Yellowstone Standoff by Scott Graham Page A

explained as she counted five beacons into Chuck’s cupped hands. “One for each member of your group. Required equipment as of this year, along with the camp satellite phone.” Each beacon had a small sticker naming a member of Chuck’s group. “Attach the beacon corresponding with the correct recipient to each of your packs—” she flattened her lips “—fan club members included. The beacons are to remain with you at all times. When the button is pressed and held for three seconds in the event of an emergency, a distress signal and locational coordinates will be sent via GPS, the Global Positioning System.” Sheslitted her eyes at Chuck. “You’ll make certain your daughters understand what ‘in the event of an emergency’ means, do I make myself clear?”
    â€œCrystal.”
    Back at the truck, Chuck clipped the appropriate beacons to zipper pulls on his, Janelle’s, and the girls’ daypacks. He wrestled Rosie into her rain jacket, and they all walked across the parking lot to the dock, where they left their duffles with the growing gear pile. They returned to the emptied truck for their daypacks just as Clarence sped into the parking lot. He slid his dented hatchback to a stop, raising a cloud of dust, and hopped out.
    â€œCan I help unload?” he asked.
    â€œJust finished,” Chuck told him.
    â€œYessss.” He struck a pose, thumbs raised at his sides, pelvis pumping. Chuck handed him a beacon.
    The five of them headed to the boats, their hiking boots echoing on the dock’s thick planks. Clarence added his own armful of duffles from his hatchback to the stack on the dock. A pair of park staffers loaded the gear into the nearer of the two boats. The staffers lined the stern of the craft with the plastic storage containers, piled the duffles on top, and strapped the mound into place.
    Kaifong, from the Drone Team, wandered up to Clarence. They struck up a conversation, her smooth face breaking open in a wide grin at his banter within seconds. She belly-laughed along with him a moment later.
    Chuck rolled his eyes at Janelle. “Your brother,” he said to her out the side of his mouth.
    â€œYou’re the one who hired him. And let’s remember: he’s the reason you and I met.”
    â€œThat’s one thing in his favor. In fact, that may be the only thing.”
    The park staffer who’d loaded the boat took up his position in the windowed wheelhouse. The man turned a key in the ignition, and the boat’s inboard engine coughed to life, then purred with a guttural murmur.
    Martha unhooked the heavy ropes that secured the stern of the vessel to the dock and tossed them into the back of the boat. The pilot shifted the engine into gear. Diesel exhaust drifted across the water, acrid and pungent, as the boat chuffed toward the open water beyond the harbor mouth.
    â€œGreetings,” the other staffer said to those waiting on the dock.
    The scientists turned their attention to the staffer, a woman in her mid-forties with collar-length brown hair, her bangs pressed to her forehead by a dark green baseball cap emblazoned with the arrowhead-shaped National Park Service logo.
    The woman stood below the dock in the open stern of the second boat. “I’ll be master and commander of your cruise to the southeast arm trailhead,” she told them. “I understand this will be the first time most of you have crossed Yellowstone Lake.” Her sparkling green eyes found Carmelita and Rosie. “Certainly for the two of you, am I right?”
    Carmelita studied the laces of her hiking boots while Rosie clapped her hands and crowed to the woman, “I’m going on a boat ride!”
    The pilot beamed. “That’s right.” Her brows drew together. “Most people think the biggest danger in Yellowstone National Park is the wildlife. But did you know Yellowstone Lake actually is the single most