Ice Hunt Page 42

  Matt had had enough. He swung around. “Brilliant? Are you fucking mad? Try monstrous! Do you have any idea what was done to these people? How many were killed? Goddamn it!” He pointed to Maki as he stirred. “Does that look like a damn lab rat?”

  Ogden backed from the bars. “I didn’t mean to suggest—”

  Matt noted the shadows under the doctor’s eyes. Ogden’s hands trembled as they dropped from the bars. Matt knew the man was as tired and frightened as any of them. He didn’t need someone yelling at him. Lowering his voice, he continued: “Someone has to take responsibility. A line has to be drawn. Science cannot ignore morality in its desire to leap forward. We all lose when that happens.”

  “Speaking of losing,” Washburn said behind him, “what’s up with the Delta Force team? Can they take this place?”

  Matt saw the two biology students stir at her question. It was their only hope: rescue. But he also remembered the fierce determination of Admiral Petkov. The Russian commander was not about to surrender, not even against superior forces. Matt had also noted a glint in his eyes, a cold dispassion that frightened the American more than the guns or the grendels.

  Only the boy seemed to warm that edge from the man. Matt glanced at Maki. As with Vladimir Petkov, the child might hold the key to the admiral’s salvation. But such a transformation required time…time they didn’t have. Petkov was a Russian bear cornered in its den. There was nothing more dangerous—or unpredictable.

  Matt turned back to Washburn. “I counted at least twelve soldiers. And the Russians have the advantage of being entrenched in here. It would take a full frontal assault to breach this place, then a bloody, brutal, level-by-level clearing.”

  Magdalene spoke from her cot. “But they’ll still come, won’t they?”

  Matt stared at the small number of survivors. Five of them, six if the child Maki was counted. If the Delta Force team was returning here, it was for more than just a rescue mission. Craig must have heard about the samples. The ultimate success of his mission would require obtaining them.

  Washburn knew this, too. “They aren’t coming for us,” she said, answering Magdalene’s question. She met Matt’s eye. “We’re not the priority.”

  The door to the prison wing opened. Admiral Petkov strode inside, accompanied by the same two guards. The trio approached Matt’s cell.

  Here we go again, Matt thought, standing to face them.

  Petkov spoke with his usual bluntness. “Your Delta Force team blew up the drift station.”

  Matt took a breath to assimilate what had just been said.

  Washburn swore off to the side. “Bullshit.”

  “We recorded the explosion minutes after their helicopter took off.”

  Washburn scowled, but Matt knew Petkov was not lying. It was not his way. Omega had been destroyed. But why?

  Petkov answered his silent question with two words. “Plausible deniability.”

  Matt weighed this answer. He sensed the truth to it. Delta Force teams were covert, operating with minimal supervision, surgical-strike teams. They entered a combat zone, completed their mission, and left no witnesses behind.

  No witnesses…

  Inhaling sharply, Matt realized what this news meant. He stumbled, hitting the back of his legs on the bed, jarring it. The child woke with a start.

  Petkov pointed for a guard to open the cell. “It seems your government seeks the same objective as my own. To seize the research for themselves, and leave no one to claim otherwise. At any and all cost.”

  The cell was opened. Pistols were again pointed at him.

  “What do you want with me?” Matt asked.

  “I want you to stop them both. My father sacrificed all to bury his research. I will not let either government win.”

  Matt narrowed one eye. If what the admiral had related was true—if this truly was a black ops mission—then perhaps he had just found an ally. They shared a common enemy. He faced the admiral. Anger churned in him. If the Delta team had murdered everyone at Omega…it seemed unfathomable, but also horribly possible…he would do what he could to avenge them all.

  He pictured dark eyes, staring at him with love.

  Jenny…

  Fury built in him. He saw a matching determination in Petkov’s eyes. But how far could he trust this cold fellow?

  “What do you propose?” Matt finally choked out.

  Petkov answered icily, “That you bear the white flag. I would talk with this Delta Force team leader, the one who stole my father’s journals. Then we will see where we stand.”

  Matt frowned. “I don’t think Craig will be in the talking mood when he gets here. I imagine he and his team will do all their talking with M-sixteens.”

  “You will have to convince him otherwise.”

  “What makes you think he’ll listen?”

  “You’ll be taking someone with you whose presence he can’t dispute.”

  “Who’s that?”

  Petkov’s eyes settled upon the small boy on the bed.

  7:59 P.M.

  EN ROUTE OVER ICE…

  Through tears, Jenny read the text on her lap. She had no idea what she was saying. She simply translated the Inuktitut symbols in phonetic Russian. It was all she could do to keep from screaming. She knew Craig was listening, recording, seeking some clue.

  Across from her, Delta One continued his vigil by the window. The flames of the incinerated drift station had long faded into the twilight. Before leaving, the helicopter had circled the blast zone. But there had been no survivors.

  Words cut off her recitation, coming over the general radio. “Ice station dead ahead!” the pilot reported.

  “Ready for missile attack,” Craig said. “On my word.”

  Missile attack? Jenny sat straighter.

  “Coordinates locked.”

  “Fire.”

  Before she could react, a hissing explosion sounded from outside the door. A flash of flame accompanied it.

  She leaned forward as the Seahawk banked into the wind.

  Out the window, a spiraling trail marked the passage of a rocket. It struck the peaks to the left of the station entry. Ice and fire blasted upward and rolled out into the open ice fields. A flutter of orange, a tent, flapped up in the gale.

  Jenny knew the target. It was the site from which the Russians had fired rockets at them. It seemed Craig was clearing the field to land the helicopter—and perhaps getting payback.

  Under the roil of steam and smoke, the Seahawk rotored down toward the ice.

  “Ready Team One!” Delta One yelled, startling Jenny.

  The doors on the opposite side swung open. Winds howled into the cabin. The cold bit at her exposed flesh. Then soldiers began bailing out, rappelling down, one after the other. They zipped out of view, vanishing below in seconds.

  “Team Two!”

  The door on Jenny’s side swung open, and the crosswinds tore at her. Nearly losing her grip on the journal in her hand, she clutched it to her chest.

  Men pushed past her, grabbing lines and leaping free as fast as the ropes themselves were unfurled. The cabin emptied out of all but three men, including Delta One.

  “Man the side guns!” the leader barked.

  Already in place, two soldiers swung up huge cannons by the doors.

  “Strafe on my command!” Delta One ordered. “Full perimeter fire!”

  Jenny risked leaning forward to stare below. The smoke from the rocket attack had begun to disperse. Below, she spotted the off-loaded men. White-camouflaged figures scurried and dropped to bellies.

  “Fire!” Delta One ordered.

  The guns roared, chattering, spitting fire. Spent cartridges dropped like brass rain. Below, the ice was torn apart in a wide swath around the men, protecting them.

  A lone soldier, Russian, fled from a hidden bunker in the ice. He was cut in half by the gunfire, staining the ice red like a squashed bug on a windshield. There seemed to be no other survivors out on the ice.

/>   “Take us lower,” Craig ordered the pilot, still on the general line.

  The Seahawk descended, retreating slightly to put the ground forces between them and the mouth of the station.

  Delta One held one of his earphones firmly to his head. “Reports coming in!” he relayed. “Surface is ours! Station’s entrance under heavy guard!”

  “Is it safe to land?” Craig asked.

  “I’d rather keep the bird in the air until the station is taken,” Delta One answered. “But fuel’s a concern. We’ve a long haul back to Alaska. Hold on!” He leaned into his earphone, listening. He pressed his throat mike, conversing with someone below. Finally he pulled up his radio microphone. “Sir, ground teams report movement by the station entry. Someone’s coming out. Unarmed. He’s waving a truce flag.”

  “What? Already? Who is it?”

  The helicopter turned as it hovered. Jenny spotted the figure a hundred yards off. He stood out against the snow, though traces of smoke still smudged across the view. He was wearing a green jacket, bright against the snow. Even across the distance, she recognized the faded coat. She had washed, mended, patched, ironed the damn thing for ten years.

  She could not keep the joy and amazement from her voice. “It’s Matt!” A sob of relief followed.

  The general channel was still open. Craig heard her. “Jen, are you sure?”

  Delta One spoke up from across the cabin. “Sir, there’s a boy with him.”

  Now brought to her attention, she saw the child clinging to Matt’s leg. He kept one arm around the boy; the other held a pole with a scrap of white parka waving from it.

  “Land!” Craig ordered.

  The Seahawk began its descent.

  Delta One urged caution. “Perhaps we should remain airborne until the matter is cleared up.”

  “He’s been sent out as an envoy. We may be able to use this to our advantage.”

  Fear wormed through Jenny’s relief. Since the beginning, she and Matt had been pawns in this game between superpowers. It seemed their duty was not over yet.

  The skids settled onto the ice. Snow swirled and eddied around the craft. The rotors slowed.

  Delta One passed on an order to the pilot. “I want this engine kept hot.”

  “Yes, Commander.”

  Craig squeezed back from the cockpit into the main cabin. “We’ll leave the journals here.” He pointed at Delta One. “They’re going to be your responsibility to guard.”

  “What are you going to do?” he asked.

  “I’m going to meet that man out there. He’s pulled my butt out of the fire often enough. Let’s see if he can do it again.” He turned to Jenny. “I’d prefer you to stay put.”

  “Like hell I will.” She unbuckled her seat harness. They’d have to shoot her to keep her here.

  Craig watched her a moment, plainly judging her sincerity, then shrugged. He probably preferred all his targets together anyway.

  The pair climbed out of the Seahawk and onto the ice. They ducked under the rotors and were met by a trio of Delta Force team members, who were moving forward under an armed escort.

  Jenny barely noticed these others. Her eyes were on the figure standing thirty yards from the station opening. Matt! She had to restrain herself from running toward him. She feared such a sudden action would get them both shot.

  So she kept to the group, flanked and led by the soldiers. They crossed the ice, passing beyond the circle of defense and out into neutral territory.

  Matt was down on one knee, sheltering the boy, his attention on the child. The little guy hugged Matt. He was swaddled from head to toe in someone’s parka, wearing it like a full-length greatcoat. The sleeves hung to the ground. In Matt’s arms, he wiggled around to stare wide-eyed at the approaching party.

  Jenny saw the boy’s face clearly for the first time: the black hair, the large brown eyes, the tiny features. She tripped, her legs going suddenly weak. “Tyler!”

  8:07 P.M.

  OUT ON THE ICE…

  Matt had his hands full with the boy. As soon as they had stepped out of the tunnel and into the wind, Maki had clung to him like an eel. The explosions and roar of the gunship’s 50mm weapons had already spooked the kid. And now out in the open, he acted agoraphobic, panicking at the wind and snow. Matt could guess why. He had probably spent all his young years isolated below, possibly even limited to Level Four. Here in the open, with the entire world spread out around him, he came unhinged.

  He needed something to cling to, an anchor—and that was Matt.

  Matt hardly noted the approach of the others. He had spotted Craig among the soldiers, then had to keep Maki from bolting back toward the station.

  “Tyler!”

  The familiar cry tore him around.

  From out of the group of soldiers, Jenny shoved free. Her eyes were wild, but she quickly collected herself as she stepped out. She recognized her mistake as soon as she uttered it. Pure reflex, Matt understood.

  “His…his name’s Maki,” Matt gasped out as he stood. The child clung to his knee, but Matt didn’t object this time. His legs weak from the relief of seeing Jenny alive, he needed the boy’s support now.

  She rushed at him.

  Matt didn’t know what to expect, cringing slightly at her approach.

  Then she was in his arms, pulling tight to him, her own arms around his neck. It came so naturally that it surprised Matt. She fit to him, as if she always belonged there. It was as if no time had passed between them at all. Drawing Jenny even tighter to him to make sure it wasn’t all a dream, he smelled her hair, the nape of her neck. She was real…she was in his arms.

  She sobbed in his ear. “Back at the base…Papa…”

  Matt stiffened. John wasn’t with her, or on the helicopter. Her father had been left back at Omega. From Jenny’s reaction, Petkov’s earlier report had not been a lie. The place had been blown up.

  “Jenny, I’m so sorry.” Even to him, the words sounded lame. All he could do was offer her his strength, his shoulder, his arms.

  She shook in his grip. Words reached up to him, whispered, meant for his ears only. “It was Craig. Don’t trust him.”

  Matt’s fingers clutched her parka. He stared past Jenny to the figure in the familiar blue parka. He kept his face stoic, pretending he hadn’t heard the words whispered in warning.

  It was all true. Everything.

  He slowly peeled himself from Jenny, but he kept one arm around her.

  Craig stepped forward. “Matt, it’s good to see you alive. But what’s going on? What are you doing out here?”

  Matt fought back the urge to punch the man square in the face. But such an action would only get him killed. To survive from here on out, it would take an artful game of half-truths and lies.

  So first, a lie. “God, it’s good to see you all here.”

  Craig’s tentative grin firmed up.

  “The Russian admiral remains in control down there, but he sent me up here. He figures if you all were going to shoot blindly and ask questions later, then it might as well be one of us Americans that gets killed.”

  “Why did he send anyone?”

  “To parley a truce. To quote the admiral, both sides have half the key to the miracle here. You have the technical notes. He controls the samples. Either is useless without the other.”

  Craig stepped closer. “Is he telling the truth?”

  Matt stepped aside and pushed little Maki between his and Jenny’s legs. The boy kept tight to Matt’s thighs. “Here’s the proof I was sent up with.”

  Craig frowned and bent down to stare closer at the boy. “I don’t understand.”

  Matt shouldn’t have been surprised. Craig had been trained to be single-minded, to tunnel-vision toward the goal and ignore all the rest. Especially the bodies left by the wayside.

  “It’s the boy from the tank,” he explained. “The ice tank that Dr. Ogden activated.”

  Craig’s gaze flicked up to him. “My God, that’s the b
oy? He resuscitated? It actually works?”

  Matt kept himself composed. He couldn’t let the man know that he understood the deadly intent of the Delta Force team. “It worked, but the only surviving samples of the elixir are secured in a hidden vault down below. I’ve seen the place myself. But Admiral Petkov has wired the base to explode. He’ll destroy it all.”

  Craig’s gaze darkened. “What does he want?”

  “A truce. A parley between the two of you. On Level One. He’ll pull his men down below. You can come in with five of your men, armed as you like. But if any harm comes to the admiral, his men have orders to shoot the prisoners and explode the vault. I don’t see that you have much choice. It’s either lose everything or make a pact with this devil.”

  Matt waited, unsure if he had overplayed his hand.

  Craig snorted and turned away. He raised the collar of his jacket and spoke into it, then pulled his hood’s drawstring and held it to his ear. A hidden radio, Matt realized.

  Jenny sidled closer to him. “He’s consulting with the Delta Force commander. The stolen journals are in the helicopter with the man. But what about this parley? Is there anyone we can trust?”

  “The only person I trust is standing next to me.”

  She squeezed his hand. “If we get out of this—”

  “When,” he corrected her. “When we get out of this.”

  “Matt…”

  He leaned in and gently pressed his lips to hers. It wasn’t so much a kiss as a promise of more to come. A promise he intended to keep. He tasted the salt of her tears on her mouth. They would survive this.

  Craig turned to him as more men gathered around him. They readied weapons. “You’re right. It looks like we have no choice but to meet with the bastard.”

  Matt counted Craig’s team. Five. “You have one too many,” he said, nodding to the soldiers.

  Craig crinkled his brow. “What do you mean? You said five.”

  Matt gestured toward Jenny. “She’s coming in with us. You’ll need to get her a sidearm.”