Misty and the Mountain Men--Part 3
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Hello all,
This is the third and final part of Misty and the Mountain Men. It got delayed for several reasons, one of which being that it wasn't in machine readable form. (I take notes with an old fashioned pen and clipboard and transcribe them. Then I get too many pages, I dread standing around and typing them. You can thank Tanya for cracking the buggy whip at me.)
Enjoy!
***
Dawn came much too early.
Still, my automatic alarm clock got me up early enough to watch the morning sun paint the peaks of the surrounding hills. I wished I had a camera with some fast slide film. If I had known about the change in plans before I got in the trailer, I would have had both camera and film.
Maybe next time.
"Good morning, Miss," interrupted a somewhat familiar voice.
I turned a flinch into a quick turn.
It was the Indian 'brave' who I spoke to at the Grizzly campground.
"Good morning," I replied. "Are you going to be escort on the upcoming ride?"
"Yes, Miss," he replied.
"Are we going to backtrack or are we going to go a different route?" I asked.
"That is for you and Tanya to decide."
"If you had a vote, what would you choose?" I asked.
"How hard would you be willing to ride?" he asked in return.
I looked over my shoulder at my equine body. Then I turned back to him.
"I wouldn't want to do a long endurance race, but I wouldn't mind pushing things if it was worth it. What do you have in mind?"
"Something worth it," he replied. "Would your...significant other be up to a hard ride?"
I chuckled. "My wife and her horse might be able to outride anybody here. I certainly wouldn't want to challenge her unless there was a trailer at the end of the trail."
"I'll speak to Tanya," he said.
"Could you give me a hint of what you're thinking about?" I asked.
The Indian 'brave' smiled. "Counting coup," he answered. He turned and headed for the cabin.
I didn't like the sound of that.
Forty five minutes later Tanya, my wife and I were on the trail heading for another meadow. With the exception of the ponies, we were traveling light, fast and silent. Our goal was to reach the meadow as quickly as possible and then play an elaborate game of hide and seek once a young mountain man joined us.
We had two hours of lead time before the Indian 'braves' would leave the cabin to hunt us. To make things worse, some of the mountain men reverted to their roots and joined the Indians.
Luckily the cowboys with their scoped rifles were neutral because they didn't exist yet. (Somebody had to stay on guard despite the fact that we were in safe territory.)
We let Tanya set the pace since she knew where we were headed.
"Go for distance," my wife said. "We'll want time to talk strategy."
Two hours later we went over the top of a ridge.
"Hunter's camp is down there," Tanya said. "We should hit the main trail in about five minutes."
"I can see it from here," my wife commented from her perch on her horse. "Let's rest a bit."
"Shouldn't we contact our partner?" Tanya asked.
A bird warbled nearby. "We don't need to," I said, recognizing the species. "He's here."
"I'm missing something," Tanya said.
The underbrush rustled as a leather clad young man noisily came out of his hiding place.
"Hi Dad," he said.
"Where is your horse?" my wife asked. "Just off the main trail. I figured that we would hit the trail and backtrack a ways before we split up."
"What's this about splitting up?" asked Tanya.
"Tactics," my wife said. "If we're careful how we split up, it will be harder to track us. We could also be a lot more aggressive and count coup too."
"I don't know about that," Tanya said. "Bill and his buddy were Special Forces. They're good."
"Which one is Bill?" I asked.
"You talked to him this morning," Tanya answered.
"Oh," I said as I rearranged my mental image of Bill. I had half expected a crew cut super macho ex-army type with a heavy bias against 'queers' and other non-heterosexuals. The curiously polite Indian 'brave' who looked Indian did not fit the image.
"Are there any others with special training?" my wife asked.
"Yes," said Tanya. "SEALS, Green Berets. And all of the Indians are real Indians."
"I knew it was a setup," my wife said calmly. "I just didn't know the real odds."
"They aren't good," admitted Tanya.
"Then we change them," my wife continued. "You, Misty and the ponies get to be the rabbits being hunted by wolves. While you're on the run, my son and I will be wolf hunting."
"Let's go Tanya," I said.
"I don't know about this," Tanya said.
"Take my horse with you," my son called. "I have everything I need in my haversack."
"Will do," I replied, breaking ranks with the others.
I glanced back in time to see my wife and son silently fade into the underbrush. A few minutes later we found his gelding, lightly packed and ground tied.
"You lead, I'll follow," I said. "Pick up the pace."
"I don't think your wife and son know what they're getting into," warned Tanya.
"They know that our chances will be a lot better if they can count coup on our pursurers," I answered. "The more they remove from the chase, the better the odds. All we have to do is make it to the 'Fort.'"
The 'Fort' was another wilderness cabin about half way to the pickup point. Our party had to make it there without being captured in order to win.
When Tanya and I reached the rendezvoux point, we stopped for a rest and a drink. I had her draw out a map of the terrain and the shortest route to the 'Fort' on a piece of scrap paper. I then drew in the most likely intercept routes.
"How do you get around this?" I asked Tanya, handing her the map and pencil.
She drew in her solution, explaining why she thought it might work.
"Then we'll do that with one difference," I said. "Mount up and get moving."
We headed back to where Tanya and I found my son's horse. To confuse any trackers, I frequently changed directions and circled around as if I were a curious pony. It wasn't long before the ponies were doing the same thing.
When we reached the place were the main trail connected to our over the ridge short cut, I took out the map and dropped it.
"Misty, what are you up to?" Tanya asked.
"I'm accidentally losing our plans so everybody will know where we're going," I explained. "Then you and I and these ponies are going to play hide and seek."
"What do you have up your sleeve?" Tanya asked.
"Two aces, four jokers and some rule changes, I said as I wrote a note. I handed the note to Tanya, putting my index finger to my lips for silence.
Half an hour later Tanya, the ponies and I were sneaking through the woods, heading in the general direction of our starting point. Tanya was wearing moccasins and a bra. I wasn't wearing a thing. Both of us were dabbed with camo paint to hide the non-equine parts of the body.
To hide our trail, all twelve hooves were covered with padded bags. Tanya's horse had been left behind to further confuse the trackers. Better yet, all the tracking devices had been left behind at the ambush site.
After traveling a ways I found a nice thicket that looked like a good hiding place. There were signs that deer or elk used the area for shelter.
"Let's rest here for a few hours," I said in a very quiet voice.
Tanya nodded once and took the rear. We worked our way into the thicket and made ourselves comfortable.
Some time later we heard the hiss-crackle of a hand held two way radio. I motioned for everybody to keep silent and lay low.
"They're doing what?" asked a voice.
Hiss-crackle.
"They've got guts," answered the voice at this end. "How are you going to handle it?"
Hiss. Crackle. Crackle.
"Be careful Bill. For amateurs, they're good. Don't give them too much of a handicap."
Hiss. Crackle.
"Everything is quiet here. Those hikers in Sector Twelve left the area when they encountered the militia."
Hiss. Crackle. Crackle.
"Yes. Al's group. He said 'Hi' and asked me to ask you if you're interested in a friendly wager."
Hiss. Crackle.
"Okay. If none of them reach the 'Fort,' you get a thousand dollars. For every leg that reaches the 'Fort.' that thousand is reduced by fifty dollars. When the amount reaches zero, each additional leg is worth a hundred dollars."
Hiss. Crackle. Crackle. Crackle.
"Okay. It's your money. I'll relay the message."
Hiss. Crackle.
The rider moved out of range.
"Interesting," I said when he was out of range.
"What?" whispered Tanya.
"How much did you hear?" I asked, flicking my ears forward.
"Not much," admitted Tanya.
I gave her a brief summary of the one sided conversation.
"They're cheating," Tanya said.
"They're seeing how well we play the game," I countered. "It sounds like they are going to play fair and let my wife and son take out a couple of the trackers. If all goes well, the trackers won't discover that we're not with them."
"Oh!" said Tanya.
"I think we can go now," I said, struggling to my feet. "We need to get to a 'Fort.'"
Our round about route took us past the place where we spent the night.
"I have an idea," Tanya said as we paused near the cabin.
"What is it?" I asked.
"We're going to count coup," Tanya replied. "Get your knife ready."
I pulled out my Bowie knife. (Okay. I was wearing the knife. But a knife isn't clothing.)
Ten minutes later Tanya and I had 'killed' two of the enemy and 'captured' their horses and supplies. While we ate, we listened to the play-by-play of the ambush.
"They got away clean," was Bill's awed comment.
One of the 'dead' trackers complained that the well padded tomahawk that 'killed' him wasn't part of the Rules of Engagement.
One of the outriders piped in with a comment that tracking electronics and radio weren't R.O.E. for the period while tomahawks were.
Tanya and I got out 'dead' bodies to agree to limit their communications to the outriders, provided the outriders wouldn't mention our raid.
They agreed. We then took the three fastest horses.
We pushed the pace until we were about an hour away from the 'Fort.' Tanya switched horses frequently. The ponies and I just focused on the trail and concentrated on making tracks. By then I could tell that the horses knew the destination.
It was early afternoon and getting warm.
"Are there any decent swimming holes around here?" I asked.
"The horses can go ahead," I stated. "The rest of us will relax and sneak in the back route. After a swim."
"I think we should go to the 'Fort' first," Tanya said.
I sighed. "Only if we're careful," I explained. "I have a feeling that we're heading into an ambush."
"Oh!" said Tanya.
The 'stolen' horses went on ahead while Tanya, the ponies and I went swimming. Once our trail was lost in the running water, we headed for the 'Fort.'
One of the outriders intercepted us a quarter mile from our destination.
"Good evening ladies," he said. "Did you enjoy yourselves?"
"How are the trackers doing?" Tanya asked.
"Poorly," said the outrider. "They've only now realized that you and Misty split off at the first ambush point. They've also been successfully ambushed three times."
"Bill's not going to like that," Tanya said.
"Bill thinks it is great," disagreed the outrider. "The rest of the hands are pissed that a middle aged woman and a teen aged boy can take out combat vets."
"How do you feel about it Frank?"
The outrider smiled. "I agree with Bill's philosophy. I also suspect that we might be doing this tomorrow."
I groaned. "We'll discuss that later," I said. "Let's go Tanya."
The four of us galloped to the 'Fort.' There we found the 'stolen' horses in with the pack animals. Behind the cabin a kitchen crew was preparing dinner.
Tanya got to sample dinner while the ponies and I tanked up on oats and hay. After about fifteen minutes I realized that the kitchen crew was trying very hard not to stare at Tanya and I. Then things got exciting when my wife and son came galloping into the 'Fort,' surrounded by 'captured' horses.
"Hi love," my wife said after dismounting. "How did it go?"
I laughed and gave her the Reader's Digest version of our exploits. The kitchen crew helped corral the 'captured' horses while we watched dinner cook.
Half an hour later the first of the Indians came wandering in.
"Shit," he said when he saw Tanya and I. "Where were you two?"
"We sprouted wings and flew away," Tanya answered, grinning.
"I'm tempted to believe you," he said. He stared at Tanya a moment, shook his head, and headed for the coffee pot.
Bill and the others trickled in over the next two hours. The 'dead' and 'injured' were among the first to arrive because they had headed to the 'Fort' shortly after they were 'killed' or 'injured.' The mounted survivors arrived last because they were scattered all over searching for 'four jokers.'
Once everybody got in, we told them the full story. More or less.
Bill then asked for a rematch because he had lost several thousand dollars. He hadn't expected us to 'capture' enemy horses.
My wife had to be talked into it.
She then bet that we would make it to the pickup point despite their best efforts.
That set my senses on full alert. My wife is not a gambler. Betting on a sure thing is not a gamble.
The final bet was fifteen hundred bucks a head, no additional livestock permitted. The ponies were considered to be part of the group. The horses were excluded. My wife then excused us so we could talk tactics and get some rest before breakfast.
As expected, we went to the barn, pausing only to put 'boots' on the ponies and I. We then headed for the pickup point in the dark.
Two hours after sunrise an ultra light flew over us.
"That's from the ranch," Tanya said.
When the ultralight turned, I saw that the pilot wore a helmet with odd protuberances. He circled our hiding place once before tossing a package overboard.
The package contained a note and a two way radio.
"You win," said the note. "Take it easy and enjoy yourself while the rest of us catch up."
We pushed the pace until we were about a mile from the pickup point. We then caught up on our sleep.
It was early afternoon when Tanya, myself and I decided to go swimming in a nearby pond.
We had been splashing around for about half an hour when we were joined by a pair of hikers. Scruffy types, both male. I was standing in deep water so my equine body was hidden.
"Well hello," one of the hikers said, leering at Tanya.
The other one pulled out an automatic. "If you don't cooperate, you're dead," he rumbled.
"What do you want?" I asked, mentally kicking myself for not setting a guard.
"Her for starters," said the man with the gun.
That's when I realized that Tanya was still topless from yesterday.
I flicked my ears forward. The movement caught their attention.
"If you do that, you'll end up like me," I said, turning slightly and running my fingers through my mane. "I used to be a man until that woman transformed me into a mare."
I flicked my ears for emphasis.
Their eyes widened. "You're crazy," said the man with the gun.
"He's telling the truth," my son interrupted. "I used to be a girl before she changed me."
"I'll change you back after you take my sister to the Junior Prom," Tanya said with the right rough of menace.
"But I wanted to go to the prom with Steve," my son complained.
"Silence," commanded Tanya.
My son grabbed his throat and acted like he was having problems talking. He than rolled his eyes, shook his head and sat down in the water.
"I'd leave while I still can," I warned. "If you wait until she shows some tail, you're doomed."
"Show them some tail, Misty dear," Tanya said, her voice smug.
"I can't," I said. "I don't think they want us to make any sudden movements."
"Let this little filly get out of the pond so you can see the extent of my power," Tanya said. "Then decide if you wish to have ME."
Tanya's emphasis sent chills down my spines. Both low lives caught the implied threat.
The man with the gun tapped the bank of the pond with his foot. "Come up to this spot and stop," he said, pointing the gun at me. "No funny stuff," he warned.
"No funny stuff," I agreed as I wadded toward the spot.
Both men swore when my equine body started to surface. I paused, ears forward.
"Keep moving sweety," said the man with the gun.
"Hmmf," I responded primly. I then slogged ashore, trying to be as proper as possible under the circumstances.
"The 'Zookeeper' will want this one for his collection," said the gunless man.
I stood on the preagreed spot and went into what I call my 'sexy single centaurette' pose.
"Show me how you're hung, big boy," I said, catching the eye of the gunman as I cocked my tail to the side.
Noises in the underbrush diverted their attention. Gunless pulled out a gun and became gunner number two.
"That's probably Steve and his friend Bob," I said, making an educated guess of the identity of the approaching bodies. There were two and a half bodies if you counted the legs and divided by four. The half body was being very canny about her approach.
Steve, aka Pearl, was the first to appear. Bob was right behind.
"Have your two done what I told you to do?" Tanya asked.
Both men tenses as the pony nodded its head.
"Good," continued Tanya. "I have one more..."
BLAMM!!!
A Hawkins from a range of twenty meters fires a man killing lead slug that will just ruin your day. The slug threw Gunner Number One into the pond.
Pearl then locked her teeth on Gunner Number Two's wrist, forcing him to drop his gun. At the same time Anemone turned and kicked him in the groin. While he was bent over in pain, I grabbed his gun and slugged him in the face. He went down like a rock.
"You two grab and search him," I said, pointing at Gunner Number One. "My wife and I will deal with this other creep."
My wife appeared, a beardless mountain man with a long black rifle.
"I called for help," my wife said, touching the two way radio.
Help phase one arrived on fabric wings. The ultralight overflew the pond while we strip searched the two gunmen. He, or she, threw down a roll of duct tape.
Minutes later the cavalry arrived in force, with appropriate supplies and more than a little rage. I had a feeling that the gun toting scum were going to get worked over before being handed over to the police. Gunner Number One might wish that the slug from the Hawkins had killed him, rather than hit the metal medallion that had saved his life.
Then I realized that there was a problem reporting the crime. Tanya and I were not fit for a trial and my son's testimony would open up a big can of worms.
"Slug him once for Tanya," I said before I wandered away.
When the gunners were patched up, four of the trackers hauled them away, dragging them behind their horses.
'Nurse' rode up a few minutes later. "Is everybody okay?" she asked.
"We're fine," my wife asked. "How about you Tanya?"
"I think I'm going to like living with you guys," Tanya said. "You're something else entirely."
"Good," said 'Nurse.' "We packed your stuff in the trailer just in case." She paused a moment and took off the flannel shirt she wore as a light jacket. "You might want to put this on dear," she said, handing Tanya the shirt. "Some of the hands are easily embarrassed."
Tanya blushed but put the shirt on. Out of the corner of my eye I could tell that my son was relieved.
Saying good bye took a while because Tanya was popular and her friends had a lot of gifts to give her. At the same time my wife, my son and I were busy shaking hands, collecting bets and showing the proper way to throw a tomahawk.
My equine ears overheard one of the trackers saying that he felt better about being taken out by a padded tomahawk, seeing the damage the real thing could do when thrown by a teenager and a middle aged woman.
Eventually we headed to the pickup point, a small ranch house near the main road. There my daughters were pushing a little girl on a rope swing. The trailer was set up for a fast load, all the doors open and the ramps down.
The little girl shouted "Mommy," jumped off the swing and ran to Tanya. She jabbered about everything they did while Mommy was gone.
"How did it go?" my wife asked my daughters while we watched the reunion.
"Shanna is a good kid," my youngest daughter said. "What's her mother like?"
"Good underneath," I said. "She just needs a little TLC."
"How are you doing?" my eldest daughter asked.
"I could use a vacation from this vacation," I sighed.
Twenty minutes later we were on the road headed for home. I was starting to doze off when we hit the road block.
"What's up?" my wife asked over the intercom.
"Two things," replied my eldest daughter. "First, the state patrolman would like to search the trailer for a pair of ex-cons. Second, a guy named Al would like to speak to Misty and Tanya."
"Send him back," my wife said.
I hid under a blanket. Somebody knocked on the trailer door, asking to enter in an officious voice. My wife opened the door and somebody stepped inside.
"Hi Tanya," said the voice in a much less official tone. "Running away from home again?"
"Not this time," Tanya said. "I'm going into this with both eyes open and my legs crossed tight."
"Good. I don't want to find you by the side of the road again. It gets depressing."
"You won't," said Tanya. "You have my word on it."
"Good," said the officer. "But in the event you have to do some traveling, I have a bit of pocket cash here. A good friend of mine had the inside track on an investment that paid off much better than expected."
"Oh ... my," said Tanya in a subdued voice. "Thanks Officer Al."
"You deserve it kid," said the officer, his voice wavering a hair.
Then he cleared his throat. "Now for the other item of business. You wouldn't have happened to have SEEN two ex-cons, wanted for assault, robbery, attempted rape and a whole bunch of other things?"
There was a brief pause. "Have you tried that abandoned cabin about five miles from here?" Tanya said. "The one you found me at the first time?"
"An EXCELLENT point," said the officer. "I'll have some men check it out again."
He started to head for the door. He then paused. "By the way, where is Misty?"
From the angle of his voice, he was standing about six inches from my hooves.
I pulled back the blanket slowly. "I'm hiding," I said, looking as wide eyed as I could.
The officer raised an eyebrow and said my real name.
I got to my feet. "Inside track indeed," I said. "How long have you known?"
Officer Al, a friend of the family from way back, grinned. "Trade secret. I put two and two together, added in some external intelligence and decided that the only person that Misty could be was you. Of course, I hedged my bets until I saw your rig in the area with Shanna."
"You know these people?" Tanya asked.
Officer Al grinned. "I thought that I might know them," he began. "When enough evidence came in I figured that a friendly wager might be appropriate."
"Al's like my wife," I said. "He doesn't gamble. He just bets on sure things."
"It was a slight gamble," Officer Al said. "But the crew at the ranch didn't know Misty and her family like I did. And I figured that they would be too sure of themselves the first day and make mistakes."
"Bill said that they were overconfident," Tanya said. "I could see that they really wanted a rematch to show what they could do."
"I could have told them not to take the bet," Officer Al said, laughing. "When Misty's wife places a bet on something, it isn't a gamble. You should have heard the complaints last night when they discovered you were gone. It was all I could do to keep from saying 'I told you so.'"
"We pulled a trick like that on Al once before," I explained. "It works when they don't expect it."
"Do the unexpected," said Officer Al. "Keep that in mind if you have to escape, Tanya. And remember that you have friends in Montana too."
Officer Al looked me over, shaking his head. "I'll have to come by for a visit some time," he said. "Til later."
"Later," I agreed, stepping back into the shadows.
Officer Al headed out the door, taking care to not open it much.
"A small world, isn't it," said Tanya.
"Sometimes," I agreed, yawning.
I laid back down and slept all the way home.
***
I hope you found this interesting. Some of the names have been changes to protect the innocent and the guilty.
Misty
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