Alex Archer - Polar Quest

Annja grabbed her duffel bag and headed up the stairs to the second floor. She found number five easily enough and immediately heaved her duffel bag on top of the bed. She could always unpack later.

Her room was Spartan, but she hadn’t expected much. A double bed with a drawer underneath it occupied most of the room. She had a desk and chair near one wall and a small television on the table by the door. There was an overhead light and a red lamp on the nightstand.

I feel like I’m back in college, she thought.

She resisted the urge to grab a shower and instead headed back downstairs. She glanced quickly at Trevor’s back, but he made no attempt to talk to her again, so she slipped back outside and into the Sno-Cat.

Dave sat there whistling a tune. “All set?”

“Guess so.”

He slid the Sno-Cat into drive. “What’d you think of the place?”

“Like a college dorm.”

Dave nodded. “Sure is. And sometimes, the Air National Guard guys have a keg-tossing contest down at the bars.”

“Wonderful.”

“You meet Trevor?”

“I guess you could call it that.”

“Yeah, he’s like that with everyone. But honestly, he’s a good guy. You need anything, he’ll be there to help you out. Just don’t take it personally that he comes off as a royal pain in the ass.”

“Okay,” Annja said.

They drove back down the main street and then turned left. Through the snow, Annja could see bright lights. “Neon?”

Dave shrugged. “Like I said, gotta make it look like home.”

He slid the Sno-Cat in next to another vehicle and then killed the engine. “We’d better get inside. In this weather, even the cab freezes after about five minutes.”

Annja clambered down again and Dave waited as she walked around. Then he held the door open for her and she ducked inside.

Annja could hear the steady throb of a bass line drum beat. It sounded like they’d just walked into a nightclub. Dave unzipped and showed Annja where she could hang up her parka. “Drink?” he asked.

She nodded. “Definitely.”

They headed for the bar. Annja could make out about twenty people throughout the club, most of them in smaller groups. Some of them ate dinner and others seemed to be laughing over a round of drinks. A few tipsy folks hammed it up on the small parquet wooden floor.

“It’s imitation,” Dave said. “But it looks the part and that’s all that matters sometimes.”

Dave ordered a beer for himself. “What can I get you?”

“Gin and tonic,” Annja said.

The man behind the bar had a white beard longer than the ones worn by the guys in ZZ Top. “We’re out of limes,” he said.

Annja nodded. “That’s fine.”

He slid her the drink and Dave passed some money across. “First round’s on me.”

Annja held up her glass. “Thanks for the warm welcome.”

He clinked his beer bottle and then drank long and deep.

Annja sipped her drink and found it packed a wallop. She turned back to the bartender. “You put any tonic water in this?”

He grinned. “You just got here, right? I figured you could use the extra kick. That flight rattles a lot of people’s nerves.”

Annja smiled and hoisted her glass. “Much appreciated.”

“My pleasure.”

Dave nodded at an empty booth. “Want to sit down?”

Annja shrugged. “Sure. I’m not sure how the heck I’m supposed to find my friend.”

“Zach’ll find you, I’d expect,” Dave said.

“I guess.”

“No, seriously. I’m sure he will. He asked me to bring you here, so he knows you’re in town.”

“Oh, all right.” Annja frowned into her drink. It was a little weird, the entire situation. Being here in this isolated outpost away from the rest of the world. The people here seemed nice enough, but she wondered what kind of person could work in an environment like this and not go crazy.

Dave leaned back and sighed. “So what is it exactly that you do?”

“Me?” Annja grinned. “Mostly I file reports for a show called Chasing History’s Monsters. But occasionally I end up in remote parts of the world in small bars with guys who buy me drinks.”

“Interesting life,” Dave said.

“It has its moments.”

“Well, I’m sure Zach will be able to shed some light on why you’re here just as soon as he gets here.”

No sooner had he spoken than the bar’s door opened. Annja felt a gust of cold air blow into the bar before the door closed again. She saw a huddled figure stooped over wrestling with his parka zipper before finally freeing himself.

He turned and headed right for their booth.

Zach Guilfoyle hadn’t changed much since the last time Annja had seen him. He wore his sandy-brown hair cropped close to his skull, and his Romanesque nose protruded like a hawk ahead of him. But his toothy smile made her grin even as he approached.

She climbed out of the booth and hugged him. “It’s great to see you.”

He hugged her back. “Glad you made it down intact. I’m sorry for not being able to speak with you first about all of this, but then, some things are better left unsaid until you’re face-to-face.”

“Okay, well, I’m here. So what’s going on?” Annja asked.

He pointed at her drink. “You need a refill?”

“Not yet.”

Dave spoke up. “I could use another.”

Zach eyed him and smiled. “Sure thing. And thanks for picking her up.”

“My pleasure.”

Annja watched Zach walk to the bar. He seemed thinner, as if the weight of all the extreme-weather gear he had to wear had stripped him of some of his flesh and bones. But he seemed cheerful enough, if slightly preoccupied.

She noticed two men at the bar seemed interested in him. And judging from the grim expressions they wore, they weren’t fans.

Zach came back with two bottles of beer and sat down across from Annja. “Well, here’s to you getting down here safe and sound.”

“Cheers.”

They clinked bottles and glasses and drank. Zach wiped his mouth on a napkin and then glanced at the bar.

Annja could feel his apprehension. “You okay?”

“Yeah. It’s nothing.”

Annja looked at the bar. The two men continued to stare at Zach with frowns etched on their faces.

“They don’t look all that nice,” she said.

“They’re not,” Zach replied.

Annja took another sip of her gin and tonic. She felt uneasy. She closed her eyes. Not already, she thought.

But when she opened them, she knew it was coming. Zach’s eyes had widened.

Annja turned.

The grim men were headed over to their booth.

Annja felt a twinge of apprehension at their approach. Neither of the men looked drunk and both seemed in excellent physical condition. She blinked and kept her eyes closed long enough to determine that her sword was ready, if need be. It hung in space, glimmering faintly.

But the last thing she wanted was to explain to anyone how she’d suddenly manifested a large two-handed sword.

The larger of the two men stopped about four feet from their booth and pointed a finger at Zach. “You Guilfoyle?”

Zach smiled. “Yes. Can I help you with something?”

Annja watched the man’s eyes. They never shifted. They just stayed fixed on Zach. But she was aware of how relaxed he seemed, as well. And that wasn’t a good sign. It meant these guys were so used to intimidating people, it had become second nature to them.

The second man hung back a bit, looking around to make sure people weren’t taking too much notice of the conversation, one-sided though it was. His eyes roved the rest of the bar, never settling too long on anyone. He looked like he was maybe five feet ten inches and weighed around a hundred and sixty pounds. He was solid and lithe and he had a casual manner about him that told Annja a lot.