Brett Battles - Exit 9

“I could use a little help!” she yelled.

The intruder pushed himself back up, but was on his feet for only a second before Chloe grabbed his ankles and yanked his legs out from under him.

“What’s going on?” a sleepy voice called out.

The man jerked Chloe toward him by her hair, and threw his arm around her neck, choking her from behind. She slammed her elbow repeatedly into his ribs, but he held on tight. Gray started to invade the edge of her vision as the blood flow to her brain decreased. Desperate, she brought her leg up into the air, bending it at the knee, and slammed her foot down into his groin.

Air rushed out of his lungs as his grip around her throat loosened.

Chloe twisted free, hopped to her feet, and looked back toward the other guy. He was still on the floor in the same place she’d left him.

Suddenly, the lights came on.

Ash was first to jump up. He ran across the room to the light switch and flipped it on.

Chloe was standing in the middle of the room, her fists hovering ready at her waist. She was looking back and forth between two figures on the ground. The one nearest her was rocking in obvious pain. The other one lay unmoving only a few feet away from where Ash stood.

The rest of Ash’s team were throwing off their blankets and hopping out of their cots, ready if another fight broke out.

Ash jogged over to Chloe. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

There was a patch of red on her neck, but otherwise she looked fine.

“What happened?”

“These two assholes were taking a look through our stuff.”

“Who are they?”

She frowned at Ash. “I didn’t stop to ask.”

The one who’d been rocking had recovered enough to put his hands on the ground and try to stand.

“Uh-uh,” Chloe said, shoving him back down with her foot.

Ash pointed at the unconscious one. “Pax, check him.” He then knelt next to the nearer guy. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Nothing, okay?” the guy said defiantly.

“ Not okay. Why were you going through our stuff?”

The man remained silent for a few seconds, then shrugged. “Looking for something we could sell. That’s all. You got us, okay?”

“Sell? Here in Grise Fiord? I’m guessing there’s not much of a black market.”

“You’d be surprised.”

“You got that right.”

Chloe moved up next to Ash, and put her foot on the man’s neck. “Who the hell are you?”

“Stop!” the man croaked.

“I think you should probably answer her question,” Ash said.

“Just a couple of guys, all right? Trying to entertain ourselves.”

Chloe pushed down on his throat.

“Come on…stop…it.” His voice was even more strained.

Pax walked up behind them. “Ash, a moment if you don’t mind.” Once they were several feet away, he whispered, “The other guy’s dead. I’d say he cracked his head against the wall.”

“Dammit,” Ash said. That was a mess they didn’t need.

“I wouldn’t worry too much. I don’t think these guys were just burglars.”

“Why not?”

Pax held up his hand. In it was a small notebook. He opened it to a page near the back, and showed it to Ash. There was a date, a number, and the words: 7 MEN 1 WOMEN, PLUS 2 MAN FLIGHT CREW. Pax pointed at the second item. “That’s the tail number of our jet.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’ve flown in the thing nearly a hundred times. Yeah, I’m sure. Now take a look at this.” He flipped back to earlier pages in the book. It was a log with more dates, both arrival and departing; plane numbers; and passenger descriptions. “He’s been tracking visitors. I’ll bet this is everyone who’s set foot in this town since he’s been here.” He paused, and locked eyes with Ash. “I think they’re with the Project.”

Ash looked at the book, and pointed at several dots that were printed at the end of each entry. “What are these?”

“I’m not sure. But if I had to guess, I’d say those were times they reported in.”

Ash flipped to the last entry. Theirs. At the end was a blue dot.

With a nod, he walked back over to their captive. He motioned for Chloe to remove her foot, then crouched down beside the intruder, making sure the man could see the notebook in his hand.

“I have a very simple question for you. Where is Bluebird?”

“Bluebird? What’s that?” The response was automatic, too quick.

Ash opened the notebook to the page containing the team’s information. He tapped the blue dot. “What did you tell them?”

The guy snorted and shook his head, but kept his lips sealed this time.

Ash stood up and looked over at Browne and Solomon. “Search him.”

They pulled the intruder to his feet and checked him over, but the only items they found were a pistol, a flashlight, and a key ring with four keys on it.

“Where is Bluebird?” Ash asked the man again.

For a second it looked like the intruder was going to deny any knowledge of the Project’s base again, but then he smirked and said, “You really expect me to tell you?”

“It would be better for you if you did.”

The man laughed. “You’re all going to die, you know that? All of you. There’s nothing you can do!”

Without warning, he lashed out to the side, knocking Solomon backward, then ran for the door. Ash and Browne sprinted after him. The intruder reached the mudroom five seconds before the others. He raced to the main door and threw it open.

Neither Ash nor Browne were dressed for the outside, and would risk serious exposure if they stepped into the Arctic night for more than a few seconds.

With no choice, Ash returned to the other room, where he threw on heavier pants and a jacket, and yanked on his boots without tying them.

“Take this,” Pax said. He tossed one of the pistols through the air.

Ash grabbed it in mid-stride and headed for the main door. Browne was standing just inside, holding the door partially open.

“Which way did he go?”

“Left,” Browne said.

Ash ran out the door.

The cold was like a wall, slapping him hard and nearly stealing his ability to breathe. He forced himself forward, ignoring the shock, and focused only on finding the man. If the intruder really was part of the Project, they had to stop him before he could report back to his bosses. If that happened, their mission would be compromised, and their minimal chance of success would drop to zero.

CF Guest Quarters was located at the northern end of Grise Fiord, not far from the landing strip. The bulk of the town-not much to begin with-was to the left on the other side of a short bridge.

Ash ran as fast as his loose boots let him, his gaze on the road ahead, looking for the man in the darkness. Wind was whipping around him, sending up swirls of ice and snow, and playing tricks with the shadows.

He had just crossed the bridge when he heard someone running up behind him. He twisted around, thinking maybe he’d somehow passed the man, but the person was too small.

Chloe, he realized. In her hand was a gun.

With a nod of acknowledgment, he started off again, his run turning more into a jog as the cold zapped the energy out of him. Even then, within half a minute, he was in the main part of town.

Here and there, lights shone outside some of the buildings. Each structure was raised above the ground, making them all look like they’d fit better in a mobile home park farther south than this northern bit of barren island. Even the church looked like a shoebox on a wooden stand.

The road ahead was split, one part continuing straight and paralleling the coast, while the other curled to the left, back to a few other buildings on the eastern side of town. He glanced at Chloe and pointed for her to take the coast road. He then followed the curve.