Brett Battles - Exit 9

Once they arrived at the CF Guest Quarters, he told the team what he’d decided. “We’ll have to split up. Four in one, three in the other, with Gagnon in the plane.”

Chloe nodded in agreement, but Pax didn’t look as comfortable with the idea.

“The weather isn’t giving us a choice,” Ash said to him.

“I know. It’s the decision I’d make, too, but I still don’t like it.”

Ash nodded. He felt the same way. “I want you to head up the second group. Browne, Solomon, and Wright will go with you. Chloe and Red will be with me. Which island do you want?”

“You’re the boss. Which one do you want?” Pax asked.

Before Ash could respond, Chloe said, “We’ll take Yanok.”

They all looked at her.

“If you know something, you should tell us,” Ash said.

She shook her head. “Just a feeling.”

Ash stared at her a moment longer. He knew firsthand that her instincts were far better than average, but kept the thought to himself. “Okay. Gagnon, you’ll fly the first group out to Amund Ringnes in-” He looked at his watch. “-six hours. As soon as you get back, you’ll take us to Yanok. Anyone have any questions?”

There were none.

“Then that’s it, I guess. Tomorrow we start what we came here to do. No pressure, but the whole human race is hanging in the balance.”

“There is that, isn’t there?” Pax said.

Security had always been a priority for the Project. The last thing they wanted was for Bluebird to be discovered. They had come close already with the men who’d made it all the way onto the island, but it seemed as if Major Ross’s diversionary tactics had been successful in cutting off any trail that might have led back to their headquarters.

From even before they had taken full control of the facility on Yanok, they had stationed a two-man observation team in Grise Fiord. The men-Rogers and Perry-posed as climatologists for a European consulting group, and had slowly worked their way into the tolerance of the locals, if not their trust.

Because of this, whenever something happened in Grise Fiord, they heard about it almost right away, like everyone else in town. This was particularly true of new arrivals.

When the news got around that evening about a jet touching down with a group of scientists, Rogers had been having a beer with a few of the local residents. Upon hearing the story, he casually finished off his Molson’s and excused himself for the night.

He did not, however, return home. Instead, he took the cold bumpy drive out to the airstrip.

Just like he’d been told, there was a private jet sitting off to the side. They didn’t get a lot of traffic out here, especially not jets. Usually those who arrived in one were oil and energy people looking for a new resource to exploit.

Unable to recall ever seeing this particular plane before, he wrote down the tail number so someone back at Bluebird could run it through the system. Next, he went to see if the plane might be open. He wasn’t worried about being seen. Chances were he was the only one outside for a thousand miles in any direction. The aircraft, however, was locked up.

He drove back into town and woke up Perry. Together they headed over to the building the supposed scientists were using for the night.

All the lights inside were off, so it was a pretty good bet that everyone was asleep. Over a period of time, he and Perry had been able to make keys to all the buildings in town as a precaution. Not that they needed them often. There was no crime up here, so most places were seldom ever locked.

That message had obviously not been passed on to the new arrivals yet since the door to the CF Guest Quarters was secured. Rogers thought for a moment, bringing up a layout of the building in his mind. If he remembered correctly, there was a long, narrow mudroom on the other side of the main entrance, then another door that opened into the central room where everyone would be sleeping.

Easy enough.

He found the appropriate key from his master ring, slipped it into the lock, and turned it. The door opened with barely a protest. He motioned Perry in first then followed.

The front room was pretty much empty. Unfortunate. He’d been hoping their luggage would be there. Having no other choice, he moved quietly to the other door, listened for a second, then turned the knob and pulled the door open.

Chloe’s eyes opened.

She’d heard something, but didn’t know if it was real or in her dreams.

She tried to recall the noise. Something bumping something else, maybe? A click?

Even as this thought was going through her mind, the wind suddenly howled across the roof.

Maybe that’s what it was?

Click.

No, not the wind. Not even from outside. The noise had come from somewhere in the room.

She raised herself on her elbow and looked around. All the other cots were full, so whatever was making the sound was either the building itself, or…

A shadow moved over near where they’d left their backpacks.

Son of a bitch! Someone was trying to steal their things.

Silently, she slipped from the cot, and moved along the back end of the beds in a crouch, using them as cover to get closer to the packs. She stopped behind the last cot.

Not one shadow. Two.

They seemed to be carefully looking through the bags. Why? If they were thieves, they would just grab and go. It was almost like they were looking for something in particular.

She glanced around for anything she could use as a weapon, but apart from a pair of boots, there was nothing handy.

To hell with it. She didn’t need a weapon.

The packs were stuffed with all the items one would expect for cold weather survival-clothes, goggles, extreme-rated sleeping bags, and similar items. But so far, Rogers and Perry had found nothing identifying the people sleeping on the cots.

Rogers leaned toward his companion. “There are a couple bags by the door,” he whispered in Perry’s ear. “I’m going to check ’em out. You stay on these.”

Chloe smiled. Whoever the intruders were, they’d just made a critical error.

There was no question which one she should go after first. The guy sneaking across the room was headed straight for the bags containing weapons and other specialized gear.

Being sure to stay out of either man’s line of sight, she quietly closed in on her target.

There were three large, duffel-type bags shoved against the wall. Rogers started with the one farthest from the door, and carefully unzipped it. When he had it open enough to look inside, he pulled out his flashlight and aimed the beam into the bag.

Guns. At least half a dozen. And not the kind that might be needed in the unlikely event they ran into a wild animal. These were handguns.

Why would a group of scientists need pistols ? Only one answer came to mind: because they weren’t scientists.

He turned to get his partner’s attention.

When the man finished looking in the bag, Chloe was two feet behind him, her arm drawn back.

He paused for a second, undoubtedly working through what he’d just found. Then, as she knew he would, he turned.

The base of her palm rammed into the side of his jaw before he even registered her presence. The blow sent him reeling backward. His feet caught on one of the bags, and he fell across them, his head slapping loudly against the wall.

Chloe whirled around and sprinted across the room toward the other man. He was staring at her, surprised. His hand suddenly shot to the pocket of his jacket, where it began fumbling with the opening, going for a weapon, no doubt. But by that point, he was too late.

Chloe all but leaped the final few feet, hitting him in the chest and sending both of them to the floor. She tried to pin him down, but he had a size advantage on her, and easily shoved her off to the side.