Sacred Stone (Oregon Files 2)

8

AT THE SAME instant Cabrillo was landing at Kulusuk, the pilot of the Hawker 800XP was just shutting down his engines at the airport at Kangerlussuaq International Airport on the west coast of Greenland. Kangerlussuaq featured a six-thousand-foot-long paved runway that could handle large jets and was often used as a refueling station for cargo flights bound for Europe and beyond. The airport was nearly four hundred miles from Mount Forel but was the closest facility with a runway long enough to take the Hawker.

Clay Hughes waited while the copilot unlatched the door, then he rose from his seat. “What are your orders?” Hughes asked.

“We are to wait here until you return,” the copilot said, “or receive a call from the boss telling us to leave.”

“How do I reach you?”

The copilot handed Hughes a business card. “Here’s the number for the satellite phone the pilot carries. Just call us and give us a half hour or so to prepare.”

“Were you told how I’m supposed to get from here to where I’m going?”

The pilot poked his head out of the cockpit. “There’s a man approaching the front of the plane,” he said, motioning toward the windshield. “My guess is he’s here for you.”

Hughes placed the business card in the pocket of his parka. “All right, then.”

An icy wind was blowing across the runway, scattering the dry powdered snow like confetti on a parade route. As Hughes climbed down the stairway from the Hawker, his eyes immediately began to tear.

“You must be the party I was hired to fly out to Mount Forel,” the man said, extending his hand. “My name is Mike Neilsen.”

Hughes gave Neilsen a fake name, then stared overhead. “Are you ready to leave?”

“We can’t leave until morning,” Neilsen said. “Two rooms were arranged at the hotel for you and the pilots. We can leave at first light—provided the weather breaks.”

The men started walking toward the terminal. “Do you have enough range to fly directly to Mount Forel from here?” Hughes asked.

“I have a range of six hundred miles in still air,” Neilsen told him. “However, for safety I think we should refuel in Tasiilaq before we attempt the mountain.”

They reached the terminal building, and Neilsen opened the door then motioned for Hughes to enter. Neilsen steered Hughes toward a desk where a lone Inuit sat at an ordinary-looking metal desk. His mukluks were atop the desk, and he was sleeping.

“Isnik,” Neilsen said to the dozing man, “time to work.”

The man opened his eyes and stared at the two men in front of him. “Hey, Mike,” he said easily. “Passport, please,” he said to Hughes.

Hughes handed the official a U.S. passport bearing a false name but his actual picture. Isnik barely glanced at the document then stamped the entry.

“Purpose of visit?” he asked.

“Scientific research,” Hughes answered.

“I guess no one comes here for the weather, right?” Isnik said as he made a notation on a slip of paper on a clipboard on his desk.

“Can you ask the pilots to walk over to the hotel after they are cleared?” Neilsen asked Isnik.

“You got it,” Isnik said, sliding his boots back atop the desk.

Neilsen started leading Hughes to the door out of the terminal. “This is an old U.S. Air Force base,” he said. “The hotel was base housing. It’s actually quite nice. It has the only indoor pool in Greenland and even a six-lane bowling alley. For this country, it’s the closest thing to four-star lodging.”

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The men covered the short distance across the parking lot to the hotel and Hughes received his key. Two hours later, after a meal of musk ox steaks and French fries, he settled in for the night. It was still only early afternoon, but tomorrow he had a lot of work to do and he wanted to be thoroughly rested.

9

JUAN CABRILLO BREEZED through customs at the tiny terminal at Kulusuk then stared at a map on the wall near the door leading out. In the brief months of summer, Kulusuk Island was ringed by water. As soon as fall arrived and the temperatures dropped, the seawater froze into thick sheets of ice. And while the ice never reached a thickness that could support the weight of a locomotive, for example, cars, trucks or snow vehicles had no trouble venturing across to the mainland.

In winter, Kulusuk was an island no more. It was attached to Greenland by ice.