Panthera Spelaea

The seven of us gathered after dinner in Art’s office to go over our nominations to take the gift Ekatarina once had. I liked Ekatarina, though I’d only had a little time with her before Todd took her from us. The others had known her for decades and were still recovering from the shock. I could tell each of us had given our candidates a lot of thought.

Art nominated two people. James Winston was an unmarried Acquisitions director in his company and a grandson, forty-four years old and divorced, no kids. “He has an eye for identifying opportunities and the courage of his convictions. I can only imagine what he could do with his youth restored.” The second, Louisa Karpen, his last daughter his mate bore before her death. “She’s studying International Relations at Oxford. Exceedingly bright, personable, and intuitive. She’s the kind of person people gravitate towards.”

Edward’s nominees were both retired now. Clark Maxwell, a former neighbor in Saskatchewan, Canada, and Professor of Agriculture at the University. His wife passed from cancer ten years ago. “One of the most brilliant people I’ve ever met, a real pioneer in the development of drought-tolerant crops. Give him youth and time, and he’ll make a dent in world hunger.” His second nominee, Edith Poole, ran a battered women’s shelter in London for decades. “I picked retired people because we don’t have to speculate on what they would do with their lives. We know their choices and their characters, and we can give them a second chance to continue their work.”

Duncan nominated two of his children that believed them to be dead and buried long ago. Lieutenant Colonel Hunter West, United States Marine Corps, was an active-duty fighter pilot, Naval Academy graduate, and veteran of the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. His wife was killed by a drunk driver last year, and they had no children. The second daughter was a retired schoolteacher in Colorado whose husband had died of a heart attack a decade ago.

I nominated my younger sister Melanie, pointing out that as a young person, there would be no history or identity to change for a decade or more until her lack of aging became too obvious. “She’s the choice to take over my father’s company, and she deserves it. With two Switchers in the family, my parents and brother will protect the truth. It gives us a way to ‘alternate’ ownership down the road.” My second nominee was a surprise to all; it was Doc Margaret. “I know I was supposed to nominate a man, but Doc would be a good choice too.”

Art nodded his thanks. “I’m impressed. You’ve chosen good people for this. I’ll come up with a suitable reason to invite them to Croatia to meet us and make the arrangements.”

Duncan looked up. “How are we going to handle the interviews? My nominees both believe us to be dead.”

“I think it would be best if the nominators weren’t part of the interviews with the nominees. We can have you watching from another room.”

I didn’t agree. “We have identities to protect, and in my case, I’m too well known. Have one interviewer, with the rest watching remotely, at least until we’ve narrowed it down to two or three candidates.”

“Good idea,” Duncan said. “We should figure out what kind of standardized tests or interview questions we have for all of them, and we can feed questions on the fly by computer.”

With that, Art’s team started their work. His people had been busy baiting the trap. Art had talked to his friend on Svetac Island, asking to use it starting tomorrow “to let his pets out for a run.” His mole was now working for us, so Zach and his security team could hide what we needed and let Mikhail’s people intercept what we wanted them to.

Meanwhile, Art’s agents had already reached the island and were establishing surveillance positions. They verified no other people were there; although posted as private property, boats sometimes came ashore to explore the ruins. They would have one patrol boat circling the island to make sure people stayed away.

They also found a stand-in for me. To get an animal the size of me in the Moscow photographs, you couldn’t use a male African lion. Instead, they obtained a male Liger on the black market. The offspring of a male African Lion and a female Bengal Tiger, the male was much bigger than both. Where a male Lion might reach five hundred pounds, this one was almost nine hundred. He also lacked the shaggy mane of the African Lion male, making him a closer match to the photo. Most ‘experts’ consulted on the Moscow sighting had called it a Liger based on these two characteristics alone. A cargo helicopter had just delivered the sedated animal to the island.

Zach briefed us on progress. Our plan was simple; release the Liger and wait for Mikhail to show up, then kill them all and bury the evidence at sea. “We know from the helicopter attack that Mikhail’s team won’t come in until it is safe. So, we drop off John during a brief stop as scheduled. John, you make your way to the abandoned church, where our people will be waiting with the Liger. You go in, they let the Liger out, and we wait for his people to show up and kill it. We expect that once the Liger is dead, Mikhail will arrive to touch it. That’s when our people move in and take them out.”

“When do we arrive at the island?”

“Just before sunrise. It won’t take long to get the launch in the water and deliver you to the beach,” Art said.

Zach laid it out. “Our boat will drop you off; you’ll have a bag with camo gear, food, water, binoculars, cellphone, and a handgun. Once we get the all-clear, our patrol will come in and clean up the evidence while we wait for another boat to get everyone off the island. Our teams will drive you to Sibenik to meet up with us.”

It all sounded good. “I better get my sleep, then,” I said as I thought about the early wakeup.

Art pulled me aside as we broke up the meeting. “Melanie just boarded a private jet to take her from Philadelphia to Halifax, and then another is bringing her to Split Airport. That’s an hour or so south of Sibenik. She’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.”

“Thank you. I can’t wait to see Melanie again.” I collected my mates and returned to our room to sleep.

My Lion was nervous, and we both wanted to love our mates after everything that had happened. We finally got to sleep by eleven, which made the three AM wake-up tough to handle. “Stay safe,” Anna said as I got ready to board the launch at the stern thirty minutes later.

“I will,” I promised.

Svetlana didn’t say anything; she hung on me like I was going to disappear. I kissed them both, then tossed the boatswain my bag and climbed on board. There wasn’t much of a beach on this rocky island; most of the shoreline was cliffs and broken rock. The boatswain guided the rigid inflatable launch through the underwater rocks in a tiny inlet, and I jumped onto the boulders as it touched. “Welcome to Svetak Island. Good luck,” he told me as he tossed me my bag.

“Thanks.” I climbed up to the top of the rocks as he sped back to the superyacht. I waved at the girls, knowing they would be watching, and started the hike towards the ruins of the Crkva sv. Adrije. “Coming in,” I warned them before I opened the ancient-looking wooden church door.

The rumble of a pissed-off Liger had my Cave Lion on edge.