Ice Storm (34 page)

The wind howled in my ears. Snow fell at a rapid clip. A cold breeze brushed against my face. For the first time in hours, my fingers and toes grew cold. I wiggled them but it didn't help.

The coldness spread through my limbs. It worked its way into my torso. I started to shiver.

I swung into the cockpit. It was a tight squeeze but I managed to make it work. Reaching up, I grabbed a long lever. I pulled it toward me until the canopy snapped shut. There were two sets of seat belts. Beverly and Graham buckled themselves into one of them. I took the other one.

I felt a small jolt as the rocket fired up. The seat started to quake. A loud rumbling noise pierced the air.

The
Amerika-Rakete
shook violently. My body trembled. Ripples ran through my cold cheeks like waves in an ocean.

The rumbling noise was almost deafening. The shaking increased to an unbearable level. The pressure increased and my body felt like it was about to be splattered against the canopy.

The rocket jolted again. The back of my skull slammed into the headrest.

"Hang on," Graham yelled. "Here she goes."

The
Amerika-Rakete
quaked. Shockwaves passed all the way through me, from my head to my toes.

Then the quaking ceased. I felt a sudden, freeing sensation.

I looked through the canopy. The upper edges of the silo looked closer than I remembered. Seconds later, we shot past them and soared into the sky.

Graham slapped his knee and let out a war whoop. Beverly exhaled a long breath. And I just sat there, stunned beyond belief.

We climbed a few thousand feet into the air. The wind seemed to increase as we gained height. Then the booster rocket burned out and fell away.

The shaking settled down even further. The rumbling noise dissipated. Eventually, Graham leveled off the rocket and we hovered for about a minute on a horizontal plane.

I curled my head to the side. Through the transparent canopy, I saw the hazy edges of the Mühlig-Hofmann Mountains. They were shrouded in snow and mist, looking more like a fantasy than a reality.

Graham took a few minutes to learn the controls. Then he directed us away from the mountains.

"Not bad," I said. "A little bumpy though. How's she handling?"

"Like a dream." Graham gave me a wily grin. "If we make it out of here in one piece, what do you say we take her with us?"

I chuckled. "It's a deal."

We flew for several minutes. My ears started to warm up. So did my fingers and toes. The heat spread to my torso.

Graham cleared his throat. "I see them."

I perked up. "Already?"

He nodded at the canopy.

I leaned forward. Despite the snow, I saw a small vehicle on the horizon. "It's alone. Must be a straggler."

"Good," Beverly said. "It'll give us a chance to test our guns."

I reached into my satchel and pulled out my binoculars. "That's going to be tougher than it looks. They've spotted us." I pushed the lenses close to my eyes. "Aaron prepared for everything. His men are getting out missiles. Anti-aircraft missiles."

Chapter 101

Beverly snatched the binoculars from me and raised them to her face. "Those aren't ordinary missiles. They're laser-guided shoulder-launched surface-to-air missiles."

"What's the difference?" Graham asked.

"They're extremely easy to use. Once they're in the air, the operator uses joysticks to aim lasers. The missiles fly along laser beams until they hit their target. It's like a video game."

"Can we jam their signals?"

"Unfortunately, no. The missiles don't use data links."

"Do the operators have to keep a bead on us for the lasers to work?"

"Yes, it's a manual process."

I glanced at Graham. "Think you can evade their lasers?"

"I hope so." He gripped the control stick. "Hang on."

The aircraft's nose turned upward. We started to climb into the sky.

"What are you doing?" Beverly called out.

"Gaining altitude," he said. "The snow's still plenty thick. If we get high enough, they won't be able to see us. And if they can't see us, they can't hit us."

The aircraft rose higher and higher. Then Graham shifted the control stick, sending us zooming to the side. Moments later, a couple of smoke trails appeared to our northeast. Within seconds, the wind swept them out of existence.

"Nice move," Beverly remarked. "What're you going to do for an encore?"

"How do you feel about fireworks?" he asked.

"Theirs or ours?"

"Ours."

The plane's nose dipped downward.

"Need help firing the guns?" I asked.

"Nah." He shook his head. "The controls are at my fingertips. Those bastards are mine."

He tilted the
Amerika-Rakete
toward the ground. We shot forward at tremendous speed.

Beverly lifted the lenses back to her eyes. "I see seven people. They're loading missiles." She breathed deeply. "Maybe we should rethink this."

"Almost there." Graham pushed the control stick. The nose dipped at a steeper angle.

I stared through the canopy. The snow-covered ground was coming up much faster than I'd expected. "Dutch …"

He shifted the control stick again. "Just another second."

We shot through the air, heading at breakneck pace toward a fatal collision.

I braced myself. "Dutch …"

The plane jolted. Gunfire spat out of the cannons. Decades-old bullets stitched the ice. The soldiers reeled backward. Their arms and legs shot out in crazy angles. Then they collapsed into the snow.

"Nice aim," Beverly said. "You got them. Now, how about we straighten this thing out?"

"I'm working on it," he shouted.

We picked up speed. The ground got closer and closer. Forces pressed on my body. They thrust me deeper into my seat. They pushed my cheeks toward my ears. I found it difficult to keep my eyes open.

The
Amerika-Rakete
rumbled. The nose tipped upward. The pressure intensified. My eardrums popped.

The nose eased into a horizontal position. We zoomed at high speed, less than a hundred feet over the ice.

I inhaled through my nose, exhaled through my mouth. It felt like a giant block of ice had been lifted from my chest.

Graham let out a long breath. "Wow."

Beverly's shoulders sagged. "I didn't think we'd make it."

"Neither did I."

We gained some altitude. I took the binoculars back from Beverly and looked out of the canopy. "I see a truck and a Sno-Cat."

"Which way?" Graham asked.

"Northwest of here. They're moving at a decent clip." I paused. "I see another truck ahead of them. It's parked."

The rocket jolted. Our speed started to drop. "Something's wrong," Graham said. "We're losing altitude."

"But their rockets missed us," I replied.

"This thing is seventy years old. We're lucky we got it off the ground." Graham studied the landscape. "Where should I put her down?"

An idea formed in my head. "Near that truck we just passed."

Beverly gritted her teeth. "Try not to crash, okay?"

He made a strange face. "Quick question for you."

"What's that?"

"How the hell do I land this thing anyway?"

Chapter 102

"Are you sure we're straight?" I shouted. "It feels like we're tipping to the right."

"That's because we are," Graham said tightly.

I leaned my head back and stared at the falling snow. We were losing altitude at a dizzying pace. And the lack of a proper runway didn't make me feel any better.

Graham pressed a button. I heard a rush of wind. "Landing gear deployed," he said. "Not that it'll help much on this surface. You might want to brace yourselves for impact."

The ground came up quickly. I steeled my body just as the rocket struck the ice. It jolted in furious fashion. Then it bounced and started to slide. We slid for a long ways before the
Amerika-Rakete
settled into the snow.

I let the air out of my lungs. "You did it."

Graham's hands remained locked on the control stick. "Was there ever any doubt?" he said dully.

I pulled the lever next to me. The canopy sprung open. Icy air and snowflakes careened against my face.

I unbuckled my seatbelt. Then I pulled myself out of the seat and dropped to the ground.

I ducked my head and rolled. Springing to my feet, I helped Graham and Beverly exit the rocket. Then I took out my binoculars and stared across the landscape. In the distance, I saw the parked truck and the seven dead bodies.

"I hate to leave her here like this." Graham gave the rocket a forlorn glance. "What if someone tries to take her?"

"I doubt that'll be a problem." Swiftly, I hiked across the snow.

I recalled everything I'd seen, everything I'd heard, everything I'd sensed. My body was on the verge of exhaustion. But anger boiled deep within me. It pushed me to keep going.

Beverly hurried to catch up with me. "Where do you think they're going?"

"Back to where this all began." I pointed north. "To the Ekström Ice Shelf."

Chapter 103

The mighty Ekström Ice Shelf, framed by thick snow and curling waves of water, stood proudly before him. Jenner allowed a small smile to cross his face as his Sno-Cat pulled to a stop. It was more than just a scenic ice cliff. At that particular moment, the shelf felt like a finish line at the end of a particularly grueling race.

He opened his door and stepped outside. A brisk wind sailed past him, causing a flurry of snowflakes to jump into the air. The swirling snow surrounded him completely. It felt strangely alive, as if it had weight and form.

He walked toward the shelf. The swirling snow followed him like a pack of bees. He tried to wave it away, but it refused to leave.

Behind him, he heard the second truck pull to a stop next to the first truck. He looked around for the third truck but it was nowhere in sight. He scowled under his breath. What was taking them so long?

Men—his men—exited the vehicles. They were in good spirits, laughing loudly and carrying on like college kids. Anger welled up inside his chest. "Form up," he shouted. "I want to be moving crates in ten minutes."

He shifted his feet. His foot plunged into space.

Jenner yanked himself away from the cliff. He stumbled a few steps before catching his footing. Then he glanced over his shoulder.

The shelf ran straight down, shooting through the icy waters. Nearby, he saw the wreckage of the cargo ship. He also noticed the ice docks. They had survived the explosion largely unscathed. A small submarine sat patiently next to them.

He'd used the
Desolation
to bring trucks and equipment to Antarctica. But the Amber Room was far too important to be extracted on a ship owned by someone else. So, Jenner had used his contacts and vast resources to procure a submarine.

He'd had no real desire to destroy the
Desolation
or kill its crew. But he couldn't risk anyone knowing about his operation. Thus, he'd ordered the placement of explosive devices.

Of course, things hadn't gone perfectly. Reed had managed to save Johnny Richards from the ship. By that time, Jenner's men had already vacated the area. So, he'd taken matters into his own hands, sneaking into the clinic and putting an end to the man's life.

Overall, it hadn't been an easy operation. But now that he possessed the Amber Room, he knew his efforts had been worth it.

The air picked up speed and started to howl. Jenner strained his ears, but he couldn't hear anything over the blistering wind. Where was that third truck?

The swirling snow left him. It spun away, heading toward the vehicles. Jenner wiped powder off his face. He still couldn't hear much. His visibility remained poor.

He marched toward the caravan. Under his watchful eye, numerous crates were removed from the second truck. Each one contained several panels from the Amber Room, packed carefully so as to avoid any damages. Stepping with extreme caution, the soldiers walked them across the snowy expanse and deposited them near the cliff.

Several cryocontainers were removed from the first truck. His engineers had salvaged them from Kirby's basement along with Rupert's body. He had serious doubts about Holly's ability to revive the dead. But that was her business. All he cared about was her ability to harvest the
Großen Sterbens
bacteria.

Jenner's brow furrowed, forming thick ridges on his forehead. "Has anyone seen Holly?"

The soldiers frowned. They gave each other confused looks.

A gust of wind blasted Jenner's side. He quickly realized the problem. The air was almost deafening. "Has anyone seen Holly Whitlow?" he shouted at the top of his lungs.

The soldiers checked among themselves. They didn't say anything but Jenner noticed them holding their weapons a little more firmly. He swore silently to himself.

"I want two teams," Jenner yelled. "The first team will look for Holly. The second team will set up the pulley system and begin lowering everything to the docks."

The men burst into action. A few of them raised their rifles and fanned out across the area. Slowly, they worked their way out from the vehicles.

The second group broke down a crate and removed a bunch of heavy supplies. Then they constructed a minimal yet powerful pulley system that had been specially designed for the situation.

Jenner watched them work out of one eye. He kept the other eye moving about the landscape. Something about the snow bothered him. He couldn't put his finger on it. It just looked and felt peculiar.

The swirling snow grew wider in scope. It spread across the terrain, engulfing the vehicles near the cliff. One by one, the soldiers vanished into the white powder.

Jenner waited. After a minute, he started to tap his foot. At the two-minute mark, his neck tensed up.

Finally, he couldn't take it any longer. He withdrew his pistol and dropped into a crouch.

The snow engulfed him as he crept to the south. It attacked his eyes, plugged his nose. His visibility dropped. His sense of smell vanished.