Part 16 (1/2)

SOUTH-EAST ICELAND,

SAt.u.r.dAY 30 JANUARY, EVENING

'Is he dead?'

She could hear nothing but static.

'Is Elias dead?' Kristin shouted into the phone. 'Is he still with you?'

The connection was very bad and only the odd word was audible; Julius the leader of the rescue team kept breaking up. She was standing out in Jon's entrance hall, holding a heavy, old, black telephone receiver and pressing her forehead against her arm and the wall above the phone. She closed her eyes tightly, concentrating on trying to hear what Julius was saying. Jon and Steve were in the kitchen. Steve was on his feet.

'Julius!' Kristin shouted.

'Heli... n't... yet,' she heard him say. '... s... dropping... doctor on the team. Elias... alive.'

'Is he alive? Is Elias still alive?'

'... hanging in... Coast Guard helicopter's on its way. The storm... pretty much... down.'

'Are you going to look for the soldiers?'

'... es... find people...'

'I can hardly hear you so I'm going to tell you this, then hang up. The American soldiers are probably no more than about ten to fifteen kilometres from the edge of the glacier, directly above the farm of Brennigerdi. They're armed, so be careful. They're digging a German plane out of the ice. It's up to you what you do but these men may be extremely dangerous. We're at the foot of the glacier now and we're going to climb up from this side. Hopefully we'll meet you up there.'

Again, the line filled with the hiss and crackle of empty s.p.a.ce, so she put down the receiver and rejoined Jon and Steve in the kitchen.

'I think he's still alive,' she said, heaving a sigh.

The news had given her a renewed spark of hope, a new burst of strength to carry on. The relief was indescribable; she knew she could not have borne it had he died. Admittedly, the connection had been very poor but she would allow herself no doubts; she was convinced that Julius had managed to save her brother's life.

'I think they're planning to pay the soldiers a visit. We'll try to rendezvous with them up there.'

'Good,' Jon said. 'I can give you detailed directions. It's not hard from here.'

'Kristin, can I have a word?' Steve said, and asked Jon to excuse them. They went into the sitting room. 'Are you absolutely sure you want to do this?' Steve said. 'The rescue team will sort things out. They'll inform Reykjavik what's going on. Won't you wait and see what happens? Going up there ourselves could mean taking an unnecessary risk. There's nothing more we can do.'

'I want to see them with my own eyes, Steve. I want to see what kind of people they are. And I want to make sure they don't get away with what they've done. I have to be on the spot to be certain of that.'

Steve was about to object when she went on.

'You lot can't be allowed to play your war games wherever you feel like it.'

'What do you mean ”you lot”?'

'You saw those men at the pub. You know what they've done on the glacier. What kind of people would sanction that sort of brutality?'

'You came to me, Kristin, don't you forget that.'

'I came to you for information.'

'And help. That's the point. You just can't stand the fact.'

'That's bulls.h.i.+t!'

'No. I know that att.i.tude. We're the invaders. We're the military power. We fight in wars. We're the bad guys. But as soon as anything goes wrong, we're expected to save the day. We're welcome to pump billions into your banana republic, yet you regard us as no better than thugs, fit only to be kept behind a wire fence. We're welcome to intervene in world wars started by Europe and keep an eye on the Russians and hold down the Arabs but the s.h.i.+t hits the fan the moment...'

'f.u.c.k you, Steve. Don't be so sanctimonious. You're the guys who are forever seeing Reds under the bed, who drove Chaplin and all the rest out of the country.'

Steve looked at her in her borrowed clothes, the black shadows of strain and exhaustion beneath her eyes, her implacable expression. He knew he would not be able to dissuade her from going up to the glacier whatever he said. She had come too far to stop now.

'I am going up to the glacier.'

'You'll be taking on armed soldiers, Kristin.'

'The rescue team will help. They can hardly ma.s.sacre all of us. Anyway, Julius has alerted Reykjavik. They won't be able to hide what they're up to for much longer.'

'Is everything all right?' asked Jon, appearing at the sitting room door. The old man had largely kept to himself since they returned from the stable and Kristin had wondered if he was suffering from a conflict of loyalty towards Miller. Maybe he felt guilty for having a.s.sisted the Americans and kept quiet about the fact.

'Everything's fine,' Kristin rea.s.sured him. 'What about you? Is everything all right with you?'

'What does that matter?' Jon asked. 'I don't have much time left.' He said this without any sense of regret, as if it were just another fact of life he had resigned himself to.

'But are...'

Jon interrupted; he did not want to talk about himself.

'If you mean to go up to the glacier you should rest for an hour or two,' he said. 'You're welcome to lie down in Karl's room.'

Kristin nodded reluctantly. She did not feel tired, despite not being able to remember when she last slept, but it made sense to rest a little now. Jon escorted them upstairs to a room off the landing with a large mattress and a desk; there was yellow linoleum on the floor and the walls were lined with books. It felt cool compared to the overpowering heat downstairs.

Kristin lay down on the bed. Realising that Steve intended to lie on the floor, she s.h.i.+fted to make room for him. He stretched out beside her. She could not relax. When she closed her eyes she could feel the fatigue creeping up her legs like an anaesthetic and spreading through her body.

'Thanks for your help, Steve,' she murmured.

'It's nothing,' he replied.

She opened her eyes and turned to him.

'It is. You didn't have to help me. You could have sent me packing, forgotten the whole thing. I don't deserve any favours from you.'

'What, a damsel in distress?'

She laughed quietly. 'Yes, and that makes you the knight in s.h.i.+ning armour.'