75: Elves to the Rescue

The Elves were halfway across the field and in sight of the line of pine trees that marked the road to the grotto when they saw someone approaching. By now the storm had passed them, heading toward the Yukon Flats and eventually into Canada.

"It’s Finda," Finrod exclaimed.

They came to a halt and waited for the younger ellon to reach them. Finrod opened his arms to his son, who fell into his embrace.

"Are you well, my child?" Finrod said softly in Sindarin.

"Yes, Ada," Findalaurë said in the same language, "but I fear it is not well with the Mortals."

"What do you mean?" Glorfindel asked. "Where are they and where are Cal and Alan?"

"We reached the grotto in spite of the storm," Findalaurë explained. "Alex...." He gave them a look of grief. "I do not think he is Alex anymore."

"You mean Artemus," Vorondur said and the ellon nodded. Vorondur shrugged. "It stands to reason that under these circumstances he would revert to Artemus, utilizing the skills and knowledge he has garnered as a spy to help him and his friends to escape. Is that what he did?"

Findalaurë nodded.

"Tell us what has happened, Finda," Finrod said.

"We reached the grotto. Alex was not sure if it was empty. There should’ve been people there, he kept telling us, waiting for the tours, but the torches were as yet unlit. My gwedyr and I could sense nothing." He gave them an embarrassed look. "We... we are not proficient in sensing evil else I think we would have known not to enter the van."

"It is a talent that not all have," Finrod said soothingly. "I was pleased when I sensed your mind seeking mine, for it is not something you have ever shown a talent for before this, but I rather think it is because need drove you. That you were able to reach me through ósanwë and at that distance is a wonder to me."

"Calandil and Elennen helped," Findalaurë said shyly.

"As is only meet," Valandur said, "even as I and Laurendil lent our strength to your adar so he might remain in contact with you."

"So what happened," Glorfindel asked somewhat impatiently, "and why are you alone?"

"Alex was the first to enter the grotto with Derek and Zach right behind him," the younger ellon explained. "I was about to enter when I heard the Man Farrell’s voice. My gwedyr and I decided to remain outside, to wait and see what might transpire. We could not make out much of what was being said, for the stone of the grotto blocked the voices and we only heard snatches of the conversation, but then... then we heard screaming." He gulped, looking distraught, and Finrod held him closer. The other Elves looked grim at the implications of his words.

"Is that when you decided to look for help?" Finrod asked his son gently, divining why they had found him heading back to the farm.

Findalaurë nodded. "Calandil and Elennen said they would remain to keep an eye on the grotto. We looked for another entrance, but found none. We did find the mode of transport that Farrell used to bring him and the other Men to the grotto. We did what Derek did with the van and let the air out of the tires. They will not be able to use it to escape."

"Good lad," Amroth said with an approving smile.

"So, what’s the plan?" Elrohir asked, looking at Glorfindel.

"The plan is to rescue our friends," Glorfindel replied.

"Yes, but how?" Finrod asked. "Finda just said that they found no other way in and from what you have said in describing this grotto, the entrance is designed so only one person at a time can enter."

"There is another way in," Glorfindel announced. "Come. Let us go and I will show you." With that, he set off and the others followed with Findalaurë answering Finrod’s questions about how they had escaped from the farm.

"It is as Fred and Ellen said," Elrohir commented when Findalaurë finished his account.

"They are well?" the younger ellon asked.

"Yes, they were just fine when we left them," Glorfindel assured him. "This way," he added, pointing to the right so that they angled more to the south. "We’ll approach from the other side. Finda, go to your gwedyr and bring them along the road. Dan, go with him and show them the way."

Elladan nodded and together, he and Findalaurë loped away in a more easterly direction while the others continued to follow Glorfindel. "The grotto is man-made," he explained to Finrod and the other Elves who were unfamiliar with it, "though it looks real and very natural to its environment. There is an access road that cuts behind the grotto from this side of the road heading toward Wiseman. Those who man the grotto use it to bring in supplies."

"How does that help us?" Finrod asked.

"Wait and see," was all Glorfindel said and they had to be content with that. In minutes they reached the line of pine trees bordering the road and waited for Elladan to return with the younger ellyn. "The entrance to the access road is not obvious and is well hidden even where it reaches the grotto," he continued to explain, "so I am not surprised that your son did not see it when he and the other two went exploring for another entrance."

"Here they come," Mithlas said, having kept an eye on the road.

"Good," Glorfindel said. "Follow me and I will show you the secret to Santa’s success." He grinned at that as he led them further up the road.

****

Farrell stared at Artemus in disbelief. "Are you telling me that in all these weeks you’ve been here you haven’t learned the real purpose of this stupid academy?"

"I told you, as far as I have been able to determine, Elf Academy is legit. It is designed solely for the purpose of training people to be tour guides, in particular to be tour guides during the holiday season, acting as Santa’s Elves. It’s a gimmick, nothing more. Everyone gets a supposedly Elvish name — mine is Elurín, by the way." He smiled at the nonplused expression on Farrell’s face. "And then we spout a few Elvish-sounding sentences in greeting and everyone has a good time."

"Then what in blue blazes is Elwood doing here?" Farrell nearly screamed in frustration. "That bastard disappeared and everyone assumed he was dead, though I always had my doubts. And now...."

"And why would you have any doubts?" Artemus demanded. "What was Elwood to you, Farrell? As far as I know, you two never met."

Farrell snarled. "I’m the one asking questions, Meriwether, not you. What Elwood may or may not be to me is my business. I want to know why, after fifteen years, he suddenly shows up again at this academy of all places. Where the hell was he hiding all those years and why did he come out of hiding when he did?"

"I’m telling you, Farrell, Ryan McKinley is no more Ambrose Elwood than I’m the tooth fairy. Yeah, I know he could be his twin brother, but think. Elwood died fifteen years ago. Don’t you think if McKinley were Elwood that he would’ve aged a bit?"

"You only knew Elwood for a couple of years before he disappeared," Farrell said. "I knew him for much longer and I’m telling you that McKinley is Elwood and nothing you say to the contrary will convince me otherwise. Now, let’s get down to business. You have that termination order...."

"Which is a fake," Artemus said with a sneer. "I checked the signature. It was close, but not close enough. Maddy never signed that order and by now she’s received all the documentation I was able to garner about Ryan McKinley, including fingerprints, and I’m pretty sure they won’t match up with the ones on file for Elwood."

"Regardless, the termination order stands," Farrell said with a wave of a hand in dismissal.

"How can you say that? It’s a fake."

"Because I say it stands," Farrell shouted banging his fist on the arm of Santa’s throne, then leaning forward and pointing a finger at Artemus. "And you’re going to carry out that order."

"Why are you so obsessed about seeing McKinley dead and why are you too much of a coward to do it yourself?"

Grieve, who was standing behind Artemus, hit him viciously on the back of the head and would have hit him a second time but Farrell raised a hand to stop him. "Don’t think I wouldn’t love to waste the bastard," Farrell said after a moment while Artemus blinked away the darkness threatening to engulf him, "but I could never get close enough."

"So use a long-range rifle," Artemus suggested, attempting a nonchalant shrug in spite of the ropes.

"Too easy, and I want him to know the pain of betrayal when his friend and prized pupil pulls the trigger. That would be you, by the way, in case you were wondering."

"I won’t do it," Artemus said categorically.

"Not even to save your two friends?" Farrell enquired, giving him an evil grin. "I can make it very unpleasant for them and they won’t die easily or quickly. Save yourself some grief. What’s Elwood to you anyway? He betrayed you when he faked his own death."

"And I’m telling you that McKinley is not Elwood and I won’t kill a man just because you’re obsessed with getting revenge on a man who died fifteen years ago. I don’t know what Elwood did to you to make you so rabid and I don’t care…."

"He killed my…." Farrell started to shout, leaping from the chair, then stopping before he went any further. He was breathing heavily and Artemus watched with a clinical eye as the man struggled for control. "I know McKinley and Elwood are one and the same man," Farrell said softly, almost to himself, as he resumed his seat, "and I know why he hasn’t aged in all these years."

Artemus raised an eyebrow but did not comment. He was beginning to put two and two together. Amroth had assured him that all files which Samuel Bradford had kept on him were destroyed, but what if Bradford had confided in another? What if he did not limit himself merely to documents that could be lost, stolen or destroyed? Amroth, when he interrogated Bradford, may not have thought to ask if the man had simply told another person about him. He wondered idly what his former mentor would’ve done if he had learned that Bradford had ‘spilled the beans’ to another. Apparently that ‘other’ was Farrell and if he knew the truth about Amroth….

"Who was Bradford to you?" he asked suddenly, playing a hunch, and noticed Farrell paling, his lips tight and his free hand balled in a fist, while the other hand that held the gun shook slightly. "Father, uncle, cousin… lover?"

Farrell stood up and stepped down from the dais until he was standing in front of Artemus who glared at him calmly. Then Farrell raised the gun and pistol-whipped him across the face, causing blood to spurt from his nose.

"You have no right," Farrell snarled. "You think you know everything, but you don’t. You don’t know jack. Samuel Bradford was a good man and he didn’t deserve to die as he did. Oh yes, it took me years to discover the truth about his disappearance, but in the end, I knew Elwood was responsible. While I had no concrete proof that he was even alive, I half suspected that he was. His showing up here in Alaska was a godsend. When I learned about you coming here, I made damn sure I was on the team. Elwood isn’t going to escape this time. This time, he pays for what he did."

Artemus was about to comment, when Pegg, who had ducked outside to check on the storm, came back in. "Hey, storm seems to be over," he said. "The snow’s stopped and the sky is clearing."

Farrell nodded, never taking his eyes off Artemus, who sat there with his head tipped back to keep the blood from dripping. "Armstrong, you and Pegg go bring our hostages. Grieve, go bring the truck. We’re all going back to Wiseman. Meriwether has something he needs to do."

The other three agents grinned evilly at that and they went to carry out Farrell’s orders, but Grieve stopped as Armstrong, who’d gone behind the screen, gave a shout. "Hey, where did they go?"

Farrell looked up in anger. "What are you babbling about? Just bring them."

"They’re not here," Armstrong retorted and then he was pushing the folding screen back so they could see. The space behind the screen was empty. Derek and Zach were no longer there.

"That’s impossible," Farrell exclaimed as he went to get a closer look. "There’s nowhere they could’ve gone."

"Yeah, well, tell that to them," Pegg replied sarcastically and no one had an answer to that as they all, including Artemus, stared at the empty room, wondering where two men who had been tied up and left unconscious had disappeared to and how.

****

Glorfindel brought them into an open area and stopped, pointing north. "The grotto is about two hundred paces in that direction. The other entrance is over here." He continued northeastward until he came to where the ground swelled into a small cliff, barely twenty feet in height, which blocked their way. Set within the face of the cliff was a wooden door. Glorfindel continued with his explanation as he opened it. "When they built the grotto, the engineers created a tunnel that connects this access road to the grotto, allowing people to bring in supplies without having to use the main entrance and spoil things. The door at the other end is cleverly disguised as a stone wall."

They all peered inside, noticing that the tunnel was lined with bricks and LED lights were strung near the ceiling, offering them adequate illumination. Glorfindel turned to look at the others. "Dan, you, Roy and Mithlas go back to the main entrance and make sure no one escapes that way. Take these three with you as well." He nodded to Findalaurë, Calandil and Elennen. "They’re the only ones unarmed. I think they’ll be safer with you in the trees than with us."

The three ellyn were obviously unhappy with this and Findalaurë looked as if he would protest, but Finrod forestalled him. "Go, my children, and be obedient to the sons of Elrond, for they are your elder cousins and I have no doubt they are very knowledgeable about setting up ambushes."

Elladan nodded. "Come," he said to the three ellyn. "Roy and I will show you how to set up an ambush in such a way as to force the enemy to go in the direction you desire rather than the one he wishes."

After a moment’s hesitation, the three complied and they followed the Twins who didn’t bother with the road but headed straight north through the woods. Mithlas trailed them, turning to wave cheerfully at the others before fading silently into the woods.

In the meantime, Glorfindel was issuing other orders. "We have no idea what we will find once we reach the grotto and this tunnel is not wide. I want half of you to remain within the tunnel spaced out while the rest of us go and see what is happening. If you hear me whistle so," and here he made the sound of a thrush, "come as quickly as you can with bows at the ready."

"There are seven of us," Amroth said. "Three should go with you and the others should wait in the tunnel as you suggest. I will go with you, for Alex, or rather, Artemus is as a son to me. Let the others decide as they will."

In the end, Vorondur, smiling, suggested a simple children’s game to decide who would go, and at Glorfindel’s nod, he instructed the others to stand in a circle with their right fists out. Then he proceeded to chant:

"Eeny, meany, miney, moe, catch an Elf-lord by his toe, if he hollers, let him go, eeny, meany, miney, moe. You’re out," he said to Legolas, shooing him out of the circle and the ellon complied, looking rather bemused. Glorfindel and Amroth exchanged knowing looks and there was much eye-rolling and quiet snickering between them as Vorondur continued the game. Finrod merely looked on with interest. Eventually, only he and Laurendil remained, and it was decided they would go with Glorfindel, Finrod and Amroth, while the others remained in the tunnel.

"A most interesting way of choosing who will go and who will stay," Finrod remarked nonchalantly as they entered the tunnel.

Vorondur grinned. "Well, arm wrestling also works but this way was faster." Everyone chuckled at that.

They moved silently and swiftly down the tunnel which curved to the left, heading north until they came to another door. Glorfindel whispered something to Amroth, who nodded, and the ellon went back up the tunnel and began switching off the lights, plunging this part of the tunnel into darkness, though the lights further up the tunnel gave them enough illumination to see by. When he returned, Glorfindel quietly and slowly opened the door a bit, putting an ear to the crack, and listened. Then he nodded, satisfied that the voices he heard were on the other side of the screens. He eased the door open a bit more and slipped through with the others right behind him, his eyes searching the area, spying the two figures huddled on a couple of cots along one wall, recognizing Derek and Zach. He grimaced as he saw the dark bruises on their faces and Zach looked as if he had blood caked along the hairline. Both were unconscious.

Vorondur and Laurendil went immediately to the Mortals, checking their vitals. Glorfindel gestured at them and they nodded. Vorondur placed a hand over Derek’s mouth while Laurendil did the same with Zach. Derek’s eyes opened almost immediately and Vorondur placed a finger to his lips. Derek nodded and Vorondur removed his hand, bending over to untie the Mortal. Zach, however, never stirred, and Laurendil gave Glorfindel a worried look.

"Don’t bother untying him," Glorfindel whispered. "Just get him outside."

Laurendil nodded and easily lifted the unconscious Man into his arms and headed back into the tunnel while Vorondur helped Derek to his feet and when the Man started to collapse, lifted him up and carried him out. In minutes, the two Elves were back, assuring Glorfindel that Legolas had agreed to watch over them. "Zach was beginning to stir as I brought him outside," Laurendil said and Glorfindel gave him a relieved smile.

All this time, Amroth and Finrod had been standing by the screens, listening to the conversation on the other side. When they heard Farrell order two of his men to bring Derek and Zach, Amroth motioned for everyone to get back into the tunnel. Glorfindel nodded, understanding what the Elf intended, and even before Armstrong came around the screen, they were all back in the tunnel. Glorfindel did not close the door all the way, but left it slightly open to better hear what was being said. He cast an amused look back at Finrod and the others as they heard the Mortals exclaiming in surprise as they realized their prisoners were no longer there.

****

Farrell turned back to Artemus, giving him a snarl. "Where did they go?" he demanded.

"How the hell should I know?" Artemus shot back, giving him a smirk. "You need to keep a better eye on your prisoners, Farrell. You keep losing them with remarkable regularity."

Farrell raised his hand to pistol-whip him again, but Artemus never gave him a chance. While it was true that he’d been tied up by an expert, he’d been studying yoga for the last ten years and knew how to tighten chest, arm and leg muscles without making it obvious, so when he relaxed those muscles, the ropes weren’t as tight as they could have been, though a cursory examination would not reveal this. Now, with the other men off-balanced, he made his move.

He leaned as far forward as he could, pushing up with his feet and then shoving his head into Farrell’s midsection, forcing the man back until his heels hit the edge of the dais and he fell, giving a yell as he knocked his head against the throne. Artemus rolled to his left attempting to stay out of the line of fire as the other three agents turned, their guns up ready to shoot.

Even as he fell to the floor, still rolling with the chair on top of him, trying to loosen his arms from their bonds, there was a shout that sounded vaguely Sindarin to his ears and then all hell broke loose.