Moving.

The world was churning around Linda.

Everything was trembling. Sometimes Linda could not move. Her muscles were slack, there was fire all around her, hot, hot hotter than Hell. Where could Ben be?

"Ben... help me..."

She heard it loud in her ears, like screams. They could be whispers. "Please Ben... Help me Ben..."

There was nothing she could see. Then it was oblivion again.

For a long time.

Long time....

Nothing happened. The world spun furiously when she felt herself being propped up. There was a scorching hot liquid being shoved inside her throat. She almost choked, and felt cold, cold cold. She shivered and called. "Ben..."

Long time...

There were sounds reaching her ears, strange sounds she had never heard before. And the smells were definitely wrong. Her head was so confused, there were things she could not think. Was she in a hospital? Nah. No hospital wouls smell so bad. Why would she be in a hospital anyway? She felt so sick. All she wanted to do was sleep, but she knew she would do that much better with Fraser's arms around her.

"Ben..."

Then the smells got nearer her and more hot liquid was poured inside her mouth. At least now she could feel a hand across her front, skin cool and rough, so unlikely any she knew. It was not as soft and as loving as Mrs. Vecchio's nor warm and tender as Fraser's. It was unknown. And the taste...

That hot thing she was forced to swallow had the most awful taste Linda could remember in her whole life. It was not hospital food. It was not tea, no leaf tea, no tree bark tea. But it made her feel well enough to get back to sleep. This time it was not the trashy, ragged and feverish sleep between delirious states. It was good, natural and replenishing sleep.

When Linda registered that she was finally awake, she was completely alone. And the world as she knew it was totally gone.

It dawned on Linda that two unknown young men had snatched her from her apartment. Linda was so ill she could barely remember what happened from them on, but as she looked around, she knew this place was totally unknown to her.

She was in some sort of big darkened room, in a big bed, half-buried in all kinds of covers. It had a fireplace inside, and there was a kettle or pot on the fire. The walls were made of wood, and she could see strange things hanging from there - carpets, some shelves filled with pots, cups. There was a table, some chairs and a strange smell, something she could not quite place.

Two seconds later, she found out. Her hands ran on the covers, and she realised one of those blankets was made from animal skin. Others were from wool, and all of them smelled a little. Not that they were dirty, Linda realised, but they had natural smells, just like Ben's leather jacket. They were soft, though, and helped her keep warm.

It did not take long for her to speculate where was she, or who had taken her there. Linda prayed with all her heart it had not been Victoria. Last time they met Linda barely survived, and worse - she was still paying the price. But then, if not, it left so few candidates that Linda shivered just to think about -

Her thoughts fled her as the door opened, and there was a blast of hard, cold wind, snow coming inside, too. A woman came inside the room, in heavy winter clothing, furs and all. Linda froze, paralysed with fear, not really knowing what to do, but keeping her eyes glued on the woman.

The lady took off her rustic fur coat and a wool scarf, revealing her black, lustrous and straight hair and her overweight forms. Her face was flushed from the cold, and her eyes crinkled. The stranger smiled when she saw Linda awake, staring at her, and approached the bed. She said something, something Linda did not understand. They were strange words. And she kept coming towards Linda.

"Who are you?" The woman said some more strange words.

"Please, tell me... where am I?"

More of those words, words Linda did not recognise. Fear started to build inside her, a pain in her hollow stomach, burning, making her mind reel. "No, please...! Stand back! Stand BACK!"

Suddenly, it was all too much for Linda. She saw the woman getting near her, and imagined she was the one Victoria chose to finish the job and kill her. Linda absolutely freaked and squealed loud, louder than she ever did, loud enough to weak up dead people a hundred miles away.

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!"

The woman halted, startled. She clearly did not expect that, but Linda was way past all those considerations. Hysterical, the girl continued to scream in total terror, unable to stop, and tried to scramble to get on her feet and away from the woman. Blinded by fear, Linda had forgotten her legs were totally paralysed.

So she went on screaming and thrashing and scraping herself, trying to get herself away from the woman, when suddenly she felt strong arms pinning her down in the bed, and she had the impulse to kick whoever was holding her, but her legs were not operative. Then, and only then, was she able to hear past her own screams and to feel a firm, strong slap on her cheek. Immediately Linda stopped screaming, snapped her eyes open and sniffled to see who hit her. There was an old man, grey hair and solemn brown eyes holding her.

"Calm down, please. Please keep calm."

Linda tried to control her sobs. "Please don't kill me", she begged. "I am ill, please don't hurt me..."

The man relaxed a bit of his grip on her. "Calm down. I won't hurt you. Do you hear me?" Linda nodded, still trying to catch her breath, and his voice became softer. "It is OK. No need to be afraid." The old man finally let go of her, and Linda saw the strange woman hovering above him, looking at her.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

He reached out for her and she flinched to get away from his touch. He did not insist, and sighed. "Time for that later. Now this is Ilaqali, and she is taking care of you. She does not speak your language. She will feed you now, and you will eat, and after you eat, you will rest. Do you understand?"

Tears were still on Linda's face as she nodded. The old man then turned to the woman (Ilaqali), told her something in that strange language, then looked at Linda, his eyes smooth and his voice soft. "You rest, recover. Then we talk." And then he left.

Linda wiped her tears and looked up to the woman called Ilaqali. She wished some of her questions had been answered, but something inside her told the best thing to do was to keep quiet. Ilaqali smiled at Linda, then turned to the fire. Linda craned her neck to try to see what she was doing, but the woman's large body did not let her see anything.

In a few minutes, Ilaqali turned around, and took a large bowl to Linda. The girl tried not to wince at the proximity of the woman, who sat on the bed and started to feed her. Linda could not identify what was that in the first spoonful, but noticed it was awful. She almost choked, her stomach revolving in repulsion, so she tried to resist.

No use. Ilaqali proved herself a very persistent woman, and fed Linda at least a dozen more spoonfuls. After that, she probably took pity on the girl, or figured it would be enough. Ilaqali put the bowl away and then said some of those strange words, but her voice was nice and soft. Her black eyes were reassuring, and she patted Linda on the cheek, smiling. Linda just braced herself, suddenly feeling very tired.

When Ilaqali left her alone, Linda was tired and still quite afraid. She did not know what to say, and that food was awful. She hugged herself and slipped into merciful sleep, before she even realised how really tired she was.

Linda woke up suddenly, calling for Ben. Disoriented, she kept on calling him, and wondered if her bedroom was on fire. After a few seconds panting, she remembered everything and sighed heavily. It had *not* been a vivid nightmare.

That realisation hit her harder than she could imagine. Her throat constricted, and a sob erupted loud and painful. A second one followed, and her shoulders shook convulsively. After that, a literal flood of tears streamed down her face. Unable to control herself, Linda wailed away in the night, head hidden in the pillow surmising she had been left alone, with not even a captor to keep her company. She called Ben over and over, now fully aware he would not come, using the sound of his name as some sort of mantra or prayer. Repeating it, she grew tired again, and eventually she slept.

Linda never woke up when Ilaqali rose from her bed on the floor, and stared gently at her sleeping face to make sure she was resting.

Voices nearby brought Linda away from sleep. Not fully awake, she tried to rise. "Ben?"

All voices stopped and she rubbed her eyes. There were at least three men staring at her, not to mention Ilaqali. Linda tried not to show how much of a shock that was to her. The three men were not unknown to her. One was the old man she had met earlier, and the other two were the duo who took her from her apartment. She gasped and suppressed a yell, remembering that old man had hit her once and he could do it again.

The old man took a step in her direction. "Don't be afraid. No one here wants to harm you."

Linda did not believe in that for a second, and kept her gaze at the two young men who had taken her from her home without saying a word. The old man followed her eyes, then sighed.

"I know this is hard for you to believe. David and his friend did a very bad thing. But they did not mean to scare you. You see, you are here because Benton asked us to take care of you."

Linda could not help the flare of anger that swept through her. "It is a lie! Ben would never do such a thing!"

"It is the truth," the old man said quietly. "It is important you believe it. Some weeks ago, Ben called Eric to ask if we could treat a very serious case. He said some traditional healing might help your case. Didn't he tell you that?"

Linda shook her head as she felt her heart pounding inside her chest, and she still did not know if she could believe the man. Unsure, she just stared at the old man, waiting for him to continue.

He gestured to the young men. "David and Nikitit were headed for Chicago, and Eric thought it was a good occasion to bring you here. But they only had a short time while they were there, and they tried to talk to Benton, and - "

"Wait a minute. What do you mean 'while they were there'? Aren't we in Chicago?"

The old man stared very intently at her. "No, we are not. David and Nikitit brought you to Canada, to our village."

Linda's head totally spun. She was in *Canada*! Another country! Ben's country! Her senses were threatening to fail her, and her voice went up an octave higher. "But... how...?"

"Calm down," said the old man. "As I said before, the boys were quite impatient to return, so they felt it was best to bring you along, even though you were not quite well to such a long trip, and they couldn't talk to Benton. But they are young, and their judgement is not tempered by the experience of years."

There were fewer occasions in her life when Linda felt so alone. Tears sprung from her eyes before she could even register she was crying.

The old man cleared his throat. "The boys have something they want to tell you".

There was palpable embarrassment on the air. One of the young men stepped forward. "We are sorry. We should have talked to Benton. He is Uncle Eric's friend. Please forgive us. We meant no harm."

Linda wiped her tears and tried to breathe again. She did not know what to think, so there was nothing she could say to the young men, who seemed to be as old as she herself was.

The old men drew her attention. "We settled you in this cabin, because it is communal, and it is built in our tradition ways. Ilaqali volunteered to take care of you, because you came here too sick. Now your fever is under control, but you must be fully recovered before we begin."

"Begin?"

"Your healing. But this is another thing. First you need to recover fully and gather some strength."

"I am much better. You can begin the treatment if you like."

The old man shook his head. "No, you are still too weak. But it is not your body we are concerned about, but your spirit. It is sick, and your body just followed. You just rest, eat traditional food, have some very good niqiits, and that's what we call traditional meats, so your spirit can go stronger. Then we start healing your body."

Linda tried to hold back the tears, but could not. "How long will the treatment take?"

"We'll see about it later. Now try to recover. If you need anything, tell Ilaqali."

The girl nodded, unable to say anything else. The three men walked out of the cabin, and Linda could hear people talking outside. She looked at Ilaqali, and the woman tried to smile at Linda. The American girl looked at the native Canadian and wept.

"I don't believe you, Benny! You slept in the Consulate again knowing full well Ma had a perfectly good room waiting for you, didn't you?"

Even through the telephone, Fraser could feel Ray was annoyed. There was nothing he could do. He could not go home, not to the apartment, not when Linda was missing, and he seemed to be so helpless to help her out. He also felt so guilty about everything...

He sighed. "I am sorry, Ray. I was working late, then I got distracted and I thought it was inappropriate to arrive at your home in such an untimely hour."

"You're welcome at my house any time and you know it", chided Ray. "Did you get in touch with the Dragon Lady?"

Fraser felt himself stiff. "I was told she was still in a training centre and was not to be disturbed. I was also encouraged to... give up trying to talk to her".

It was Ray's turn to sigh. "I am sorry to hear that, Benny. Look, if you have the time now, I was going to check the tracks found near your apartment. There is a guy I know in the South Side that could help us find what car they came from."

"I am sorry, Ray, I am a tad busy right now. I am sure you will come up with something."

"Sure. But there is something going on, I can feel it in my bones. I have not been able to talk to Welsh for the last two days. And I have seen Feds around the precinct. Something is going on, Benny, and I don't like the smell of it".

"Ray, it is a kidnapping case. You know the FBI is required to check all kidnappings. It is standard procedure, and we both know that."

"Yeah, yeah, but then why aren't they taking over the case? And why is it so secret? Welsh has not taken me off the case, so I am investigating it anyway. Besides, Feds or no Feds, I would not leave the case, and Welsh knows it."

"Then maybe it is the help you requested at last. It would come in handy. We have been quite busy, but the truth is that nothing has been very... effective."

There was a small pause at the other end of the line. Then Ray's voice seemed to be quieter. "We will find her, Benny."

Fraser couldn't help it, and his voice was a little cracked. "Of course we will. Is Diefenbaker behaving?"

"The mutt is happy to be pampered by Ma. But he keeps sniffing me. It seems he is hoping to find her scent in me. Then he whines and goes back to the door, as if expecting her to come in any minute. But the kids always call him to play, so he is not as depressed as he could be."

Fraser felt a bit relieved. "I am glad he has an opportunity to keep his mind away from things." The button on his phone began to flash repeatedly, indicating an incoming call. "I am sorry, Ray, but I have to go. There is another call coming."

"All right, Benny, I will keep you posted. See ya."

The connection was broken and Fraser sighed, trying to focus his attention on his work. It was so hard to concentrate these last few days...He pushed the flashing button. "Yes, Constable Turnbull?"

"Sorry, Sir, but there is a tribal elder on line 2. He is calling from the Territories."

The Territories?, Fraser frowned. "All right, Constable, I will take it, thank you." He flipped another button. "Constable Fraser speaking."

"Hello, Benton. Good to hear from you."

Fraser smiled involuntarily at the familiar voice. The sound transported him back to his childhood, when that same voice would fill his willing ears with stories about the traditional ways of the tribe and all the mysteries of the land. Fraser's trained ears did not miss the tone of grief in that friendly voice.

"Shaman, it is nice to hear you, too. But I can sense your distress. Is there something I can do for you?"

"I ask your forgiveness for the news I am about to break to you, Benton. But that can come later For now I ask you to hear what I have to say. Remember you contacted Eric a few weeks ago?"

For several minutes, Benton Fraser listened to the old man unfurl a story he only believed because of the man who was telling it. It would seem too fantastic coming from anyone else. Apart from that fact, the emotions playing within him were making it hard to breathe.

"You know I usually don't take family during the healing process, but I am afraid she is too scared. She arrived here in a pretty bad physical shape, and now she has a hard time trusting anyone. I would not dare to take her to the sweat lodge the way she is now. You must help her, Benton."

"How?"

"Her spirit is even more troubled than her body right now. She needs someone to believe in, someone to trust. I was wondering if you could come up here and just reassure her. Tell her she is among friends."

Fraser bit a lip in frustration, his stomach churning. Linda needed him, and he couldn't go. That was totally unbecoming. "I regret that I am quite tied up here, now. Duty." He said the word with frustration and contempt for the first time in his life, his voice harsh. "I won't be able to get out at least for two weeks."

There was an audible sight from the other end of the line. "How unfortunate. I am afraid taking her to a telephone right now is impossible, too. She needs to be reassured so the healing can begin. This is important, Benton."

An idea flashed through Fraser's mind. "I will ask someone to stop by and talk to her. Luckily she will listen."

"I hope it works, Benton. I apologise again for the distress this whole situation caused you and Linda. Rest assured we will do anything to get her back to her health."

"I know this, shaman. Thank you for calling. I will try to call you back."

"Take care, Benton."

When Fraser hung up the phone, he let out a breath he had not realised he had been holding. It seemed a 50-ton weight had been released from his shoulder, only to be replaced by a 10-ton one. His whole body was shaking. When he calmed down a little, he turned to the telephone again and began to dial numbers at a frantic speed.

Since that reunion with the tribesmen, when Linda found out she was a victim of an involuntary international kidnapping, all days seemed to go unnoticed. Linda accepted Ilaqali's ministrations, and even grew more accustomed to being bathed, cleaned and fed in bed. Her diet was mainly raw meat - a traditional food for the sick people.

Nevertheless, Linda's reaction was close to none. During the day, she stayed in bed, having no one to talk, eventually smiling at Ilaqali. Linda did not sense any harm coming from the big native woman, but the fact that they could not communicate besides some gestures was taking its toll on the American girl.

She missed Ben terribly, and she could almost feel his concern for her. Her sole consolation was her ring. She turned it on her finger, over and over, as if the small cold object could reassure their love. Ben would be nuts, she was almost sure. Ray, on the other hand, would not be worried. He would be totally angry, shouting at everyone, biting people's heads off. Linda smiled just to think about Ray, as if she could see his long arms flapping, his green eyes sparkling, his whole body moving in elegant annoyance, as always. Then she wondered how the other people in her life would react. Ma would be praying, Frannie would be trying to calm her down lest she herself went nuts, Turnbull would be breaking things all over his own apartment...

These thoughts usually came to her at nights, after her nightmares and screams woke her up. Linda called for Ben every single night in her sleep. Then she would cry herself to the point she was so tired and breathless all she could do was fall into merciful oblivion. Lately, however, no matter how much she wept, she could not get back to sleep for a long time.

That night, apparently, was one of the latter. She thought she was awake, but then she found a Mountie standing near her bed. Linda did not startle, for she knew the man.

"I recognise you," she said quietly. "You were in my dreams while I was at the hospital."

The older Mountie smiled. "I did not think you would remember that. I am glad you do."

"So am I dreaming again? Why would I be dreaming about you again?"

The Mountie sat on her bed, and Linda did not feel his weight on the mattress, thus reinforcing her belief she was dreaming. The man said. "I did not know dreams had a reason to be."

"My dreams usually do. Dr. Lennyard is the one who explains those dreams to me. Being this the second time I dream about you, I can definitely tell there is a reason. I wish I could explain it as well as Dr. Lennyard does."

"Ah." The Mountie then seemed to be considering the question very hard. "What if I told you that you find Mounties a symbol of trustworthiness and safety? It might be so, due to your... bond with Benton. Therefore, right now when you need to feel safe, you would dream about a Mountie."

Linda thought hard on his words, then nodded, pleased. "Yes. Yes, that makes every sense to me, Mr... Er, Mr... I am sorry, I don't know your name."

"My friends call me Bob. I am a Sergeant with the RCMP."

"Nice to meet you, Sergeant Bob. So you came to my dream to give me a sense of security."

"One might say so, yes. It is important you trust the native people. They want to help you."

"That is what the old man told me. But I don't know whom to trust. I mean, they just yanked me from my home. I am so scared."

"They say it was an accident. They boys were impatient, and did not think much. You know how kids can be."

"I am not much older than they are, Sergeant."

The Mountie inspected her closely, and seemed surprised. "Oh, dear. I have never noticed you were so young."

"And now they keep me here in this cabin. I am not sure if I am not a prisoner, you understand? I wish someone would tell me what to do. I wish Ben were here."

"Benton would be here if he could," said Sergeant Bob. "You know that, don't you?"

"Yes. I know he was very busy at the Consulate, because the Inspector would be gone for some time. I wonder if he even knows what is going on. I miss him so much, Sergeant."

"Do you believe he wanted to send you here?"

"Well, he mentioned once the possibility of getting a better treatment in Canada, once we got married. But I was imagining it would involve a hospital and other doctors, not this kind of treatment. It would never cross my mind."

"But Benton thought this, at least once."

"It seems he did. But he never told me that. Maybe it was because I said no when he asked me to marry him. He might have thought I would say no to this, too", she whimpered. "Yet none of this can help me now. I don't know if I can trust these people. They seem nice and all, but still..."

"I see. You need reassurance."

Linda nodded, relieved he understood. "Exactly, Sergeant. Reassurance."

The Mountie smiled. "No problem. I will see what I can do."

Linda smiled fondly. "You know, you may become my favourite dream, from now on. I sure don't have much to do here, so I can dream all I want. I appreciate your trying to help me even if you are just a product of my imagination."

Bob just smiled. "Well, I have been called worse, believe me."

"You are so nice. I think Ben would like to meet you, since you are a fellow Mountie."

The Mountie had a different smile. "I wish he could feel the same."

Linda yawned and laughed her little laugh. "It seems so funny I am sleepy. I am already asleep! This is such a strange dream."

Bob rose from the bed. "Perhaps it's time to get it over, then. Let you catch some sleep."

Linda rubbed her eyes. "Perhaps you are right. And if you do talk to Ben, please be sure to -"

She stopped talking when she realised there was no one talking to her anymore.

"Bob? Bob, are you there?"

Linda shrugged, thinking once again that this was a strange dream indeed and tried to sleep inside her sleep.

When Linda's breath was steady and deep, indicating she had resumed sleep, Ilaqali raised from her cot in the floor and put some more wood in the fire. She got worried from hearing the qallunaat talking to herself. The shaman would have to be informed about it.

The next night, Linda had a strange feeling of déja vu. When she woke up, alerted by her own voice yelling for Ben, it took her longer than usual to calm down. But she stayed quiet, trying hard not to cry. Alone again, in the night. At least that is what she thought.

Then the door opened, and a blast of icy cold wind came inside the cabin as well as some snow, followed by a figure covered in fur. Linda yelped in fear, and to her total surprise, Ilaqali suddenly sprung from the side of her bed and positioned herself between Linda and the newly comer.

It only lasted a second, for the man raised his arms and his coat opened disclosing a familiar red serge uniform. Linda's heart almost leapt out of her chest. He was a Mountie!

Linda could not help it. She had to ask, "Help me! Help me, please!"

The man slowly took off his furred hat, revealing his old face, and as he opened his mouth to speak, the door opened again. It was the old man, who said something Linda could not understand, directly at Ilaqali. The native woman responded, then the shaman said something else. Ilaqali then took her coat, looked at Linda and smiled before she left her alone with the Mountie, the shaman following her.

"Sir", called Linda, trying to halt her tears. "Sir, please. I don't know who you are or why you are here, but you need to help me. Please, help me go home."

The Mountie took off his coat and grabbed the chair Ilaqali used to feed Linda. "My name is Ducan Frobisher, Ma'am, and I am here at the urge of Benton".

Linda's face lit up. "Ben called you? Is he coming?"

"He can't come, so he insisted I come as soon as I could. I am sorry I could not get here earlier. The old back, you know..."

Then Linda realised something he said. "You said you were Frobisher? Are you related to one Buck Frobisher Ben kept talking about?"

The man seemed surprised. "Well, young lady, it happens that I am also called Buck Frobisher".

Linda was awed. "You are the one who used to be partner with Ben's father? He told me so many stories about you."

Frobisher grew closer. "Benton seemed very worried about you, Ma'am."

"Please, call me Linda, sir. I am no Madam."

"Well, that's the polite thing to say, young lady. I'm here to help you".

"Are you going to help me go home?"

"I bear a message from Benton. He wants you to know he is awfully tied up to duty right now, but he will be up here as soon as he can. Until then, you can rest assured that the shaman and the rest of the tribe will take good care of you."

Linda lowered her head. "I am so scared. They took me from my home, and I was so sick. It was so awful."

Frobisher came closer, saw the fear in the girl's green eyes. "Benton told me. It was really... unfortunate. But there is nothing to fear. You are among friends."

Linda raised her head to study his face. "You are a Mountie. Mounties don't lie. Besides, you used to be Ben's father partner. And Ben sent you."

The veteran Mountie realised Linda was lining up all reasons to trust him. It was a decision she had to take by herself. Nevertheless, Buck Frobisher wondered what might have happened to such a young girl or why was she so unwilling to trust people.

As if reading his thoughts, Linda laughed. "Sorry about that. I was thinking aloud."

"I don't know what else I can say to convince you. These are good people. Their ways are different, and they seem to act strange, but they have goodness in their heart. Whatever happened to you, they want to try to fix it. Make you better."

Linda sighed and tried to hold back the tears. "I can feel it. Deep inside, I believe they don't want to hurt me. And they say that Ben knows them, too. Ben would never have thought of sending me here if they were not friends. But I am so scared. They took me to Canada and never told Ben. How can I be sure they are who they say they are?"

"I know them. They are friends. If Benton were here, he would say that, too. He used to spend a lot of time here in this village. He has a friend here, named Eric."

Linda sighed. "They told me Eric is gone hunting, or something. Ben has told me about him, too. I am sorry if I seem so... reticent."

Frobisher raised his hand. "No problem. I am sure you have many things to sort out. But I must apologise for entering like this. I understand it is quite early, and you probably was asleep."

"Actually, sleeping is mostly what I do here, and I am beginning to get a little restless. Without my wheelchair, I cannot go anywhere. But you must be cold. Ilaqali always leaves some water to make some tea. You can have some if you like."

"No, thank you. This cabin is reserved for you. The shaman is very restrict about it. He also insists you get most rest now. He expects a long treatment."

The girl shrugged. "I am not sure what he can do. Even the doctors were not sure they could help me."

Frobisher couldn't help it. "Benton did not tell me what happened to you. Do you mind if I ask? Would you like to talk about it?"

"I don't mind talking about it, sir. But it might take a while. Are you up to it?"

He smiled, and they talked. They talked for hours, like two old friends, and Linda seemed to relax much more. Ilaqali returned and fed both of them with some beluga whale skin. Frobisher told Linda it was a delicacy indigenous of that region, and a sign of great honour. Then they talked some more, this time almost ignoring Ilaqali's presence in the room. The woman smiled, seeing Linda laughing freely with the other qallunaat. The shaman would be pleased.

When Fraser locked up the Consulate that night, he was feeling actually tired. Tired, yet relieved in a way. For the first time since Linda had disappeared, he felt he might sleep at night. That call from the shaman in the early afternoon had injected new life into him. She was safe, and out of Victoria's claws. It would be weeks until he could travel to meet her, but at least now he was sure she was safe.

Fraser was also anxious to get to the precinct and tell Ray the good news, but strangely the Italian had been unavailable the whole day. Fraser knew he should have told the police what happened, but he wanted to break the news to Ray first. The Mountie was beginning to get worried about his detective friend. Ray was so devastated on Linda's disappearance that even Mrs. Vecchio was starting to worry about her son. Fraser figured someone at the precinct would know what happened to Ray.

The moment the Consulate was secured and his feet returned to American soil, four men came upon Fraser. The Mountie recognised all of them even before they came from the shadows to the light of the lamp. He was intrigued about the two FBI agents, but not about the two detectives. So he greeted all of them.

"Ah, Detective Huey, Detective Dewey, fellow FBI officers. Good evening."

The cop did not share his smile neither his light mood.

"Fraser, we are here in business."

"Of course. I myself was on my way to the precinct, detective, for I have the most astonishing piece of news you have ever -"

The Fed interrupted him by basically twirling his body over so his partner Dieter could cuff him. "Constable Fraser, you are under the arrest for kidnap and murder of Linda Lyme."

Before Fraser could even recover for the shock, his Miranda rights were being cited to him. His head was spinning and he could hardly keep upstraight.

Then the Fed, whom he knew was agent Ford, flashed him a feral smile and mouthed in his ear quietly. "Thought you could fuck the loony girl all you want, then kill her and dump her somewhere when you grew tired of her? Well, think again, Mountie boy".

His blood boiled in seconds. It took Fraser every amount of control not to attack the man right there, handcuffed or not. His jaw twitched as he bit down a reply, and almost missed Huey's quiet answer, before they took him away. "I'm sorry, Fraser."

Being paraded handcuffed into the bullpen was not a new experience to Fraser, and this time he was relieved to find sympathetic looks from various cops around. He spotted a small crowd cramped in Welsh's office: a very upset lieutenant, an irate Ray Vecchio, an angry-looking assistant DA Stella Kowalski, a visibly tired Dr. Lennyard, and three men in black suits he did not know, but they all seemed to be arguing.

His arrival made the group stop their argument. As Fraser was taken to be booked, his eyes found Ray's from beyond the glass. Then he knew. He saw Ray's anger and pain, and knew his Italian friend was in as much trouble as he was. But Fraser couldn't say how much of a trouble Ray was. He had surmised that this surreal situation should be what the detective described as a sort of FBI thing.

The Canadian was still trying to cope with the fact that these people believed he killed Linda. They obviously did not know a thing. But since the assistant DA was in the precinct, it meant they were trying to put together a case against him. What sort of evidence could they have?

Fraser was taken to one of the interrogation rooms he knew so well. The Mountie could almost hear all adjacent rooms piling up with curious people behind the two-way mirror. Agent Ford came inside and relieved him of his handcuffs, meanwhile his partner took a seat across Fraser and Huey went to the other side of the room.

"Want some coffee? Tea?"

Fraser eyed the Fed, and for the second time that night summoned his control. "I want an explanation."

Ford went ballistic. "OK, Mountie, let me explain this to you. We ask you questions and you answer them. Do you like this explanation?"

Huey reminded, "Fraser, you don't have to answer anything without a lawyer."

Fraser threw Huey a soft look. He knew the detective was being kept between a rock and a hard place in this situation. The FBI duo, however, looked ready to reduce the detective to little shreds of meat. Huey just shrugged. "It is his right."

Ford snarled. "He knows his right. But you keep reminding him and I will have you thrown out of here."

"He might have forgotten his rights", Huey said, and he was never this cool. "Happens".

But the Mountie gave up that right. "I just want to establish the truth."

Ford returned his attention to Fraser. "Interesting you say that, because we both know that the truth is, you killed her, right?"

"Why do you say so?"

"Perhaps we need to explain this to you one more time. We ask you questions, and you answer them. It is not the other way around. As a police officer you should know that."

"This is totally absurd," stated Fraser clearly and calmly. "There is a number of people in this building that can confirm I would never do Linda any harm."

"There is also another number of people in this building that can confirm you have been trying to get rid of her."

"That is not true."

"Have you not consulted her doctor about sending her to Canada allegedly to pursuit medical treatment?"

"It was not an allegation. That was the truth."

"So you confirm it?"

"I confirm I talked with her doctor about the possibility of going with her to Canada for a better medical treatment, yes."

"And yet the only person you called in Canada was a friend of yours in some Indian tribe of the Territories, someone who had no medical skills whatsoever. You never called a hospital or some neurological clinic."

Fraser was beginning to get upset. "I was calling on a friend."

"Do you deny you discussed Miss Lyme's medical situation with this friend of yours?"

"Of course not."

"And yet you did so, despite the fact that this man has no medical skills."

"As I said, I was talking to a friend."

"And did you inquire him about a traditional healer of his tribe?"

"Yes, I did, because my intention was to heal Linda. I felt that some traditional medicine might improve her condition."

"But if this traditional medicine ended up killing her, then you would be rid of her, wouldn't you, Constable?"

"It was not my intention."

"Really? Because it surely does not look like you had the intention to heal Miss Lyme, Constable. As a matter of fact, when this healer called you earlier today and informed you that Miss Lyme's condition was bad and she needed you, you flatly refused to go, alleging duty. Do you believe this is the attitude of a man interested in healing his girlfriend?"

Fraser's jaw was set. He was holding himself so tight his muscles where aching. "Sir, if you heard the conversation, as I believe you did, then you know I tried to amend the situation by sending someone - "

"Yes, yes, the old Mountie," interrupted Ford. "Someone she had never seen before."

"I have told her about Sergeant Frobisher. He is an old friend of my family. She knows who he is, even though they had never met in person."

"Yes, so I read in his files. He is also a little bit... odd. He could hardly help someone in her condition, don't you think?"

Fraser sighed, in silent desperation. How long would this charade continue? And more importantly, why?

Ford got near him and mouthed to his ear, hissing every word. "Get this through your thick Canadian skull, Mountie: we know what you did, and we will not let you get away with it. So, you could save yourself a lot of time in jail by just confessing what you and your accomplice did."

Fraser could not help but to shoot him an intrigued look. Then he realised what Ford meant. Ray. They wanted to implicate Ray.

That piece of information sent Fraser's brain reeling. For some reason, the Feds also wanted Ray in jail. It could be some old score to settle from the time Ray was undercover. Or maybe before. It could go deeper than that, and Fraser felt he did not have all the facts.

Suddenly, Huey's advice made all sense. That was what the detective was trying to tell Fraser. But what could one single Mountie do?

"I changed my mind."

"So you will co-operate?"

"I meant about the tea. I'd like some, please."

Ford glared at Fraser, then gestured to his partner. The man reluctantly raised from his chair and slowly moved to the door. When he opened it, Fraser moved with stunning speed. Next thing Ford knew was his body connecting to Huey's, and both were on the floor, while Fraser flung himself out of the interrogation room, also knocking the second FBI agent to the floor and two other cops on the process.

Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion All hell broke loose in the precinct, but the crazed Mountie made it to the bullpen, even though there were at least three cops chasing him, while it seemed everybody else was shouting. Even the small crowd on Welsh's room came out to look, Ray's green eyes wide. His eyes met Fraser's.

One of the cops managed to tackle the Canadian, but in the end it took several minutes, all three cops and some more detectives to subdue the Mountie, while the whole precinct watched the commotion. Fraser never uttered a sound, not as he ran around the bullpen, not when he was halted and was thrown to the floor, then forcefully brought to his feet, this time with his hands cuffed.

Ford swam the sea of cops until he was face to face with the Canadian. The feral smile was back in his FBI face. "You will pay for this, Mountie. Now you are really in trouble."

Fraser panted in silence, his blood rushing with adrenaline as he was roughly spun by his shoulders and dragged again to the interrogation room. His eyes scanned the room, and this time he could not find Ray.

Inwardly, he smiled, before he was push to move back to the holding area.

"I don't believe you, Ray! Why did you make me come all the way to Mrs. DeMarco just for a stupid phone call?"

Ray's voice sounded tense. "Frannie, I need you to shut up and listen. I am in trouble."

Frannie snorted. "Right, you got a girl pregnant or something?"

Ray sighed and made his best effort not to explode in the telephone. This was not the time to argue with his sister. "Francesca, please, I need your help."

The tone in Ray's voice made Frannie stop talking. The fact that Ray was not shouting at her or picking at her informed instantly that his brother was in real trouble. "Ray, what is wrong?"

"You will know soon enough. Listen, I need you to take care of Ma, OK? Tell her I gotta make it clear on my own. Now I need your help, with no question asked. Can you do that?"

"Ray, I don't understand - "

"I am asking if you can do that, Frannie. That is all I need to know."

"OK, OK! You are scaring me, Ray."

"Fine, then. Here is what I need you to do. You go to the shoe repair shop near that lingerie shop you like so much, and ask for Mr. Paducci. Tell him it is for Fraser and me. We are in trouble and we need to borrow his credit card. Make sure you have not been followed, Frannie. After that, you take the card to Father Biehan, along with all money you can get until five o' clock. I will pay you back later. Did you get it?"

"Oh, my God, Ray. What have you done this time?"

"Frannie! Did. You. Get. It?"

"I did, I did. What did you say about Ma? And why aren't you telling me what this is all about?"

"I want you to take care of her, OK? It is better that you don't know. That way you cannot get involved, Frannie."

"Ray," Frannie's voice almost disappeared. "You are scaring the hell out of me."

"It will be OK, Frannie. Everything is going to be alright. I gotta go, now."

"Take care, Ray. Remember I will have to answer Ma if anything happens to you."

"I will remember that, Frannie."

Then he hung up, still shaking. The adrenaline rush he was on still had not settled down since he sneaked out of the 27th precinct in the middle of the confusion created by Fraser. It would be his only chance and he knew it.

He was a cop. He had no business to get away like a criminal and look for a place to lay low, running and hiding, looking over his shoulder to see if someone was following him. But Ray knew this was the only way, given the circumstances.

From all he heard during the time he was inside Welsh's office, it seemed the Feds were on the verge of framing Fraser. The phone conversation they heard (illegally, as Stella Kowalski pointed out) told them Linda was somewhere in the frozen armpit of Canada, and yet they arrested Fraser for murdering her, with flimsy accusations. Thing was, Ray knew he was going to be held up under the same charges. When Fraser opened the door for his escape, he did not hesitate and jumped at the chance, because only by bringing Linda back to Chicago in one piece would get them out of the Feds mess.

In a second's fraction, he knew he had to leave his beloved Riv behind. The other fraction was all the time he had to grab Stella's purse and suitcase, so he could have her car keys and cell phone. The Feds probably had already tapped his own mobile phone, so it was useless. Ray's good star also made him dump Stella's car near Union Station, then take the El until St. Michael's church and ask Father Biehan for shelter, at least until he could get Frannie's money and Mr. Paducci's credit card. He would not get any of Mr. Paducci's money. Ray needed only a credit card that could not be directly traceable when he rented a car. Frannie's, Tony's or Maria's card would lead the Feds straight to him.

He did not talk to Frannie when she came to the church, and felt his eyes watering at the way she looked worried about him. Maybe the cops had not come by the house yet. Then he thanked the good father Biehan, took the money and ran. As fast as he could. He would be driving for days through secondary roads, avoiding main ones and barriers. Due North, of course. Green Bay, Wisconsin would be his first stop.

It was such a relief for Linda. Even though it had been only a few days since she arrived in the native village, it seemed weeks since she could remember being so relaxed. All this, she knew was due to Buck Frobisher's presence there. He was a little odd and eccentric, but she felt good around him. They shared stories about Frasers, both father and son, realising they had plenty in common.

So it should have been no wonder that a mix of desperation and sadness hit Linda when Frobisher announced he was leaving. She knew a Mountie's duty was his life, and she did not insist with the older man to stay a bit longer. Also, Linda politely and heartily thanked him for his company and everything. She even realised she was feeling a little bit better. But she was quite sad, for now she probably would be left alone again.

The next day, right after her morning bath and breakfast, one of the boys came in. Linda tensed instinctively, but the youngster turned to Ilaqali and exchanged a few words with her. The woman nodded and started to dress Linda with some heavy coats. The young man, probably David, although Linda could not be sure of his name, explained. "The old man wants to see you. I will take you to him."

Before Linda could say anything, she was already wrapped in furs and coats, a cap was put on her head, and her legs were encircled in pure caribou skin. Ilaqali made room so David could lift her up in his arms.

"You are heavier."

Linda blushed, realising all those meals based on various meats and no exercise probable made her gain weight. In seconds, though, those thoughts fled her, when David proceeded across the door and brought her out.

It was the first time she could see what was outside the cabin she was in. Her first impression was the brightness of the clean and pristine snow on the ground, and it was thick and heavy. Linda realised she could not be in Chicago. It wouldn't be this cold that time of year. As she was carried to a nearby house, she looked around and saw a few huts, one wooden cabin (the one she was in), some piles of rocks farther away and trailers. There were also dogs (she had heard their barking) and sleds parked, a few snowmobiles. The air was sharp and icy cold, and there was a faint odour of smoke from the chimneys. Then Linda could see no more, for she was taken inside a house.

David set her sitting at a chair of a living room not much dissimilar to her own in Chicago. Across the table the shaman was smiling at her. "Hello. Do you feel good?"

"I am fine, thank you," replied Linda, shiny eyes filled with curiosity.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please. I do feel a little cold."

"That is good," he said. "I will fetch you a cup."

When they were drinking their tea, the shaman thanked David thoroughly and indicated he would call him again to carry Linda back to the cabin. The girl was surprised when the shaman said, "We were trying to get you a wheelchair, but it was no good in the village. So David volunteered to carry you around, hoping to amend for what he has put you through."

"That is very nice", said Linda. "Thank you, David."

The young man nodded without another word, then left. Linda cleared her throat and said. "I also should say I am ashamed of my previous behaviour. I was unfair to you, to Ilaqali and the boys. I was very scared and treated all of you badly. I am sorry."

The shaman smiled and brought her some more of the herbal tea Linda was used to drink with Ben. "I am glad you are feeling better. Ilaqali told me the Mountie's visit did you a world of good. She was worried that you would get very sad."

Linda sipped the hot liquid before replying, "Yes, I was very sad. I also need to ask for Ilaqali's forgiveness. My behaviour was inexcusable, and she was so kind to me. Can you tell her that? That I am very grateful for all she has been doing to me?"

"Of course I will tell her that. She will be very happy, I am sure. As I said, she was worried about you."

"Tell her she doesn't need to worry anymore. Right now I want to get better so I can go home. I miss Ben terribly."

The shaman's voice was soft and reassuring, as if he was talking to a five-year old child. "I think we are almost ready to begin the treatment. Do you know what we do in traditional healing?"

"No, not really. Ben mentioned the use of herbs, communion with nature and other things. I did not understand much. I guess it is different from a doctor, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is. In your case, we will be using also a sweat lodge. Do you know what it is?"

"No. Ben mentioned it, but I don't know what it is."

"It is a sacred place, used for spiritual healing. We use vapours and herbs in a very hot place, so bad things from your spirit can be purged from your body through meditation and sweat. Do you understand?"

Linda was somewhat confused. "I am not sure I do."

The old man smiled at her simplicity. "Don't worry about it. You will be just fine. Now I thought we could talk a while."

"Talk?"

"I thought we could know each other. Your name is Linda, right?"

"Yes. And yours?"

There was a soft laughter from the old man. "I am sorry I cannot divulge. You see, as shaman, my name holds powers, and they cannot be used lightly."

Linda's eyes widened as she heard that. "Really?"

He shrugged. "That is the tradition. It is also said we can fly at night."

The girl was awed. "Wow. Can you really do that?"

He smiled and shrugged. "That is what the tradition says."

Linda eyes him suspiciously. "And you will not tell me no matter how many times I ask you, right?"

This time the shaman laughed harder. "You are very smart. It is amazing what you can do once you are no longer afraid, isn't it?"

"Yes," said Linda. "I guess I learned that. But I should explain that there were reasons for me to be afraid, reasons that have nothing to do with you. That is why I am so ashamed of my behaviour. I treated you badly because of my own fears, not for your actions."

The shaman nodded silently, then refilled her cup of tea once more and asked. "I would like to hear more about it. Can you tell me?"

"Ok. What do you want to know?"

"What are you afraid? What is that fear you keep talking about?"

Linda sighed, lowered her head then whispered, "It was a woman. She gave me a drug and then I could not walk anymore." It was hard to talk about it. Linda thought she had forgot about all the fear and hurt and anger Victoria brought her, but she was wrong. It still hurt like hell.

The shaman sighed, then shifted his cup of tea to reach her hands gently. In an equally gently voice, he reassured, "You can tell me all about it."

Linda stared at him, her eyes searching his face and finding compassion and friendship. She did not realise she was crying until the old man lifted his hand to wipe her tears from her face. In a matter of minutes, Linda was pouring her heart to him.

The healing had begun.

It was ironic that Ray should make a stop in that town. As far as he knew that was Fraser's only posting out of the Territories, and he couldn't handle it - too many people, the Mountie had complained at the time.

To Ray, Moose Jaw seemed to be the proverbial little town, and there was no way he could blend in, specially with that American car with very American plates from Wisconsin. All he could do was try to lay as low as possible and keep on his journey north.

He had avoided coming in from Regina, in Highway 1. Instead, he came from Bushel Pack, in road 2, after crossing the frontier in some frozen forgotten place in Montana until he came to an even more forgotten place that went by the name of Killdeer.

Ray was beaten. He had been driving for more than 20 hours straight and, at the last minute, decided to get a room in a very visible hotel/motel/hostel in downtown Moose Jaw. The Midtown Swiss Motor Inn had plenty of room to hide the Corona he was driving, and it was as well his first best hope for rest. It succeeded. It suited Ray that the inn was only two blocks from Main Street. Looking at the map, he chuckled at the name of the town's second largest street: Caribou Street.

It was a miracle he had made it so far without being spotted. He was sure there were barriers on highways for him. He consulted the map he had bought somewhere in North Dakota and decided - it would be best if he could skip Calgary and Edmonton altogether tomorrow. He tried not to think about Fraser in a holding cell, or Linda in the frozen armpit of the North. He had to get there as soon as he could.

Then sleep claimed Ray Vecchio, currently posing as Mr. Padduci.

"You must be the most annoying man in the world!"

Fraser smiled sadly at Agent Ford. "So I have been told."

"You and Vecchio had a plan, hadn't you? Where is he now?"

"I have no idea."

The FBI agent sighed, opened his suit and placed both hands in his waist, frustrated. "Constable, you said you would be co-operative this time."

"I said I would answer your questions. May I point out that I am indeed answering your questions against my legal counsellor's advice?" Fraser almost snorted to call the public defendant sent for him as legal counsellor. Turnbull was still trying to get a decent attorney for his case. The Canadian could not avoid a sigh. The Inspector would have a field day when she returned from that training seminar.

His sigh was misinterpreted. "Don't you fiddle with me, Mountie," snarled Ford. "I can make your life really miserable."

Fraser bit back a reply to the insult. As long as they were trying to get him to talk, Ray would have a chance to reach the village and end this nightmare. All he knew was that Linda was safe, and that gave him the peace he needed to think of the bizarre situation he was in. He couldn't stop thinking about it. Because something was amiss. Fraser could feel it, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Something was going on, that was for sure. And he was beginning to believe not even the FBI agents knew what was really going on.

On to part 4.