Danny shifted his eyes to the vice president and was surprised to see the man’s eyes wide open and focused on him. A few minutes later, the man above Danny began snoring. The vice president looked from Danny to the man on the cot, then back to Danny and slowly nodded. The flickering lamp now posed the bigger problem. He couldn’t put it out with the man snoring. The soldiers just outside would probably notice that. Nor could he emerge from under the cot and approach the vice president without the light revealing his shadow to the men around the fire. Danny took a breath and waited for a particularly deep snore before poking the man hard in the side. He made a snorting noise, the snoring stopped, and there was silence for a second. The vice president nodded again, and Danny turned the knob on the lamp, shutting it off.
The guys outside said something, presumably directed at the man on the cot. As expected, the lamp going off had caught their attention. Danny held his breath. This was the moment of truth. The man on the cot didn’t reply, but he shifted and farted again. The men around the fire laughed and went back to talking, and the man above Danny gradually returned to his snoring. Danny slowly released the breath he’d been holding and cautiously moved the lamp aside, careful not to knock it over. He slid out from under the cot. Inch by inch he slid across the floor to the vice president and raised himself up beside the man. When he got to the man’s ear he whispered, “I’m here sir. What would you like me to do?”
He moved his head in front of the man’s mouth and the vice president replied softly, “You have to leave me and find my daughter.”
Danny paused a few seconds to make sure nothing around them had changed and then whispered back, “We have her, sir.”
The vice president turned his head sharply, surprise spreading across his face, and then he seemed to realize who Danny was talking about and shook his head. “Not Reagan. But thank God you have her… I meant my little girl, Abbey. I came here last night and took her to the Stanley Hotel.” He was wheezing and wincing with each deep breath. His face was bruised and bloody.
So it was him in that first jeep. Danny thought. He had come for his daughters, Reagan and Abbey.
“Are you sick, or shot?” Danny asked, trying to determine the primary source of the VP’s physical pain.
“Shot,” he replied, before redirecting the conversation back to the Stanley Hotel. “I took Abbey in the front door of the hotel but you can’t. It’s lit up. Way too bright. They could be watching it. You have to find another way in, a side staircase in the dark somewhere. There is a supply closet in the basement with a ladder…” He stopped as the men outside had stopped talking suddenly and seemed to be especially silent. The man on the cot was still snoring.
A couple minutes later the men continued their conversation, and Danny put his mouth to the vice president’s ear. “I got it. But what am I supposed to do about you, sir?” He had a feeling he knew the answer.
“Leave me,” he replied. “Save my little girl. If you try to take me, neither of us will make it. If you kill me, they’ll know you were here.” He was right, of course, but Danny hated it. “You must save my little girl.”
“Okay,” Danny whispered back. “You’re a brave and honorable man, sir.”
“I’m not,” he shook his head slightly. “Remember this number. A76845B940. And if you make it to Hawaii, ask the governor for the Elephant’s Box.” Danny took the mental notes he needed, wrote the number on his forearm with a Sharpie from his pocket, and tapped the vice president’s knee twice to show he had the number down. Danny then pulled a syringe from inside his uniform. The VP recognized it as morphine. “Where?” Danny asked.
“Lower right ribs,” he replied. Danny gave him the shot. “Thank you, young man,” the vice president whispered.
Danny nodded. “Anything else?”
“Take care of my girls.” He grabbed Danny’s sleeve. “And tell them I love them.”
Danny was close enough to the vice president to hear his tears hit the tarp floor. Danny took a small sharp object out of his own pocket and squeezed it into the man’s hand. Moore was ex-Special Forces, he knew what Danny had given him. With one final squeeze of the VP’s hand, Danny dropped flat to the floor. Danny slowly backed out the cut he’d made as the vice president coughed, and the men around the fire out front yelled at him. It was all Danny needed to get away clean.
He made it back to Cameron a few minutes before five. It was snowing heavily again, which worked with the darkness to help them move more easily. They retreated through the elk that were starting to get up and move around. They weren’t as keen on being disturbed this time. The boys moved quickly through them.
Blake and I watched them come all the way back without the vice president. They passed under the bridge below us and cut upstream until they disappeared around the corner again. We climbed down the rope, slid across the ledge, and crawled down the tunnel to let them in.
As they entered, it was easy to tell Danny wasn’t happy. My dad came out to join us. “We know who the driver of that jeep was last night,” Cameron said. “And we know where Reagan’s sister is,” he added before anyone could say anything.
“At the camp?” Dad asked.
“No,” Danny said, shaking out of his wet clothes. “She’s at the Stanley Hotel. Her dad took her there last night.”
“How—” Dad replied.
“The jeep?” Blake cut in, putting two and two together for us all.
“Yes,” Danny nodded.
“She’s there alone?” I asked.
The boys nodded. “If I read him right, he took her there and then led the troops as far away from her as possible before giving himself up,” Danny explained.
“So you talked to the vice president?” Dad redirected.
“I did,” Danny replied.
“And?” We all wanted to know more, but Danny was focused on something else.
“I need to talk to Reagan,” he said.
“I’ll have Tara get her up,” I volunteered. I went inside and knelt beside Tara. I wanted to just watch her sleep. Instead, I kissed her on the lips and she opened one eye, then the other. Then she propped herself up onto her elbows. Admittedly I was a little distracted by her shirt. Or what was under it.
“Hey now,” Tara redirected my hand and attention.
“Sorry,” I smiled. Not really.
“Are they back?” she asked tiredly, trying to focus.
“Yes. Can you get Reagan up?” I whispered. She leaned in for another kiss and then nodded. I went back out to the main room, and she brought Reagan out a minute later.
“Did you find my Dad?” Reagan wanted to know immediately. “Where is he? Why isn’t he here?”
Danny held up both his hands. “Reagan… easy. Okay? Yes, I found your dad.” He met her in the middle of the room. I couldn’t read anything from his facial expression. “I’m going to be honest with you. Okay?” That didn’t sound good.
She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and said, “Okay.”
Danny reached out awkwardly to take Reagan’s hand, but Tara quickly pushed his away and took Reagan’s hand herself. “He’s not well,” Danny began quietly. “He was bloody, bruised, and really weak. He’s been shot at least once.” Reagan reopened her eyes as Danny continued. “If I had to guess it happened last night when he came to get you and your sister.” That would explain the gunfire we’d heard before the jeeps raced past.