned meat by the fire. T.B. comfortably watched Anderson doing his job. He was working leisurely, without the slightest worry. He looked like a wanderer on an adventure trip.
Anderson spoke when he saw T.B. walking next to him.
"T.B., we have to have breakfast first. If we don't have enough energy, our bodies will be as weak as slugs, and we won't be able to save anyone, including ourselves. If we can't save ourselves, then who can we save? Today will be a difficult day for us."
T.B. silently followed Anderson's instructions, never saying a word, even as he gathered a pile of old, dirty clothes, rolled them into a makeshift doormat, tied them across the lid of his backpack, and slung it over his shoulder. He remained quiet as they continued on their way. Anderson often said the right things, but to T.B., he was sometimes too talkative, too rational—so much so that T.B. didn't even want to listen.
But today, Anderson said nothing. As they walked side by side, T.B. occasionally glanced at him. Anderson was moving faster than yesterday. He learns quickly, T.B. thought, noticing how Anderson no longer gasped for breath. A satisfied smile crossed his lips. They were like two cats, silently hunting the same mouse.
--
When two young men saw the abandoned Toyota Hilux on the road, T.B. came to another solid conclusion about Anderson's words. Not everything Anderson said was completely correct. The Toyota Hilux was abandoned at the foot of the mountain, not at the top. The pickup truck was parked with its tail against a cliff next to the river.
T.B. pulled a Glock 17 pistol from his pants pocket. He ran and leaned his back against the cliff on the riverbank. The spot where he stood was only about ten steps away from the Toyota Hilux, right behind the passenger seat of the vehicle. He knelt on one knee, sitting on his left leg and extending his right shoulder forward. His head tilted in the direction of his right arm. His right hand held the Glock 17 pistol. In that position, his entire body turned horizontally to one side. He minimized his exposed area to reduce the risk of being shot by the assassin. From there, he could calmly observe and evaluate the scene.
Part of the rear trunk of the Toyota Hilux was half-stuck into the cliff. The other half and a rear wheel protruded beyond the river. The long pickup truck's nose was on the road, occupying almost half of the road surface. The spot where the Toyota Hilux was abandoned had narrowed into a bottleneck. Both sides were steep rocky cliffs—one side was a forest growing on a cliff, the other was an abyss.
T.B. knew the assassin could be hiding and ready to shoot from three possible angles: inside the car, from the front of the driver's seat, or in the forest on the opposite cliff.
T.B. held the Glock 17 pistol with both hands, raising it to eye level. His eyes and neck moved in every direction he suspected danger. His movements were as flexible as a chicken's—wherever his eyes looked, the Glock followed. His index finger rested beside the trigger guard, always ready to press it at the slightest sign of anything suspicious.
"T.B., the handbrake of the Toyota Hilux was released."
Anderson was also kneeling on one knee behind T.B. His Columbia backpack and long tree stick lay in the middle of the road. He whispered into T.B.'s ear.
"What is this crazy man talking about?" T.B. wondered as both of them ran quickly toward the car.
He looked closely at the pickup again. Anderson was right. The back of the Toyota Hilux was crushed from crashing into the cliff. The right side of the rear trunk, along with the passenger seat door, was also broken and folded down. The scene clearly showed that the assassin had driven close to the top of the mountain until the vehicle ran out of fuel. He pulled the handbrake and got out of the car, dragging Layla Smith with him. Then, he turned the steering wheel and released the handbrake, letting the Toyota Hilux slide down the mountain slope toward the abyss. But he had miscalculated—the truck crashed into the cliff instead of falling into the river.
Suddenly, Anderson said,
"T.B., cover me so I can check inside the pickup."
Then, without waiting for T.B.'s response, he rushed toward the driver's seat of the Toyota Hilux.
Holding the Glock 17 in both hands, T.B. stepped back slightly for a better view. From this position, he could sweep the muzzle of the Glock 17 toward both the driver's seat of the Toyota Hilux and the cliff in the opposite direction. But he focused his attention more on the high cliff behind the truck. If the assassin were there, he could easily shoot them.
From the moment T.B. heard Anderson's analysis of the assassin's movements, he stopped worrying about Anderson's life. At least, Anderson was still safer than him. T.B. would be the next target.
Since witnessing Anderson's actions, a feeling of confidence had filled T.B.'s mind. He had confidence during this dangerous hunt again. He felt that the two of them were exactly two cats—two cats hunting a mouse, the assassin.
Anderson opened the passenger door of the Toyota Hilux. Empty. Luckily, his "survival bag," containing his laptop and tablet, was still under the passenger seat. The assassin had clearly forgotten it in a hurry. Anderson pulled the bag out and placed it on the ground. The Toyota Hilux was in a precarious position with the handbrake released. It could fall into the abyss at any moment, and he might lose the bag again.
He smiled to himself mockingly and contemptuously. If he were the assassin, no one would escape his grasp.
He walked to the front of the pickup, went to the driver's side, and opened the door. He carefully reached in and pulled the handbrake to secure the vehicle. The plastic box containing T.B.'s Glock 17 was still under the driver's seat.
That was correct. In his haste, the assassin hadn't checked thoroughly before abandoning the car.
He smirked again. If he had the guts to be an assassin, he would have earned a lot of money and been rich a long time ago.
Anderson turned back and jumped onto the trunk of the Toyota Hilux. He wanted to check if the assassin had left anything behind. He kicked at the pile of climbing clothes, still wet and smelly from when they rushed into the lake to save the rotting headless corpse. It seemed like nothing was beneath the pile.
Anderson turned around and called to T.B., who was sitting behind him, his head turning left and right like a lighthouse.
"T.B., there's no one here. Come here." He grinned and waved his hand.
T.B. continued scanning the area through the sights of the Glock 17. He slowly swept the gun's muzzle from the front of the Toyota Hilux up toward the top of the cliff in the forest. His movement looked like the sweep of a lighthouse beam on the seaside.
Anderson found T.B.'s actions amusing. T.B. didn't look like a lighthouse guiding ships to safety—he looked like a rooster preening for hens in a garden. Yes, he looked exactly like an arrogant country rooster. Anderson laughed and called again,
"T.B., come here. Don't be shy, lady. Ha ha."
Suddenly.
Anderson's laugh suddenly disappeared.
He saw T.B. raise the Glock 17. He saw T.B.'s index finger move onto the trigger of the Glock 17 pistol and slowly tighten. He saw the barrel of the Glock 17 pistol pointing up above his head, toward the cliff in the distance behind him. He saw the barrel of the Glock 17 pistol flash before the violent gunshot sounded.
Run!
A sudden thought flashed through his mind.
Anderson's feet automatically pressed down on the floor of the trunk of the Toyota Hilux as his ears registered the gunshots. His legs started as fast as Usain Bolt's—the world-famous Jamaican retired sprinter—when he heard the starting gun in the Olympic stadium.
At the same time, Anderson slid down and fell onto the surface of the gravel road, an explosion sounded from the back of the Toyota Hilux. Pebbles flew up, falling all over him. The smelly clothes of the two young men fluttered and fell as well.
Lying on the road, turning to look back at the Toyota Hilux, Anderson saw a string of detonator wire hanging from the back of the vehicle. That section of detonator wire was covered with a thin layer of soil and rock, forming a slender convex ridge running under the vehicle to the front of it, and then to the edge of the forest. The assassin had detonated C4 explosives using this tens-of-yards-long string of wire.
C4 explosive, an artificial seismic wave generator left over from the previous day's work, created an explosion. The blast blew the gravel that had been deliberately packed on top, making a small hole in the floor of the trunk of the Toyota Hilux. Luckily for Anderson, the explosion was not strong enough, and he had reacted promptly. Otherwise, he didn't know what would have happened to him.
One thing was certain—T.B. had discovered the assassin's actions when the assassin turned the generator on and pressed the detonation lever. T.B. had opened fire on the assassin.
Anderson knew for sure—he had to get out of this dangerous position.
And T.B.—all of his positive thoughts about being a cat disappeared when he realized that the mouse had set a trap to catch two cats.
They hadn't been hunting.
They had walked straight into a trap of a mouse.