Ice Hunt (23 page)

“What is taking them so long?” Jenny finally whispered under her breath, teeth clenched.

“Communication is still bad,” Matt said. The head of the security team had left twenty minutes ago to verify their identification. But that meant reaching someone on the coast, who, in turn, would surely need to reach Fairbanks. They could be here all morning.

“Well, who the hell is in charge here?” she continued.

Matt knew what she meant. The entire security team seemed to consist of the six men who had escorted them to the station. Where were the other Navy personnel? Matt remembered the empty polynya and the docking bollards hammered into the ice. “Those in charge must be out in the submarine.”

“What submarine?” Craig asked, perking up from his mug.

Matt explained what he saw from the air. “The old SCICEX stations were serviced by Navy subs. This is surely no exception, especially as deep as we are into the polar pack. I’d bet my eyeteeth that the senior Navy personnel are aboard the submarine on some mission. Perhaps off to help at Prudhoe.”

“What about the head of the research team?” Craig asked. “There has to be a chain of command among the civilians. If we could get someone to listen…”

Since their arrival, a handful of men and women had drifted through to gawk at the newcomers. Their faces were a blend of scientific curiosity and raw need for news of the outside world. One of the men, a researcher with a NASA group, had to be forcibly escorted away by one of the guards.

“I don’t know who’s in charge of the civilian researchers, but I’d wager that person is gone, too.” Matt nodded to their guards. “I’m sure the civilian head of the drift station would’ve barged right past these two.”

As if hearing him, the door burst open—but it wasn’t the head of the base. It was Lieutenant Commander Paul Sewell, head of the security team. He strode over to the table.

Bane rose from where he lay, but Matt placed a hand on the wolf. The dog settled to his haunches, remaining alert.

The Navy leader placed Jenny’s badge and identification on the table. “Your credentials checked out,” he said, and eyed the others. “But your superiors in Fairbanks seemed to know nothing about what you’re doing up here. They said you were on vacation.”

He passed out the other pieces of identification: Matt’s Fish and Game badge, John’s driver’s license, and Craig’s press credentials.

Jenny gathered her badge and ID. “What about my sidearm and shotgun?”

“They’re in lockup until the captain returns.” His tone brooked no argument. Matt respected Lieutenant Commander Sewell’s civil but no-nonsense manner.

Jenny did not. Her scowl grew darker. She did not like being unarmed.

“Sir,” Craig said, “we didn’t come here to start trouble. We heard about your discovery of an abandoned ice base.”

This drew a startled response from the lieutenant commander. “The Russian base?”

Matt practically spit out his coffee.
Russian…
Jenny’s eyes widened in surprise. John settled his own mug of coffee very slowly to the table.

Only Craig kept his face still and unresponsive. He didn’t miss a beat as he continued: “Yes, exactly. I was sent by my paper to report on the discovery. These folks agreed to escort me after I ran into some…um, problems in Alaska.”

Matt regained his composure and nodded. “Someone tried to kill him.”

Now it was the lieutenant commander’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

Matt continued: “A group of paramilitary commandos sabotaged his plane and brought it down. Paratroopers dropped in to finish the job. We barely escaped to reach…Sheriff Aratuk.” He pointed to Jenny.

She nodded. “We’ve been pursued ever since. We even think the explosions over at Prudhoe Bay are somehow connected to all this…to the discovery here.”

“How…?” Sewell’s brow built into ridges. “Wait! Who even told you about the Russian ice station?”

“My sources are confidential,” Craig said, facing the stern lieutenant commander. “I’ll only speak further to someone with authority here. Someone who can act.”

A frown that matched Jenny’s formed on the Navy man’s face. As head of security, he was clearly suspicious of the newcomers. Matt noted Craig eyeing the man, too, trying to read him.

“Before anything can be decided, I’ll need to consult with Captain Perry when he returns,” Sewell finally said.

Passing the buck up the command chain,
Matt thought.

“And when is he due back?” Craig asked.

Sewell just stared at him and didn’t answer.

“Then who’s in charge of the station in the meantime?” Jenny asked. “Where’s the head of the research team? Someone we can talk to?”

The lieutenant commander sighed, clearly straining to straddle the line between civility and authority. “That would be Dr. Amanda Reynolds. She’s…she’s out for the moment.”

“Then what about us?” Jenny demanded. “You can’t hold us here.”

“I’m afraid I can, ma’am.” He turned from the table and left. The guards remained at the door.

“Well, that got us nowhere,” Matt said after a long stretch of awkward silence.

“On the contrary.” Craig leaned closer to the table and kept his voice low. “A Russian ice base. No wonder I was called out here. Something must’ve been found over there. A political hot potato.” He ticked off points on his fingers. “The Navy clamps down the drift station. A gag order silences the scientists. And someone must have learned of my itinerary. Tried to stop me from getting here.” Craig glanced around the table.

“The Russians?” Jenny asked.

Craig nodded. “If it was our own government, they could’ve stopped me through a thousand legal channels. Whoever was after us was keeping their noses low to the ground, trying to go under the radar.”

Matt nodded. “Craig could be right. The commandos certainly had a military background. It could have been a small strike team sent to execute a surgical attack.”

“But why target me?” Craig mumbled. “I’m just a reporter.”

Matt shook his head. “You may be the only one outside this base or a need-to-know chain of command in government who has any inkling of the discovery out here.” He silently ran over the scenario in his head. Something didn’t add up here. What was so important to require such a deadly response?

He stared over at the Navy guards. They stood stiffly, not with the usual casual attentiveness of someone baby-sitting civilians. He had seen soldiers acting the same way prior to a battle. And Sewell’s silence when he asked when the submarine and its captain might return…it jangled Matt’s nerves with warning. If the crew had headed out to Prudhoe Bay to help in salvage and rescue, they’d be gone days. Sewell would’ve arranged rooms for them. The fact that they were still here meant the captain was expected back soon. And if this was true, why
wasn’t
the sub called to help at Prudhoe Bay? This was a disaster in their own backyard. Why had the submarine remained? Why did it
need
to stay here?

Craig spoke up, stating the obvious. “We need to find out what’s going on.”

“I’m open to any ideas,” Matt said.

Jenny met Matt’s gaze. “First we have to devise some way to get over to that Russian ice station. Whatever triggered all this started there.”

“But how?” Matt asked. “We can hardly just walk over there. And they’ve got the plane under guard.”

No one had any answers, but from each person’s worried expression, everyone knew time was running out.

Matt sensed forces larger than any of them swirling down upon this frozen acre of ice. Russians…Americans…a lost base hiding some secret…

What clandestine war had they gotten themselves into?

7

Running Silent

APRIL 9, 8:38 A.M.
ABOARD THE
DRAKON

Viktor Petkov smelled the impatience wafting from the young captain. They had been at all stop for the past hour, engines quiet, resting two meters from the surface. The ice was even closer, less than a meter. An hour ago, they had found a small lead in the frozen cap, too narrow to surface through, really no more than a crack. But it was enough to roll their radio antenna up into the open air.

As instructed, they awaited the
molniya
go-code from Colonel General Chenko of FSB, but the burst transmission from Lubyanka was late. Viktor’s own patience was running thin. He checked his watch again.

“I don’t understand,” Captain Mikovsky said. “We’re due to arrive at the U.S. research station in two days. What are we waiting for now? Another exercise? To plant more
meteorological
equipment?” He emphasized this last, not hiding his sarcasm. The captain still believed the Polaris array was a mere listening post to spy upon the Americans.

So be it.

Across the bridge, the entire crew remained edgy. They had all learned of the past night’s attack on the U.S. oil station in Alaska. None knew what it meant, but they all knew the U.S. forces in the area would be at heightened alert. The waters around here had gotten much warmer, even for a diplomatic mission.

Viktor checked his other arm. The Polaris monitor lay heavy on his wrist. The plasma screen continued to depict the five-pointed star. Each point glowed, awaiting the master trigger.

All was in order.

Overnight, the diagnostic testing of Polaris had gone without mishap, requiring only a bit of calibration. He studied the wrist monitor. The nuclear-powered array utilized the latest sonic technology, capable of shattering the entire polar cap. But when in quiet mode, it also acted as a sensitive receiver. The five points of the star comprised a radar array, a giant ice dish spanning a hundred kilometers. Like ELF systems used in subs, no matter where in the world Admiral Petkov was, his monitor could communicate with the array.

At the corner of the screen, a tiny red heart symbol continued its steady flash in sync with his own pulse.

He raised his eyes just as the officer of the deck burst from the communication shack. “We’ve received a flash message! Marked for Admiral Petkov.”

The clipboard was passed to Captain Mikovsky, who in turn passed it to Viktor.

He took the board a few steps away and opened it. He read down the brief remarks. A cold smile formed on his lips.

URGENT  URGENT  URGENT  URGENT

TOP SECRET   TOP SECRET   TOP SECRET

PERSONAL FOR FLEET COMMANDER

RMKS/

(1) LEOPARD OPS SUCCESSFUL AT PB. EYES LOOKING ELSEWHERE.

(2) GO-CODE AUTHORIZED FOR TARGET ONE, DESIGNATED OMEGA.

(3) PROCEED TO TARGET TWO ONCE SECURE, DESIGNATED GRENDEL.

(4) PRIMARY OBJECTIVE REMAINS THE COLLECTION OF DATA AND MATERIALS FOR THE RUSSIAN REPUBLIC.

(5) SECONDARY OBJECTIVE REMAINS TO CLEAN SITE.

(6) BE WARNED THAT A US DELTA FORCE TEAM HAS BEEN DEPLOYED. INTEL REPORTS IDENTICAL OBJECTIVES ESTABLISHED FOR HOSTILE TEAM. OPERATIONAL CONTROLLER STILL AT LARGE. DELTA MISSION MARKED BLACK BY NSA. REPEAT BLACK.

(7) CHANNELS CONFIRM INTENT ON BOTH SIDES.

(8) DATA MUST NOT FALL INTO HOSTILE HANDS. ALL ACTIONS TO PREVENT THIS ARE AUTHORIZED.

(9) COL. GEN. CHENKO SENDS.

 
BT

 
NNNN

Viktor closed the binder. He reviewed Chenko’s remarks.
Mission marked black by NSA…Channels confirm intent on both sides
. He shook his head. It was the usual semantics of covert operations. Fancy words for the tacit agreement on both sides to the private war that was about to be fought out here. Both governments would wage this war, but neither side would acknowledge it ever happened.

And Vickor knew why.

There was a dark secret both governments wanted forever silenced, and an even darker prize that went with it. Neither side would ever acknowledge its existence, but neither could they leave it untouched. The stakes were too high. The prize, the fruit of his father’s labor, was a discovery that could revolutionize the world.