Eleanor Clarke Yukic
A solitary man, intent on inflicting a major catastrophe on the United States in retaliation for the death of his wife and two children in a US bombing raid on his mideastern city of residence, has arrived in Canada surreptitiously on a small fishing boat. With the help of a Quebec Islamic militant group, he plans to cross the border into Vermont and hike the Appalachian Trail to New York.
Jon Richards, a Homeland Security agent, has picked up hints from a myriad of web conversations between militant jihadist groups that a terrorist might have made it to the North American Continent. His instincts, usually reliable, convince him this is serious, but no one within the agency will believe his theory of a plot. He desperately connives to get permission to follow his hunch.
Adam and Luke Langford from Livingston, New York have taken to the Appalachian Trail hiking north to escape from the police. Luke is being sought on suspicion of the murder of a small, sexually assaulted girl.
Teri and Jim Collins, faculty members of Kensington college in Berkeley, are vacationing in Vermont hiking inn to inn. On several prior vacations, they have become entangled in a series of crimes not of their making. They are in hopes this will not happen on their current trip. Initially they find the scenery beautiful, the exercise stimulating, the meals delicious and most of the fellow hikers delightful companions. But suddenly Jennifer, daughter of fellow hikers Ted and Lisa Moore, has disappeared on the trail. Is Luke the culprit?
The terrorist and his companion, the brothers trying to escape from the police, the kidnapped child’s distraught parents, the young Homeland Security Officer and the various inn to inn hikers–all are on a collision course as they hike the trails of this novel.
NA
The small fishing boat silently pulled up to the empty dock. The lone passenger, a tall scholarly looking man wearing a large backpack, jumped onto the silently swaying wharf. He inhaled deeply. Savoring the fresh smell of the nearby pine forest. He’d done it! He’d made it to Canada, and he was only a few short miles from his destination. From the border to the United States.
He turned, his voice soft but threatening.”Remember! You never made this trip. You never had a passenger on this boat.“
Go in peace, silently mouthed one of the grizzly sailors. As their former passenger walked swiftly down the length of the village dock, the boat turned and quietly glided into the safety of the darkness. Considering he’d had to coerce– threaten–finally bribe the fishermen to bring him this far up the St. Lawrence River, the man was surprised that they had parted on amicable terms. But his directions had been specific. Land at St. Jean-Port-Joli where someone will be waiting to help you.
