Matthew Reilly - Ice Station

Schofield felt a chill run up the length of his spine. "Jamming us?"

"It's as if there's someone between us and McMurdo, stopping our signal getting through," Abby said.

"Scarecrow...," a voice said from somewhere behind Schofield.

Schofield spun.

It was Rebound.

He was standing in the doorway to the radio room.

"I thought I told you to stay down with?"

"Sir, you better see this," Rebound said. "You better see this now ." He held up his left hand.

In it was the portable viewscreen that Schofield had brought inside from the hovercrafts earlier. The small TV screen that displayed the findings of the two range finders mounted on top of the hovercrafts outside. Rebound crossed the radio room quickly and handed the screen to Schofield. Schofield looked at the screen and his eyes instantly widened in horror.

"Oh, Christ ," he said. The screen was filled with red blips. They looked like a swarm of bees, converging on a point; were all approaching the center of the screen. Schofield counted twenty red blips. Twenty ....

All of them converging on Wilkes Ice Station. "Good God...."

And then suddenly he heard a voice. A voice that made his blood run cold. It came from the speakers that lined the walls of the radio room. Loud and hard, as if it were a message from God himself.

" Attention, Wilkes Ice Station. Attention ," the voice said.

It was a crisp voice, clipped and cultured.

" Attention American forces at Wilkes Ice Station. As you will now no doubt be aware, your communication lines have been intercepted. It is no use attempting to contact your base at McMurdo ? you will not get through. You are advised to lay down your arms immediately. If you do not lay down your defenses before our arrival, we will be forced to make an offensive entry. Such an entry, ladies and gentlemen, will be painful ."

Schofield's eyes went wide at the sound of the voice. The English accent was all too apparent.

It was a voice that Schofield knew well. A voice from his past.

It was the voice of Trevor Barnaby. Brigadier General Trevor J. Barnaby of Her Majesty's SAS.

FIFTH INCURSION

16 June 1551 hours

"Oh, Jesus," Rebound said.

"How long till they get here?" Book asked.

Schofield's eyes were glued to the portable viewscreen. He looked at the box at the bottom of the screen. In it was a wire-frame picture of a hovercraft. The wire-frame hovercraft rotated within the box. Beneath it were the words: BELL TEXTRON SR.N7-S?LANDING CRAFT AIR CUSHIONED (UK).

"It's the SAS," Rebound said in disbelief. "It's the fucking SAS."

"Take it easy, Rebound," Schofield said. "We're not dead yet."

He turned to Book. "Thirty-four miles out. Coming in at eighty miles an hour."

"Definitely not friendly," Book said.

Schofield said, "Thirty-four miles at eighty miles an hour. That gives us, what?"

"Twenty-six minutes," Abby said quickly.

"Twenty-six minutes." Schofield swallowed. "Shit."

The room fell silent.

Schofield could hear Rebound's breathing. He was breathing fast, hyperventilating.

Everyone watched Schofield, waited for him to make the call.

Schofield took a deep breath, tried to evaluate the situation. The SAS?the British Special Air Service, the most dangerous special forces unit in the world?was on its way to Wilkes Ice Station right now.

And it was being led by Trevor Barnaby?the man who had taught Shane Schofield everything he knew about covert incursionary warfare. The man who in the eighteen years he had been in command of the SAS had never once failed in a mission.

On top of all that, Barnaby was also jamming Schofield's radio, stopping him from getting in contact with McMurdo. Stopping him from making contact with the only people in the world who were capable of taking out the French warship that was hovering off the coast, waiting to launch its missiles at Wilkes Ice Station.

Schofield checked his stopwatch. It read:

2:02:31

2:02:32

2:02:33

Shit , he thought.

Less than an hour until they launched.

Shit . It was all happening too fast. It was as if the whole world were closing in around him.

Schofield looked at the range finder viewscreen again, looked at the swarm of dots approaching Wilkes Ice Station.

Twenty hovercrafts , he thought. Probably two or three men in each. That meant a minimum of fifty men.

Fifty men.

And what did Schofield have?

Three good men in the station proper. Three more down in the cave. Mother down in the storeroom and Snake handcuffed to a pole on E-deck.

The situation didn't just look bad.

It looked hopeless.

Either they stayed here and fought a suicidal battle with the SAS, or they ran?made a break for McMurdo in the hovercrafts?and brought back reinforcements later.

There really was no choice at all.

Schofield looked up at the small group gathered around him.

"All right," he said. "We get out of here."

Schofield's feet clanged loudly as they landed hard on the cold metal floor of E-deck. Schofield strode quickly across the deck toward the south tunnel and Mother's storeroom.

"What's going on?" a voice called out from the other side of the deck. Snake. "Trouble, Lieutenant?"

Schofield approached the handcuffed soldier. He saw the two French scientists kneeling on the deck on either side of him. They just stared resignedly at the deck.

"You made a mistake," Schofield said to Snake. "You started killing your own men too soon. You should have waited until you were sure we had this station secured. Now we've got twenty British hovercrafts speeding toward us and no reinforcements in sight. They're going to be here in twenty-three minutes."

Snake's face remained impassive, cold.

"And you know what?" Schofield said. "You're gonna be here when they arrive." He began to walk away.

"You're going to leave me here?" Snake said in disbelief.

"Yes."

"You can't do that. You need me," Snake said.

Schofield looked at his watch as he walked.

Twenty-two minutes until the SAS arrived.

"Snake, you had your chance and you blew it. Now, you'd better pray that we break through their line and get to McMurdo. Because if we don't, this whole station?and whatever's buried down in the ice beneath it?is gonna be lost forever."

Schofield stopped by the entrance to the south tunnel and turned around. "And in the meantime, you can take your chances with Trevor Barnaby."

With that, Schofield turned away from Snake and entered the south tunnel. He immediately swung right and entered Mother's storeroom. Mother was seated on the floor by the wall again. She looked up when Schofield came in.

"Trouble?" she said.

"As always," Schofield said. "Can you move?"

"What's happening?"

"Our favorite ally just sent their best troops in to take this station."

"What do you mean?"

"The SAS are on their way and they don't sound friendly."

"How many?"

"Twenty hovercrafts."

"Shit," Mother said.

"That's what I thought. Can you move?" Schofield was already probing around behind Mother's chair, to see if he could gather together all of her fluid bags and intravenous drips.

"How long till they get here?" Mother asked.

Schofield looked quickly at his watch. "Twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes," Mother said.

Behind her, Schofield quickly grabbed two fluid lines.

"Scarecrow...," she said.

"Just a second."

"Scarecrow."

Schofield stopped what he was doing and looked up at Mother.

"Stop," Mother said gently.

Schofield looked at her.

Mother said, "Scarecrow. Get out of here. Get out of here now. Even if we had a full squad of twelve swordsmen, we'd never be able to hold off an entire platoon of SAS commandos." Swordsman was Mother's term for a Marine, a reference to the sword of honor that every Marine wore when in full dress uniform.