James Rollins - Ice Hunt

Matt interrupted his report. “You said the explosion would be small . That’s the part I want to know about. How small?”

He was answered with a shrug. “Small for a nuclear device. But it’ll crack this island like a hard-boiled egg. If it blows, we’re all dead, no matter what pulse it sends out.”

“Can you deactivate it?”

The sergeant shook his head. “The trigger is based on subsonics. It’s tied to an external detonator. Unless we can get the abort code to turn this thing off, this baby’s going to blow in”—he checked his watch—“in fifty-five minutes.”

Craig rubbed his left temple. “Then we need to find the admiral. He’s our only chance.” His gaze settled on the frightened youth at his feet. He nodded to the soldier who had kicked the man. “Find out what he knows.”

The prisoner must have understood. He babbled in Russian, terrified, his hands still on his head.

Matt stepped between the prisoner and the soldier. “Don’t bother. I can find Petkov. I know where he must be holed up.”

Craig turned to him. “Where?”

“Down on Level Four. I’ll have to show you.”

Craig narrowed his eyes, glancing between the youth and the shaft. “All right. I doubt this fellow knows anything anyway.” He pulled out his pistol and shot the man in the head.

The retort was loud in the silent station. Skull, brains, and blood splattered across the floor.

“Jesus Christ!” Matt yelled, stumbling back as the blast echo died. “Why did you do that?”

Craig’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t play me for a fool, Matt. You know why.” He headed toward the shaft, waving for a pair of soldiers to flank him. “It’s either us or them. Pick sides and let’s go.”

Matt remained frozen but stared toward Jenny, who had twisted from the body, shielding the boy.

The gunshot had sent the boy into another bout of wailing. Jenny held him tightly.

Matt stepped over and leaned down, hugging them both. “Go,” she whispered, defying her own heart’s desire. She wanted him to stay with them. “But watch your back.”

A small nod. He understood her. The biggest danger right now was the bomb. Once that was nullified, they’d find some way to survive both the Russians and the Delta Force strike team.

Matt stood, shouldering his rifle.

Jenny closed her eyes, not wanting to see him leave. But as he stepped away, she opened her eyes. She watched his every movement: the set of his shoulders, the length of his stride. She drank him in, not knowing if she’d ever see him again, regretting the waste of bitter years.

Then they were gone. Two guards watched the shaft. Otherwise she was alone with the gently sobbing boy. She comforted him, as she had not been able to comfort Tyler. She ran fingers through his hair, whispered wordless sounds to soothe.

Across the way, the two guards by the stairs talked softly together. There was no more gunfire, no more explosions. Smoke still hazed the level. Through the oily fog, the lone beacon still shone, beating like a titanium heart, counting down.

As she cradled the boy, a voice whispered behind her, ghostly and vague. She was not even sure she heard it. Then her name was spoken.

“Jenny…can you hear me?”

She cautiously glanced behind her. She did not recognize the voice. It came from an overturned set of electronics.

“Jenny, it’s Captain Perry of the Polar Sentinel .”

Perry stood in the communication shack by the bridge. He spoke into the UQC underwater telephone. “If you can hear me, move toward the sound of my voice.”

As he waited, he switched to the shipboard intercom. He hailed the Cyclops chamber. “John, can Amanda see Jenny on the monitor? Is your daughter responding?”

A short pause, then an answer came through. “Yes!” He heard a father’s hope in the man’s voice.

For the past five minutes, they had waited, spying with the DeepEye until Jenny was alone. Earlier, Perry had eavesdropped on communication between the station and the Drakon through the underwater phone. He had hoped the rubber landline that draped into the ocean had not been severed by the blast.

“Jenny, we can see you with our sonar. Is there any way you can transmit? There should be a receiver. Just like an old-fashioned phone. If you find it, simply talk into it.”

Perry waited, praying. He didn’t know what help they could offer, but he needed to know the situation in the station to formulate a plan.

The line remained quiet.

C’mon…we need some break. A bit of luck .

The silence stretched.

Jenny clutched the telephone receiver in her hand. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. The cord was cut. There was no way to communicate out. She wanted to bang the handset on the ground in frustration. Instead she simply set it down.

So far the two guards remained busy with their own discussion. She kept one arm around little Maki, not wanting to attract attention.

The captain’s voice returned. “There must be a problem at your end. But we’re monitoring all means of communication coming from the station. We have all our ears up. You simply need to find a radio of any sort. Even a walkie-talkie. Our ears are very good out here. Get to it. But don’t let any of the Delta team see you.”

Jenny closed her eyes.

“Just know we’re watching you. We’ll do what we can to help.”

She listened to his confidence, but it shed from her like water off a seal’s fur. Even if she could reach a radio, what good would it do? How could they help?

She stared at the blue lights circling around and around the titanium sphere. A sense of despair and hopelessness settled over her. She was too tired to fight any longer. She had been up almost two days straight. The constant terror and tension had burned all substance from her. She felt hollow and empty.

Then a new voice whispered from the tiny speaker. “Jenny, we’re here. We won’t leave until we get you all out of there.” She barely heard the words, it was the voice that held her attention: the familiar slight slurring, the drawled consonance.

“Amanda…” She was naming a ghost.

“I have someone who wants to speak to you.”

There was a pause during which Jenny sought to make sense of it all.

“Honey…Jen…”

Tears flowed, filling the hollow space in her heart. “Papa!”

Her outburst drew the guards’ attention. She leaned over the boy, speaking to him, covering her mistake.

Behind her, her father spoke to her…alive! “Do as Captain Perry says,” he urged her. “We won’t leave you.”

Jenny hunched over the boy, rocking, hiding her sobs. Her father still lived. The miracle of it pushed back her despair. She would not give up.

She lifted her head and stared over to the dead Russian teenager. From the upper pocket of his fatigues, a black walkie-talkie protruded.

Jenny stood up, pulling the boy in her arms. As she paced with Maki, softly humming, she edged closer to the body. Once near enough, she waited until the guards’ backs were turned. Then she darted down, snatched the walkie-talkie, and sprang back up.

She hid the radio where no one would think to look.

But what now?

Across the room, the titanium sphere continued its deadly countdown. There could be no rescue until that threat was addressed.

It was all up to the man she loved.

Matt led the way down the long curving hall of frozen tanks.

Craig followed with his two men. Other members of Delta Force manned key positions throughout this level. With all the remaining Russians executed, the base was once again an American station…all except for one Russian admiral.