Carter's Fortress - 16. Chapter 16

Steady, he thought to himself, keep still or you'll scare him away.

He reached up to cock the hammer back on the shotgun, keeping his breathing still and steady just as he had been taught to do so many years before. One shot, one kill; those words rang in his head clearly as if the old major was standing behind him giving him instructions.

He was trying not to think of everything that had happened the night before. Andrew and the kiss. What it meant and what it changed in his life. He was confused by it, and the more he dwelled upon it, the more anxious he became.

Concentrate, he admonished himself as he eased his finger back around the trigger, keeping the weapon snug against his shoulder as it tracked his target; a few feet closer and it was his. Just a couple of feet and he would get it, cleanly.

He ran his tongue over parched lips, suppressing an urge to cough as he fought for the discipline it took to hunt. It was almost Zen, except for the fact that he was preparing to extinguish a life and prove something once and for all. The more he reflected on it, the less and less Zen it sounded.

He stuffed the thought away as he focused on the rabbit.

"Come on, thumper..." Will growled too low to be heard, "eat the carrot..."

He adjusted his grip on the shotgun stock, flexing cramping fingers. He could take the shot now... test his luck...

"Be sure of the shot, boy," the old major's voice reminded him. "Don't fire until you know you can hit the target."

Suddenly Will had a whole new appreciation for the hunters down in the States who took M-16's out into the woods. At least they'd have some chance of hitting something. He had only one shot at this, and if it screwed up that was an entire morning of waiting down the tube.

The rabbit hopped a few feet closer, and Will grinned as he knew he had the shot. His finger tightened around the trigger...

"Hey Will!" the voice called out from behind him.

Will jumped as the shotgun went off, showering leaves down from the trees onto the ground where the rabbit had been only moments earlier. Thumper had survived by an act of God, or more aptly, an act of Marc.

Will turned with a grumpy expression on his face as he broke open the shotgun to remove the empty shell. He stared in frustration at the young man who had snuck up on him in the woods, preparing to say something to him... but a flash of guilt weighed him down and he stopped himself.

Marc grinned that half-smile of his as he lifted his camera and flashed a picture of the great white hunter. He looked silly in the bright orange ball cap and vest over his sweatshirt and jeans, but they were out in rural Ontario in the middle of hunting season, it wasn't smart to be out without them.

"Did you get anything?" he asked, the glint in his eye saying he knew exactly how close Will had been to actually getting something.

Will couldn't blame him. They had radically different opinions on the whole hunting issue. Will enjoyed it and thought it a natural part of life in Canada, not that he was any good at it. And Marc thought it was barbaric.

"Oh, you should have seen the rabbit that got away," he said, making a gesture with his hands.

"Sure," Marc replied with a grin as he tucked his hair under the cap. "Well, I got a ton of photos for my portfolio," he wound the film on a bit as he talked.

Will shrugged and tucked the shotgun over his arm, its breach still open and safety on. He was one of those people fanatical about firearm safety; it had been drummed into him at an early age by his father after a rather abortive shooting lesson where Will had nearly blown both their heads off.

The major's face after that was a memory Will would probably never forget; it was, after all, the only time he had ever seen his father scared.

"Hey, look at that!" Marc said, holding a hand out to stop Will in his tracks. There in the middle of the track, eating the carrot, Thumper was sitting mocking Will with a twitch of its nose.

Marc lifted the camera and took a picture, and Will contemplated reloading the shotgun and having rabbit stew back at the cabin that night; but if anything he was a sportsman, and the rabbit had beaten him fair and square. He shrugged and kept walking, Marc taking another picture and throwing a secret thumbs-up to the bold rabbit.

They climbed the track, emerging at the foot of several acres of snow-covered farmland leading up to the large ski lodge that backed onto the river. Will coughed a little as he pushed open the door to the lodge and put the firearm away, Marc already heading to the small kitchen to fix himself something to eat.

A year of healthy eating had filled Marc out; he was still short, but he was developing into a well-defined young man. His dirty brown hair was shorter; that had taken a lot of convincing on Will's part as well as a compromise where Will had to let Marc choose his next hairstyle. A fate that so far Will had managed to dodge.

Will wandered through the spacious cottage, slipping out of his hunting vest and the camouflage jacket. The British DPM camouflage jacket, which was nice, warm and durable, was a prized acquisition from an army surplus store in Toronto. He collapsed onto the couch and sighed, contemplating taking a long shower to get the grime of a morning in the backwoods off of his skin.

Peter was sitting on the couch, a game boy open on his laps, listening to it with headphones; he barely looked up from the game more than to smile at Will before he went back to it. And Will wondered what it would take to draw Peter out of his shell and get him interacting with the real world instead of hiding from it.

He stared in open disgust as the cell phone on the coffee table began to vibrate ominously. He'd been on vacation no more than about eighteen hours and already it seemed that the phone had rung continuously.

He had tried to ignore it the night before, but all that had done was make Alicia more persistent. The last time he had ignored the phone, Lisa had received a call and relayed the message to him to call in to work. Nothing like the guilt of waking up a mother who valued every minute of sleep she could get with a two-year-old around.

He picked up the sleek phone and flipped it open. "Yes?" he answered testily.

"He's in hospital," Alicia's emotion-laden voice spilled in a rush. "This morning..."

"Slow down," Will said standing up as he spoke into the phone already walking to the door to Lisa's room and knocking on it heavily. "Start at the beginning, who's in hospital."

Lisa, bleary-eyed and slipping on a flannel robe looked at him in concern when she heard him ask the question.

"Robert... the minister...this morning..." Alicia was in tears.

"I need you to calm down," Will repeated in a soft tone looking behind him to where Marc was piling lettuce onto a huge sandwich. Boy could eat when he was hungry. "Why is Robert in hospital, what happened?"

"Oh my god!" Lisa exclaimed, already hurrying back into her room and grabbing clothes from her suitcase.

"The hospital called this morning; he..." she sniffed and drew a ragged breath, "he had a heart attack."

Will paused on the phone walking to the window and looking out at his Jeep; it was only a couple of hours to Ottawa and with a few phone calls on the way Lisa could probably arrange something for the papers. In his mind he was already plotting the trip back.

The sound of the fridge door rattling behind him caused him to turn and remember that this wasn't just his vacation. "Ali, I..."

Marc looked up, a question in his eyes and the manly sandwich in his hands momentarily forgotten. "What's up?" he asked. "Someone forgot your password again?" Marc asked shaking his head. "Or is it office stationery this time?"

Will lowered the phone and covered the receiver, "My boss has had a heart attack..."

"Oh." Marc's face grew alarmed, "He okay?"

"Yes, but we need to get back to Ottawa," Will replied.

Marc nodded, "Ok, I'll go pack our stuff, you work everything out." He set the sandwich down, took a step before pausing to pick it up again and taking it with him as he went through to the bedroom.

Will walked back to the window, wondering what he could say to this. His mind was in a hundred different places all at once and it was definitely not what he needed. Robert Avery had yet to name a Deputy Minister of Heritage, and with no right hand there was going to be a serious crisis in the Heritage department. Not just that, but the government would lose its majority for as long as Robert was incapacitated.

His own personal concerns for his friend and mentor were also forefront in his mind. Robert, that indestructible giant of a man, had been hospitalized.

"Is he okay, Ali?" he asked quietly.

"He's conscious," Alicia said between her own sobs, "but he wants to see you, Will."

Will nodded, walking through to his bedroom and selecting some clean clothes. He grabbed a towel knowing that he needed a shower, especially if he was going to a hospital; he just needed to get underway.

"All right," he said into the phone as he began to change. "Tell Robert I am on my way."

"Okay," Alicia sounded relieved. "Drive safely and I'll see you when you get here."

Will clicked off the phone and tossed it on the bed. Rushing into the small bathroom and getting clean as quickly as he could as he emerged and put on a thin cotton shirt and black slacks. He pulled the same tie he had worn the night before.

With a long sigh, he threw open the front door and went out to bring the Jeep around. It would be easier to load that way. He opened the back just as Marc emerged from the house, the short young man handing bags to him to load into the back.

Marc offered a reassuring smile to him as he wandered back inside hefting a backpack and picking up another bag. Lisa added a few of her things to the Jeep as well. It was a quick decision: Will and Lisa were to go first in the Jeep, it had better traction and could get them to the hospital faster; everyone else was to follow behind in the other cars. It would also allow Will and Lisa to put their heads together and work on the trip back.

As he was about to get into the Jeep Marc stopped him and gave him a tight, reassuring hug. And Will stopped, in all the rush he'd almost forgotten his own problems. As Marc held him things came flooding back to him and he drew a tight breath, brushing the younger man's cheek.

"I love you," Will murmured as he got into the Jeep and warmed up the engine, wishing he had pulled on a jacket. But it was too late for that; he would just have to shiver until the Jeep warmed up.

"See you soon," Marc said as Will closed the door and gunned the gas, sliding the Jeep up the slippery driveway to the dirt track that would take them back to the highway.

* * *

Once they were safely on the road and the infamous Canadian rain was falling, Will fished out his horn-rimmed glasses and put them on leaning forward a little to see through the windshield as he drove. He pushed the Jeep a little faster than he should, but all things considered, he doubted anyone would complain.

Lisa was making calls to her communications staff, already getting people working on press releases, making it clear that they didn't have all the facts yet, but the spin was to downplay the heart attack and make it sound minor.

Will hoped to god that was true.

They would be back in the city in about an hour, and he kept focused on his driving, trying not to think on the fact that his entire life was collapsing in the space of a few short hours. His mentor was in a hospital bed... that was a terrifying reminder of how mortal people truly were.

His hands gripped the wheel tighter as he accelerated the Jeep, switching it over to four by four knowing that the extra traction would help him keep the vehicle on the road. He swallowed and for the first time in many, many years he found himself praying.