Ice Hunt

The line remained quiet.

C’mon…we need some break. A bit of luck.

The silence stretched.

8:33 P.M.

ICE STATION GRENDEL

Jenny clutched the telephone receiver in her hand. Tears of frustration welled in her eyes. The cord was cut. There was no way to communicate out. She wanted to bang the handset on the ground in frustration. Instead she simply set it down.

So far the two guards remained busy with their own discussion. She kept one arm around little Maki, not wanting to attract attention.

The captain’s voice returned. “There must be a problem at your end. But we’re monitoring all means of communication coming from the station. We have all our ears up. You simply need to find a radio of any sort. Even a walkie-talkie. Our ears are very good out here. Get to it. But don’t let any of the Delta team see you.”

Jenny closed her eyes.

“Just know we’re watching you. We’ll do what we can to help.”

She listened to his confidence, but it shed from her like water off a seal’s fur. Even if she could reach a radio, what good would it do? How could they help?

She stared at the blue lights circling around and around the titanium sphere. A sense of despair and hopelessness settled over her. She was too tired to fight any longer. She had been up almost two days straight. The constant terror and tension had burned all substance from her. She felt hollow and empty.

Then a new voice whispered from the tiny speaker. “Jenny, we’re here. We won’t leave until we get you all out of there.” She barely heard the words, it was the voice that held her attention: the familiar slight slurring, the drawled consonance.

“Amanda…” She was naming a ghost.

“I have someone who wants to speak to you.”

There was a pause during which Jenny sought to make sense of it all.

“Honey…Jen…”

Tears flowed, filling the hollow space in her heart. “Papa!”

Her outburst drew the guards’ attention. She leaned over the boy, speaking to him, covering her mistake.

Behind her, her father spoke to her…alive! “Do as Captain Perry says,” he urged her. “We won’t leave you.”

Jenny hunched over the boy, rocking, hiding her sobs. Her father still lived. The miracle of it pushed back her despair. She would not give up.

She lifted her head and stared over to the dead Russian teenager. From the upper pocket of his fatigues, a black walkie-talkie protruded.

Jenny stood up, pulling the boy in her arms. As she paced with Maki, softly humming, she edged closer to the body. Once near enough, she waited until the guards’ backs were turned. Then she darted down, snatched the walkie-talkie, and sprang back up.

She hid the radio where no one would think to look.

But what now?

Across the room, the titanium sphere continued its deadly countdown. There could be no rescue until that threat was addressed.

It was all up to the man she loved.

8:36 P.M.

Matt led the way down the long curving hall of frozen tanks.

Craig followed with his two men. Other members of Delta Force manned key positions throughout this level. With all the remaining Russians executed, the base was once again an American station…all except for one Russian admiral.

Matt reached the end of the hall, where the line of tanks stopped. He crossed to the secret panel. Pausing, he weighed the evils here: Craig versus the Russian admiral. But he also pictured Jenny and the little boy. He took strength from her heart, her will to protect the innocent. Before any other matters could be decided, the bomb had to be deactivated.

His fingers tightened on the rifle in his hand.

“There’s nothing here,” Craig said suspiciously.

“Nothing?” Matt reached and swung open the hidden panel, revealing the wheeled latch to the ice lab’s door. He glanced over to Craig with one eyebrow raised. “Then you go in first, because I doubt we’re going to get a very warm welcome.”

Craig waved Matt aside and had one of the Delta Force guards work the wheel. Matt allowed him to struggle a moment, remembering his own frustration. But time was critical. He leaned forward and hit the secret switch that unlocked the wheel. It spun free. The door cracked open.

No one moved to open it farther.

Craig stepped closer. “Admiral Petkov!” he called. “You asked for us to meet, to parley a solution. I’m still willing to talk if you are.”

There was no answer.

“Maybe he killed himself,” one of the guards mumbled.

This theory was quickly disproven as Petkov called out, “Come in.”

Craig frowned, unsettled by the admiral’s yielding. He glanced to Matt.

“I’m not going in there first. This is your goddamn game.”

Craig motioned everyone to either side, then pulled the door open himself, shielding his body behind the door. There was no gunfire.

One of the soldiers, a sergeant, extended a small spy mirror around the corner. He studied the room for a few moments. “All clear,” he said, not hiding his surprise. “He’s just sitting in there. Unarmed.”

Making the soldier prove his words, Craig waved him in first. Raising his rifle, the sergeant slid from his vantage point and ducked low through the doorway. Dropping to a knee, he swept his weapon around, ready for any threat. None arose.

“Clear!” he yelled.

Craig cautiously stepped around the door, his pistol pointing forward. He crossed into the room. Matt followed, while the other guard remained posted in the hall.

Little had changed inside the ice lab. Nothing had been moved or destroyed. Matt had at least expected Petkov to have smashed the samples, but the glass syringes were still secured across the back shelves.

Instead, the admiral sat on the ice floor beside his father. The two could have been brothers, rather than father and son.

“Vladimir Petkov,” Craig said.

There was no need to confirm the obvious.

Craig’s eyes took in the wall of syringed samples. He kept his gun pointed at the admiral. “It doesn’t have to end this way. Give us the abort code to the bomb upstairs and you can still live.”

“Like you allowed my men to live, like you allowed your own people at Omega to live.” Petkov scowled. He lifted an arm and shook back his sleeve, revealing the hidden wrist monitor. “The bomb upstairs is a sonic charge, set to go off in another forty-two minutes.”

Craig no longer even tried to lie. “I can turn those forty-two minutes into a lifetime of pain.”

Petkov laughed bitterly at the threat. “You can teach me nothing about pain, huyok.”