Part 20 (1/2)

”Get below and make sure the generator gets cranked.”

”Aye, aye, Captain.” Williams disappeared.

Hudson toggled switches, punched a keyboard.

Nothing.

d.a.m.n.

The hull vibrated as it pulverized a chunk of ice. But there was a different feel to it.

Hudson knew his s.h.i.+p well.

The Polar Circle was slowing to a stop.

___.

They'd waited until the icebreaker crunched through the pack ice to a complete stop, dead in the water. Then Jaz and ten commandos in Zodiac H-733's bounced through the lane of black water opened in the wake of the stern. Now she stood up in the inflatable as it maneuvered next to the huge rudder of the stricken icebreaker. She'd changed into an anti-exposure worksuit and Lowa boots. Aiming a T-PLS line gun, she shot a t.i.tanium grappling hook to catch the deck rail above, then climbed the Kevlar line to the aft deck. At the rail, she secured a cable boarding ladder and let it unfurl down to her crew.

Armed men began to climb.

___.

Williams raced into the bridge as Hudson was trying to click on his third flashlight. The batteries were as dead as the rest of the electronics.

”Generators are out, too.” The man was out of breath and s.h.i.+vering. He'd had to run up several outdoor companionways instead of taking the bridge elevator. ”What the h.e.l.l's going on? People are starting to panic.”

In the dark, Hudson shook his head in frustration. No power, no communication, no lights, no heat. Already the cold was beginning to seep into the bridge. ”All right. Let's round up everybody, calm them down. Then we can put our heads together and come up with a plan of action.”

”Aye, aye, sir.”

Willliams turned to head for the hatch, but a beam of light speared him, pinning him in place.

”Hold it right there.”

It was a female voice, but rough and husky.

Hudson took a step forward. ”Who the h.e.l.l are you?” He strained to let his eyes adjust to the white shaft of light.

More beams flicked on, all stabbing at the two officers. Hudson could make out the woman now, flanked by two hard-looking men in black Arctic survival gear, all pointing a.s.sault rifles in his direction.

The woman spoke again. ”You must be the captain.” Her tone held a faint note of mockery. She knew she had the upper hand.

Hudson chafed at her arrogance. ”I'm Captain Hudson. Who are you and what have you done to my s.h.i.+p?”

Jaz smiled, pulling down her hood. ”Nothing much. Just an EMP pulse generator. Your electronics are fried.”

Hudson started when he saw the woman's bloated, distorted face, but his eyes flared with anger. ”This is a United States Coast Guard vessel. Have you got any idea what you're doing?”

She laughed. ”I always know what I'm doing. We needed a s.h.i.+p to sink. No time to buy one. So you're it.” She gestured with her rifle. ”And now, Mr. Captain Hudson, it's time we go downstairs and hook up with the rest of the crew.”

Hudson showed her a defiant scowl. ”You really think I'm going to let you sink this s.h.i.+p? I'm not leaving this bridge.”

Jaz shrugged. ”Okay. Your choice.”

She lifted her gun and sprayed Hudson and Williams with bullets. Their bodies. .h.i.t the deck with solid thunks.

She turned to her men. ”Okay, boys, let's roll. We've got work to do.”

FORTY.

Ostrov Gukera Island THE Antilles G-21G Super Goose skidded across the choppy waters of Tikhaya Bay, its pontoons creaming out twin wakes as April throttled back the turbine engines, gradually applying back elevator pressure. Gliding around in a half-circle, the seaplane rocked to a stop. Fat globules of wind-driven rain smacked against Skarda's window, trickling down in branching streamers. Tatters of gray mist obscured what little they could see of the sh.o.r.e. Peering through the canopy, he could just make out the swaybacked hump of Rubini Rock, its blackish-brown flanks blurred and robbed of their color.

During the flight, Flinders had lapsed into an uncharacteristic silence, withdrawing into herself, and now, in the rear seat, she had grown even more quiet as they approached the island. Skarda glanced over at her, seeing the tight line of her mouth and rigid arc of her spine as she stared out the porthole at the mist-shrouded island. Coming to the place where her parents might have died was a palpable weight on her shoulders. It must have been terribly hard, he reflected, for an intelligent, sensitive girl of twelve to lose them, especially in a frigid, lonely outpost like this, so far from home.

Climbing out of the c.o.c.kpit, he looked up at the sky. High above the island the rain clouds were breaking up, revealing open patches of blue Arctic twilight that at this time of the year preceded the deep polar night, but tatters of heavy mist still scudded across his vision. On the surface of the ocean April had already inflated a Zodiac tender. Skarda put his arms up to help Flinders climb down from the cabin, steadying her against the pitch of the inflatable. Even though the temperature had risen to the low twenties, they were wearing Aramark Arctic survival parkas, six-layer gloves, and waterproof boots. Under her coat April had strapped the knife sheath across her chest and stuck the Glock in her waistband. In her right hand she carried the Steyr AUG.

Running the Zodiac up on a beach strewn with black granite pebbles, they climbed out. A bitter wind had sprung up from the southeast, chopping against the exposed skin of their faces, driving with it scurrying flakes of snow. From this vantage point Skarda could see the curling sweep of the coastline more easily. Ochre-and-rust-colored lichen clung in clumps to the beach rocks, looking like random splashes of flung paint, and as the ground tapered upward, deep patches of snow frosted the landscape, giving way to vertical walls of bare rock that rose up to sharp-edged volcanic escarpments whose summits were sheathed in ice. On Rubini Rock thousands of nesting seabirds wheeled, screaming and squawking.

Candy Man had given them two possible locations where the NASA GPR satellite data showed underground caverns large enough to house a n.a.z.i research station. One lay almost in the center of the island, at the highest elevation of a basaltic cliff; the other b.u.t.ted up to an escarpment at the opposite end, in an area of hard-packed perpetual snow. This, they'd decided, would be their best bet.

Following the curve of the beach, it took them over an hour to reach a snow-hummocked rise, pockmarked with small boulders, that angled downward toward a flat rock-strewn beach. Here hundreds of carca.s.ses of arctic animals had washed up on sh.o.r.e, their gleaming white bones flecked with the sc.r.a.ps of dried flesh not gnawed at by scavengers.

The sight made Skarda's blood boil. He glanced at Flinders. Her face had paled to chalk-white and she looked like she wanted to vomit.

In the lead, April started up the rise, then halted. She turned to Skarda. ”Park.”

Making his way over the slippery stones, he came up next to her and stared down the slope that led to a valley-like depression and beyond it, a rocky beach. Next to the hump of a crag-like boulder a human skeleton lay half-buried in snow, its arms thrust out in front of it. Beyond it, toward the sea, the demolished remains of a camp lay scattered over rocks and snow. He could see the sharp angular shapes of more skeletons sprawled in grotesquely contorted positions. Some of the bones were broken off, shattered.

Seeing them, Flinders sucked in a sharp breath.

They scrambled down the hill. Stooping beside the first skeleton, April turned her face up to Skarda. ”It's a woman,” she said. ”Back of her head bashed in.” She studied the shreds of flesh still clinging to the bones and the tattered remnants of clothing. ”Scavengers have gotten to her. But I don't think she's been here all that long.”

Getting to her feet, she moved forward. The beach was pockmarked with craters and littered with sh.e.l.l casings. ”M72 LAW rockets,” she announced, pointing at two khaki-colored tubes lying close to the water. She stooped to pick up a sh.e.l.l casing. ”5.56 NATO round from an a.s.sault rifle.”

Skarda's gaze was dark as he caught her eye. ”Jaz?”

April nodded in a.s.sent. ”It looks like this was a scientific research camp. These people didn't have a chance.”

Despite the insulating coc.o.o.n of her parka, Flinders s.h.i.+vered ___.

The entrance to the ice cave opened exactly where the NASA GPR readout on Skarda's Stealth said it would. Struggling up a snow-covered slope, where their boots cracked through the surface crust and sank deep, they came upon a plateau-like wall of ice, stretching away on both sides like a low mesa. Into the wall a wedge-shaped section at least twenty feet across cut into the wall like an arrowhead, tapering in thick slabs of hard-packed snow to a ragged round hole about ten feet high.

April scanned the terrain, not liking the setup. Only one way in and one way out. ”I'm staying out here.”