Desmond Bagley - The Snow Tiger

McGill gave a long sigh. ‘Thank God the kids are safe.’ He nodded. ‘Good work, Ian. That tractor will be useful.’ Ballard turned away and McGill said, ‘Where are you going?’

‘To look for Liz and Stacey. They were in the chemist’s shop.’

‘You’ll do nothing of the kind,’ snapped McGill. ‘I don’t want any half-assed rescue attempts.’

‘But—’

‘But nothing. If you go tramping out there you’ll ruin the scent for a dog, and a dog can do better work than a hundred men. That’s why everybody is being kept in this church — for a time, at least. If you have information about where people were when we were hit, take it to Arthur Pye over there. He’s our Bureau of Missing Persons.’

Ballard was about to reply hotly but someone pushed past him and he recognized Dickinson who worked at the mine. Dickinson said quickly, ‘I’ve just come from Houghton’s house and it’s like a bloody butcher’s shop up there. I think some of the people are still alive, though. I reckon we need Dr Scott.’

McGill raised his voice. ‘Dr Scott, will you come here?

Scott finished knotting an improvised bandage and walked across. McGill said to Dickinson, ‘Carry on.’

‘The house looks as though it blew apart,’ said Dickinson. ‘I found Jack Baxter and Matt Houghton outside the house. Jack’s as chirpy as a cricket, but his leg’s broken. There’s something funny about Matt; he can hardly speak and he’s paralysed all down one side.’

‘Could be a stroke,’ said Scott.

‘I put them both in a car and brought them down as far as I could. I didn’t dare cross the river on that soft snow so I left them on the other side.’

‘And the house?’

‘Oh, it’s bloody awful in there. I didn’t stop to count the bodies but there seemed to be hundreds. Some of them are still alive, I do know that.’

‘What sort of injuries?’ asked Scott. ‘I’ll need to know what to take.’

McGill grinned mirthlessly. ‘You’ve not got much. Better take the lot.’

‘Turi brought a first-aid kit from the house,’ said Ballard.

Scott said, ‘That I can use.’

They had not been conscious of the distant vibration in the air but now it burst upon them with a bellow. Ballard jerked and ducked his head, thinking it was another avalanche about to hit them but McGill looked up at the roof. ‘A plane — and a goddamn big one!’

He got to his feet and ran to the church door, followed by the others. The aircraft had gone down the valley and was now banking and turning to come back. As it came closer they saw it was a big transport marked with United States Navy insignia.

A ragged cheer broke out and there was a beatific smile on McGill’s face. ‘A Navy Hercules from Harewood,’ he said. ‘The Marines have arrived in the nick of time.’

The Hercules finished its turn and steadied at a lower altitude, flying straight down the valley. From its stern black specks dropped and then the parachutes opened and blossomed like multi-coloured flowers. McGill counted: ‘...seven... eight... nine... ten. And those are just the experts we need.’

John Reed, Secretary to the Commission, poised his pen expectantly. ‘Your full name, please?’

‘Jesse Willard Rusch.’ The tall, squarely-built man with the decidedly unfashionable crewcut had a strong American accent.

‘And your occupation, Mr Rusch?’

‘By rank I am a Lieutenant-Commander in the United States Navy. By occupation I am, at present, Supply Officer to Antarctic Development Squadron Six. It’s the outfit that does all the flying in the Antarctic in support of our Operation Deep Freeze.’

‘Thank you,’ said Reed.

Harrison regarded the American with interest. ‘I understand that you were the first man trained in snow rescue to arrive in Hukahoronui after the avalanche.’

‘I understand that, too, sir. But there were five of us. My feet happened to hit the ground first.’

‘But you were the leader.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Can you tell us the chain of circumstances which took you there?’

‘Yes, sir. I understand that your Civil Defence people put in a request to Commander Lindsey, the officer commanding our Advanced Base here in Christchurch. Because the request concerned snow rescue and because I am Supply Officer to VXE-6 — that’s the squadron — he dumped the job in my lap.’

Harrison stared at the ceiling and the notion crossed his mind that Americans were strange people. ‘I don’t quite see the connection,’ he said. ‘What has snow rescue to do with you being Supply Officer? I take it that a Supply Officer is of the nature of a quartermaster.’

‘Sort of,’ said Rusch. ‘I’ll have to explain. There’s always a lot to do in the Antarctic; there are usually more jobs than bodies, so it becomes normal for a man to wear two hats, as it were. It has become a tradition, a much prized tradition, that the Supply Officer of VXE-6 doubles up on rescue and is automatically in command of any rescue operations in the field, particularly those involving air transport.’

‘I see. That explains it, then.’

‘I ought to say that we are all trained parachutists. We do our parachute training at Lakehurst, New Jersey, and our field rescue training in the region of Mount Erebus in the Antarctic. Our training there is done with experienced instructors drawn from the Federated Mountain Clubs of New Zealand.’ Rusch paused. ‘So when a New Zealander makes a request we jump to it fast.’

‘You have made yourself very clear.’

‘Thank you, sir. At the time of the request, which was in mid-winter, the staff of our Advanced Headquarters here was run down. Flights to the ice — to the Antarctic — are not routine at that time of the year and any flights are for emergencies, or perhaps experimental reasons. We normally have twelve men tapped for rescue — all volunteers, I might add — but at that time only myself and four others were available.’

Harrison made a note. ‘Have you ever run short of volunteers?’

Rusch shook his head. ‘Not to my knowledge, sir.’

‘Interesting. Please proceed.’

‘We were briefed, together with the aircrew, and the aircraft was loaded with our equipment which is prepacked ready for instant use. The standard operating procedure is that a team of four men jump with one packed sled. However, in view of the briefing and the possible conditions at our destination I loaded extra sleds. We jumped with five men and five sleds and landed in Hukahoronui at 12.56 hours. To the best of my knowledge that was fifty-five minutes after the disaster.’ Rusch smiled. ‘Imagine my feelings when the first man to greet me turned out to be someone I already knew from the Antarctic — Dr McGill.’

Rusch smothered his parachute and snapped the quick release button. He pushed back his face mask and checked the others as they came down, then turned to meet the group of men who were stumbling towards him across the snow. Arms akimbo, he stared incredulously at the man in the lead. ‘Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch!’ he said. As McGill approached Rusch stepped forward. ‘Dr McGill, I presume.’

‘Good morning, Lieutenant-Commander.’ McGill rubbed his eyes tiredly. ‘Or is it afternoon?’

‘It’s afternoon, and it doesn’t look too good to me. Where’s the town?’

‘You’re looking at it.’

Rusch looked about him and whistled softly. ‘You’ve cut yourself a slice of trouble, Mike. Are you in charge here?’

‘I guess I am.’

‘No!’ Ballard came forward, his hand gripping Eric Peterson’s good arm. ‘This is Eric Peterson, a town councillor — the only one around. He represents the civil authority.’