James Rollins - Ice Hunt

“The Russians?”

Perry shook his head slowly. “Just get us back to the station.”

“Aye, Captain.” Bratt readied the boat to dive.

Perry tried to put the pieces of the puzzle together in his head. But too many pieces were still missing. He finally gave up. Perhaps he could catch a nap before they reached the drift station. He sensed he’d soon need to be at his most alert.

He opened his mouth, ready to pass command over to Bratt, when the sonar watch supervisor announced, “Officer of the Deck, we have a Sierra One contact!”

Instantly, everyone went alert. Sonar contact .

Commander Bratt moved over to the BSY-1 sonar suite, joining the supervisor and electronic technicians. Perry joined him and eyed the monitors with their green waterfalls of sonar data flowing over them.

The supervisor turned to Perry. “It’s another sub, sir. A big one.”

Perry stared at the screens. “The Drakon .”

“A good bet, Captain,” Bratt said from the nearby fire control station, reading target course and speed. “It’s heading directly for Omega.”

Amanda shed her parka as she left the ice tunnels of the Crawl Space and reentered the main station. The heated interior was welcome after the freeze of the ice island’s heart, but it was still a damp warmth, bordering on the sweltering. She hung the parka on a hook by the door to the Crawl Space.

Dr. Willig kept his coat on, but as a concession to the heat, he unzipped it and threw back the parka’s hood. He also pulled off his mittens, pocketed them, and rubbed his palms. The seventy-year-old oceanographer sighed, appreciating the warmth. “What are you going to do now?” he asked.

Amanda headed down the hall. “A big storm’s coming. If I want to return to Omega, I’ll have to set off now. Otherwise I’ll be stuck here for another day or two until the storm breaks.”

“And I know you don’t want that.”

She noted the smile hovering at the edge of his lips.

“Captain Perry should be returning to Omega,” he said, and nodded to the single guard posted at the door. They had reduced the number of Navy men here, drawing personnel back to the sub for an exercise. “You wouldn’t want to miss that.”

“Oskar,” Amanda warned, but she couldn’t keep a smile from her own lips. Was she so easy to read?

“It’s okay, my dear. I miss my Helena, too. It’s hard to be apart.”

Amanda took her mentor’s hand and squeezed it. His wife had died two years ago, Hodgkin’s disease.

“Go back to Omega,” Dr. Willig told her. “Don’t squander time when you could be together.” By now they had drawn abreast of the Navy seaman guarding Level Four. Oskar glanced to him, then back to Amanda. “Still don’t want to tell me about what’s in there?”

“You truly don’t want to know.”

He shrugged. “A scientist is used to hard truths…especially one as old as this base.”

Amanda continued past the door with Dr. Willig. “The truth will come out eventually.”

“After the Russians arrive…”

She shrugged, but could not keep a bitter edge from her voice. “It’s all politics.” She hated to keep secrets from her own researchers, but even more she knew the world had a right to know what had transpired here sixty years ago. Someone had to be held accountable. The delay in releasing the news was surely just a way to buy time, to blunt the impact, possibly even to cover it up. A deep well of anger burned in her gut.

She reached the inner spiral staircase and climbed the steps. The plates vibrated underfoot. Movement drew her eye to the central shaft around which the stairs wound. A steel cage rose from below and passed their spot, climbing toward the upper levels. She turned to Dr. Willig. “They got the elevator working!”

He nodded. “Lee Bentley and his NASA team are having a field day with all this old machinery and gear. Boys and their toys.”

Amanda shook her head. What was once defunct and frozen in ice was now thawing and returning to life. They wound their way up in silence.

Once they reached the top level, she said good-bye to her friend and crossed to the temporary room she had used the previous night. She gathered her pack and changed into her thermal racing suit. With the dispute between the biologists and geologists settled for the next couple of days, she was free to return to Omega.

As she headed out, a blue-uniformed woman crossed the common area, an arm raised to catch her attention. Lieutenant Serina Washburn was the only female among the Navy crew stationed up here, a part of the base team. She was tall, ebony-skinned, her hair shorn in a crew cut. Looking at her, one couldn’t help but think of the old Amazons of mythology, women warriors of grace and strength. Her demeanor was always serious, her manner quiet. She stepped before Amanda, half at attention, respectful.

“Dr. Reynolds. I have a message relayed from Omega.”

She sighed. What was wrong now? “Yes?”

“A group of civilians landed at Omega this morning and are being held by the security team.”

She startled. “Who are they?”

“There are four of them, including a sheriff, a Fish and Game, and a reporter. Their identities have been checked and confirmed.”

“Then why are they being held?”

Washburn shifted her feet. “With the sabotage at Prudhoe Bay…” She shrugged.

No one was taking any chances. “Do we know why they’re here?”

“They know about this station.”

“How?”

The lieutenant shrugged. “All they’ll claim is that some danger is heading our way. Something perhaps tied to the explosions at the oil fields. They refuse to say more until they can speak to someone in authority. And we’ve been unable to raise Captain Perry.”

Amanda nodded. As the base leader, she would have to look into it. “I was about to head back to Omega anyway. I’ll check into the matter once I’m there.”

She stepped away, but the lieutenant stopped her with a hand. “There’s one other thing.”

“What’s that?”

“The reporter and the others are adamant about coming here. They’re raising a real stink about it.”

Amanda considered refusing such a visit, but then remembered her frustration a moment ago with all the secrecy and politicking surrounding the discovery on Level Four. If a reporter was here, someone to document everything…and a sheriff, too…

She weighed her options. If she returned to interview these strangers, the coming storm would trap them all at Omega. And once Captain Perry was back, he’d block the reporter from coming here. He’d have no choice, tied as he was by the commands of his superior. But Amanda was under no such constraint. She took a deep breath. It was a narrow window in which perhaps to break this political stalemate and allow a little truth to shine before the awful discovery was clouded in rhetoric and lies.

Amanda faced the stern lieutenant. “Have the civilians brought here.”

“Pardon?”

“I’ll interview them here.”

Washburn’s only reaction was to lift one eyebrow. “I don’t believe Lieutenant Commander Sewell will agree with that decision.”

“They can be secured here just as readily as over there. If the commander wants them under guard, I have no objection. He can send as many men with them as he would like. But I want them brought over here before the storm hits.”

Washburn paused a moment, then nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” She turned and headed back across the central common area, aiming for the cabin that housed the station’s shortwave hookup to Omega.

Amanda glanced around the station. Finally someone from the outside world would learn what was hidden here, a small bit of assurance that at least some of the truth would come out.