Ice War (21 page)

A shocked silence spread over them.

“What the hell, Able?” Bowden shouted. “What was that all about? He was human!”

Her own gun was on him now; she seemed to have forgotten the Angels.

“Leading a party of Pukes right up to our front doorstep?” Abel asked. “I don’t think so.”

He began to walk in her direction, his weapon held casually.

“Able’s a traitor,” Price said quietly.

Bowden glanced at her, then back at Able, trying to process too much information at once, Price thought.

Able was just behind Bowden.

“What were you thinking?” Bowden yelled.

“Shouldn’t you be covering these Pukes?” he asked.

“I can’t believe you shot that man,” Bowden said, but her gun swung back to cover the Angels.

“Bowden, he’s a traitor,” Price said.

“You can’t trust anyone these days,” Able said, and now he was right beside Bowden. The snout of his gun came up to her head.

Bowden caught the movement out of the corner of her eye. She turned then froze, shocked into immobility.

“Sorry, Gabby,” Able said, and Price had the feeling that he really meant it as his finger tightened on the trigger.

Monster leaped and fell down the jagged slope of the ridge. As fast as he was, Big Billy was at the bottom before him, yelling to the dogs. They had been lying in a group, huddled for warmth, but at his shouts they jumped to their feet and wrenched at the sled, breaking it free of the ice.

Monster dived on the front as the sled took off.

From behind them, there was a new noise, the buzz of small engines, and two snowmobiles came flying over the top of the ridge, bouncing and crashing their way down the slope, somehow staying upright as they skipped from block to block. Monster recognised the shape. He had seen these in the last Ice War. Single-man craft with a fixed coil-gun at the front. They were deadly against infantry.

One of the machines let out a burst of machine-gun fire, and Monster heard the bullets sizzling through the air around him.

He rolled over onto his stomach and gripped one of the stays at the rear of the sled. He pulled the magnum from its holster. He took quick aim and fired. A spark flew off the armoured front of one of the snowmobiles.

With shouted commands, Big Billy veered the sled left and right, upsetting the aim of their chasers, then whipped the sled around past a small hillock and into an area of rough ice.

“When I say, jump,” Big Billy roared. The dogs seemed telepathically connected to his mind, dodging slabs of ice.

“Jump!” Big Billy yelled, and Monster rolled off the sled, sliding in between two ice boulders and slamming into a small wall.

A few seconds later, the first of the snowmobiles roared past him, but the magnum was ready and steady in Monster’s hands. He fired at point-blank range. The powerful bullet shredded the rubberised tread of the machine as it passed him. The snowmobile slid first one way, then the other, going into a speed wobble that could not be corrected. It flipped and rolled and the second snowmobile, close behind, had to swerve violently to avoid it, hitting a wedge of ice and flying into the air. Liquid sprayed from the side of the machine as Monster’s pistol sounded again, punching through the light armour on the petrol tank. At first there was nothing more, then the leaking petrol must have hit the hot exhaust and the flying snowmobile became a ball of flame, crashing back to Earth, the rider leaping off it, armour on fire.

The rider landed, rolled, took cover and without concern for his flaming battle armour began to lay down coil-gun fire towards Monster. Monster ducked behind the low ice wall as bullets found his position. He slid sideways, seeking an angle.

There was no need. The firing stopped abruptly. The Bzadian, focused on Monster, never saw the dark shape that grew out of the icefloe behind him, nor the shiny knife in its hand.

The thunder of gunfire reverberated from the concrete walls of the sensor station and the rocky cliffs around them.

Able lay on his back; Wall on top of him.

Wall had shouted something in the high language. Price had no idea what, but it was enough to make Able pause and, in that half second when the gun wavered, Wall had hit him, head down, charging at him like a battering ram, knocking him over backwards onto the ice. Able’s shots had gone wild.

Able pushed Wall off him, but Bowden’s boot was on Able’s shoulder, pressing him back down, and it was her gun in his face.

“Stay there,” she said, “while I figure this out.”

Barnard kneeled by Nukilik’s side, checking his pulse, examining the wound. She looked up at Price, and shook her head.

A cold chill moved over Price. This man had tried to help them. His was another death on her conscience. Another face that she knew she would see in her dreams.

Able shifted around, uncomfortable under Bowden’s boot.

“Nothing is what it seems,” Price said. “We look like Pukes, but we’re not. Your friend there looks human, but he’s not either.”

“You’re really Angels?” Bowden asked. “Recon Team Angel?”

They all nodded.

“Then what does that make him?” she asked.

“Fezerker,” Price said.

Bowden ground the muzzle of her gun into the temple of the man on the ground as he reached for his weapon, lying on the ground next to him. She kicked the gun away. “I thought Fezerkers were Pukes,” she said.

“So did we all,” Barnard said.

“Why would humans betray their own kind?” Bowden asked.

“You should ask him that,” Price said.

Barnard took a step towards the hunting rifle that lay next to Nukilik’s body. Around it, the snow was turning pink.

“Can I pick up the rifle?” Barnard asked.

“No,” Bowden said. “I … just … I need time to sort this out.”

“It’s easy,” Barnard said. “Able was about to kill you; we saved your life. We’re Angels; he’s Fezerker. Now can I pick up the rifle?”

Bowden gave her the okay with a short nod of her head. Her own gun shifted a little.

Able spun out from under her boot, pushing the barrel of her rifle away from him. Cat-like, he was on his feet, sprinting out of sight among the rocks of the island even as bullets from Bowden’s gun kicked up puffs of dust around him.

“Let him go,” Price said, as Bowden started to run after him.

“Okay, let’s get inside,” Bowden said. “We’ll lock the place down.”

“What about him?” Barnard asked, looking at Nukilik.

“Leave him there,” Price said, feeling cold and heartless. “The ice will preserve his body. Once we’ve sorted out Able, we’ll come back and make a more permanent arrangement.”

Wall was still lying on the ground at Bowden’s feet. Price reached down and grabbed his arm, hauling him to his feet. “Good work,” she said.

He nodded.

Price took one look back at Nukilik’s body before following Bowden inside. He lay face down in the snow. The pink snow was spreading out in a random, irregular pattern from either side of his chest. A little like wings.

[MISSION DAY 2, FEBRUARY 17, 2033. 1820 HOURS LOCAL TIME]

[OPERATIONS COMMAND CENTRE, THE PENTAGON, VIRGINIA]

Wilton’s phone buzzed.

He checked the screen. It was the operations radio channel that he had routed through to his phone.

“Wilton,” he said, quietly, not wanting to draw attention.

“Wilton, Wilton.” It was Price’s voice; she sounded agitated.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“The tanks to the south, they were decoys,” Price said. “The real attack is to the north, do you understand?”

“Got it,” Wilton said. “Are you at the sensor station?”

“Yes,” Price said. “Bowden is with us. She’s cool. Able got away. Bowden is going to contact ACOG directly to confirm.”

“Okay,” Wilton said. “Tell me how this invasion force has managed to slip past the sensor station. I gotta know, ’cos they’re gonna ask me.”

“I don’t know,” Price said. “Bowden and The Tsar are going to see what they can do to figure it out. You must warn ACOG.”

“I’m sending the message as we speak,” Wilton said, and did so. “Stay on the line.”

“Also, see if you can find a man named Daniel Bilal,” Price said.

“Bilal? I know him. Why?” Wilton said.

“Ask him about Wall,” Price said.

“What about Wall?”

“Just ask him.”

On Wilton’s screen a message flashed up from Bilal.
Can you confirm this?

He quickly typed back.
Angel team are in Little Diomede Station. They confirm presence of Bzadian forces to the north. The attack to the south was a decoy. They want me to ask you about Wall
.

That got an immediate reaction from Bilal. He looked straight over at Wilton and nodded his head. A second later the message came up on Wilton’s screen.
Wall can be trusted
.

“Wall’s good,” Wilton said on the phone. “Bilal confirms it.”

Bilal stood up to get the attention of the others. He raised his hand.

“I’m afraid I have some bad news,” he said. “It appears that the attack to the south was a decoy. The real attack force, as we originally predicted, is passing right now to the north of the islands.”

There was pandemonium for a few seconds, before Whitehead got out, “Are you sure of this?”

“Positive,” Bilal said. “My asset confirms it.”

“Your asset confirmed that there were tanks to the south of the islands,” Russell said. “Leading us to waste most of our supply of missiles. What confirmation do we have of this new assessment?”

“Eyes on the ground,” Bilal said.

“We already have eyes on the ground,” Russell said. “Electronic eyes. They have reported nothing.”

“Those eyes cannot be trusted,” Bilal said.

“What are you saying?” Russell asked.

“That your man on the island, Able, is a traitor,” Bilal said.

“And you have proof of this?” Whitehead asked.

“Not yet,” Bilal admitted.

“I’m afraid we’re going to need a little more than the say-so of some undisclosed spy,” Gonzales said.

“I have Gabrielle Bowden on channel seven two,” Watson said. “Her vocal patterns are showing stress signatures. She says she has Angels in the station with her.”

“Recon Team Angel?” Russell asked.

“I think that’s what she means, yes, sir,” Watson said.

“These are your precious assets?” Whitehead asked, turning abruptly to face Bilal.

“I had no choice,” Bilal said.

“The oversight committee will decide that,” Whitehead said. “But that can wait. Ask Bowden about this invasion force.”

“I already did,” Watson said. “Her only information comes from the Angels. She has no independent confirmation and no Bzadian vehicles are showing on any sensors. But she also told me that Able just tried to kill her.”

There was a shocked silence in the room.

“Enough proof?” Bilal asked mildly.

“Bilal, you’re going to have to bring me something more than this,” Whitehead said. “Get back to your Angels. Get us some photographic evidence, something, anything.”

Wilton found himself grinding his teeth. What was wrong with these people?

“We don’t have the time,” Bilal said.

“Give me a reason to commit our remaining defences,” Whitehead said. “And you’d better be quick.”

Bilal glanced at Wilton, but did not message him. There was no need. Wilton had heard it all.

“Gotta get us some proof,” Wilton said on the phone. “They’re not buying what you’re selling.”