ANTARCTIC FIRE: A Harry Crook Thriller - Conspiracy in the Antarctic

by Chris Geater

  “Why we took the journey is something we can't really talk about,” I said, “but how we ended up walking is a case of a small crevasse near the edge of a glacier.”

  She sat up, even more interested than before. I don’t think motives or politics interested her all that much, it was more about the Antarctic side of things.

  “You were on a quad, right?”

  “No, a Lynx.”

  “A Lynx? Good choice. How did it go bad?”

  “We took our time crossing the Dålk, Natalie probed almost all the way. The terrain turned into what we thought was mainland so she hopped on and we sped up. Almost immediately The Lynx nose dived into a small crevasse sending Natalie over my shoulders and feet first into the wedge at the bottom.”

  “A wedge? Not so good. Heard a few nasty stories about that.” She shook her head visualising what it must have been like.

  “It was like a vice slowly squeezing you with each breath,” Natalie said with a slight shiver as she relived the nightmare. “If you moved it grabbed you tighter, if you breathed out, tighter again, if you called out or spoke the grip pulled you further, a one-way street.”

  “Bugger that,” Margaret shook her head again. Picturing a death like Natalie described gave us all the willies.

  “Natalie had packed some goodies in our cargo box so I was able to piton my way out and pull her up using some snatch blocks. We were lucky, good weather and a shallow crevasse.”

  “You don’t know how lucky you were, maybe you do. You’re a fair way from any crevasse territory, how did you get this far with damaged feet and broken ribs?”

  Natalie gave me a look, I would have done it all again for another of those looks.

  “I was unconscious so I don’t remember much until we were in the tent trying to keep warm. Harry had towed me on the grab bag up to that point so a walk in the park for me.”

  Margaret gave me a smile of admiration with a slight shake of the head, she looked impressed.

  “Then it was just keep going or we’ll die,” Natalie added. “What is Halley VII doing out here? I thought your operations focused on the ice shelves further west?”

  “True, the brunt was our original destination but with little notice some people further up the chain of command changed their minds as we were shipping the station and sent us here near the Ranvik. Not very suitable terrain for our operation and this is as far as we can go inland, the ocean is only four miles north of our current position. They will reveal their wisdom shortly I hope but in the mean time, this is it.”

  She shrugged her shoulders and did her best not to look too nonplussed.

  I wonder if her superiors wanted them closer to Zhongshan, the Brits would recognise colonisation when they saw it, they invented the procedure.

  A good nights sleep, some more warm and highly nutritious food and we were in much better shape. The next day or two saw Natalie and I recuperate thanks to the attendance of their doctor and others. We hadn't much of a chance to talk as we were moved out of the sickbay and into separate cabins located in different units.

  The doctor, Sean came into my cabin carrying a hand held sat phone.

  “Call for you Harry, Steve from Davis.”

  This is going to be fun. “Steve, decent of you to call.”

  “Harry, glad you’re in good spirits, ”Steve replied frostily with no spring in his step at all. “There is a number of people who currently are not so jubilant. Nobody could believe that you two would depart Progress with a stolen Russian vehicle and attempt such a traverse, what were you thinking?”

  “There was a good reason Steve, don’t be too quick to asses the situation based on hearsay.”

  “I'm not a hearsay kind of guy, facts are facts, motives I'm less sure about but the embarrassment is definitely real. We are all glad that you both made it and are in good condition but I think it's fair to say, my career is all but over.”

  “If you knew what was going on in this Antarctic paradise of yours Steve you would be able to see outside your little scientific bubble, we’re talking major international conspiracy.”

  “Harry, your international conspiracy cost the life of one Chinese scientist whom you allegedly murdered, seriously injured another and has two eminent Russian scientists kidnapped at Zhongshan with you as the ransom! You should be arrested and returned to Australia to answer for your stupidity and cavalier criminal behaviour. Or better still, handed over to the Chinese. I'm not even going to start on the casualties of whatever it is that sets people on fire.” He sounded a little heated.

  “Gathering intelligence isn't your forte is it Steve?” I sounded a little heated. “Pull your head out of the sand. This isn't about little organisms that burst into flames incinerating people on a daily basis, this is much bigger, the Chinese are the antagonists, not me.”

  His voice became positively icy. “By all intents and purposes you are under arrest and will be extradited from Halley within the next few days. The British Government have agreed to a transfer once you are well enough and then we will return you to the mainland where you will be arraigned. Just be grateful Natalie was not killed or badly injured, I would personally hand you over to the Chinese if she were.” He hung up.

  This wasn't going well. Operating without government sanction was always risky. You think it will all go well and this sort of situation won't eventuate, well you hope it won't. The only evidence I had of the Chinese militarisation build up was Len and Andrey. Even then it was only my descriptions, no photographs, nothing. If my Russian friends were no longer friends, they would probably not be in a helpful mood unless it meant handing myself over as ransom. There was no escape from Halley VII, even in good physical condition where would I go? Smurf was my only hope. I tried to dial his number but the phone wouldn't allow me to. Sean was elsewhere so I went looking for him. Standing outside my door were two young fit looking gents who enquired about my destination. I explained and they accompanied me to look for Sean, decent of them, my arrest became very real.

  They led me towards the front of the ‘train’ and in the process we passed an office with a ubiquitous glass windowed door. I glanced inside and to my surprise several people sat around a table, two of whom were Len and Natalie. My partial entrance caught them by surprise or more shock based on Natalie’s ashen face. One of my minders grabbed my arm in an attempt to prevent the entrance. My reflex was to spin, harnessing body weight and elbow hopefully connecting with the side of his jaw. This fellow had been here before, all that connected was air, apart from the sharp needle I felt in the side of my neck. As the familiar darkness crept in I wondered about life’s betrayals.

  Relentless cold, my ears bombarded, deafening. I was running through a mine field in Northern Russia, ice and snow everywhere, bombs going off, people shooting at me. The ground shook, my dream receded and I woke sitting strapped to a canvas seat in a British Westland Lynx that just touched down with a decent bump. A group of people most of whom were rugged up in an unpleasant shade of Chinese military green with insignias stood a small distance away from the swirling ice. As my foggy brain tried to catch up, the same two pleasant gentlemen who so politely escorted me around Halley VII and less politely injected me with some type of boosted barbiturate removed my straps and dragged me onto the ice of Zhongshan’s helipad. My favourite Colonel along with six of his men stepped forward, his smirk didn't reach the eyes. He nodded to the other group and they brought forward two men not in green, the Russian scientists. My brain caught up, not good Harry. Thumping vibrations sent shock waves through my spine as the blades of the Lynx bit large chunks of air to overcome gravity, a sense of dread crept over me as the sound grew distant.

  “Welcome back Mr Crook, you have no idea how pleased I am to see you here. We have a lot to talk about.” The Colonel was not a good man.

  Our convoy, a man each side of me and four behind, made its way down towards the main buildings of Zhongshan. Flattering to think I was worth such a significant allocation of r
esources but I had a reputation here and they were not allowing any chances of a repeat performance. The station looked dirtier up close without the white cover of a storm. Mountains of empty packing crates, piles of rubbish and obsolete machinery, cables strung up haphazardly everywhere. Pride in their base and stewardship of the environment were not very high on their list of priorities, I had an inkling what was.

  The door closed behind me, a small cell like room with a timber bench and single bucket. Warm air blew from a vent in the ceiling so they weren't planning on killing me just yet.

  My jacket with hood, balaclava and boots were taken, difficult to escape without these essentials. The predicament in which I found myself seemed hopeless and unjust. Hopeless wasn't something I readily accepted and pity or apathy in my opinion were the contributor to most failings. My only obvious chance was to overcome my jailers when they came to feed or interrogate. Given their recent experiences with Harry Crook I can't imagine them making it easy.

  Some hours later the door unlocked and a similar four stood there all armed, ready and alert. One such guard aimed and shot me in the neck, the taser sent me crashing to the floor in spasms but quite paralysed and in a respectable amount of pain. They held me face down while someone else removed my sock and re-bandaged my foot. The crowd retreated quickly locking the door behind them, a tray of food left on the floor as a reminder they had been here at all.

  I sat on my bench and pondered the situation. The betrayal by Len and Natalie gained forefront attention. I understood the intelligence community and its ruthless ability to make pragmatic and impersonal choices. Len was an old hand and his unquestionable loyalty to Russia made him what he was. He chose the scientists over me and I would have probably done the same. Natalie on the other hand was something more difficult to digest. She was in the game that I left some years ago and ASIS psychologists chose people with particular traits, empathy and sympathy were not two of them. We had experienced moments, romantic, dangerous, extreme moments, the kind that created bonds and intimacy. Len and possibly Smurf along with my country abandoned me but I must admit, she was the surprise. Maybe I was kidding my self and the affection wasn't mutual, happened before and I was no Robinson Crusoe. Well if things went south and I found myself blindfolded in the rear courtyard of the Ministry of State Security building in Tongniu Rd Beijing I would think nice thoughts of her anyway, I couldn't help it.

  I dozed off for a period and awoke to the sounds of the door again. The same four humourless drab green figures stood there, a white leopard embroidered on their uniforms. Chinese special forces, Snow Leopards, I had met their brothers the Siberian Tigers in Kenya. This was no normal operation. My guess, the Chinese Government were making a move on the Antarctic in a big way and Zhongshan was the pioneer and expeditionary force. The Snow Leopards were no pussies. The spirit of the Chinese Special Forces is one that favours obedience and toughness above all, rather than critical thinking or tactical precision. They tend to believe ‘harder’ is better than ‘smarter’, which usually proves to be less effective and much less efficient but brutal and well trained none the less.

  Behind the troupe stood Wu-Dang, keen to make an entrance once my immobilisation was complete. This time my hands were handcuffed to a metal ring at the head of my timber bench slash bed. One Leopard placed a plastic chair near the door upon which the Colonel sat, the lads exited leaving Wu-Dang and I alone. Given my treatment so far I wasn't sure how he would proceed but I was fairly confident about the final outcome.

  “I am not here to gloat,” he began, “but I did want you to know a little about your future and why I went to so much trouble to ensure you returned to enjoy our hospitality.”

  “I admit, your hospitality has got better but you have nothing to prove, release me and I will certainly leave a positive review on TripAdvisor, I promise.”

  “Courage and humour in the face of adversity, very admirable, Daniel in the lions den as those of faith might say. I know a little of your history Mr Crook, your are no pink cat.” Foreigners and their metaphors.

  “We ourselves have experienced your resourcefulness and were it not for the lax security at Progress allowing us access to some not so courageous scientists we may not be having this conversation.”

  “Why are we having this conversation Wu-Dang? Has Confucius got a saying about torture and karma and justice, you know, the stuff civilised people take into consideration?”

  “Yes, I also know a little about your mouth, diplomacy is not your strong point. We gave you a name in our service once we knew who you were, Bàozhà wù, emphasis on the zhà. It loosely means explosive, apparently your preferred approach to, well, everything.”

  “I prefer to leave the opposition something to remember me by as I will when I leave your fine establishment, heading south not north.”

  Wu-Dang nodded, confident that his situation was rock solid, he had a point.

  “Anything is possible, you may be right, you may not make it to the Xuelong, many things can happen. My advice to you is to walk up that gangway, the alternative is less pleasant. Some members of our crew here were quite fond of the hero you brutally and needlessly murdered. But we digress. You see, you and I have a connection from the past. It may have left your memory but it has not left mine. Where were you and what was your mission in Canberra in 2003? Do you remember?”

  I said nothing, tried to cast my mind back to the Canberra years before my superiors felt I was worthy of a foreign post.

  “Let me help you remember by telling you a story. There was a young foolish Chinese embassy official based in Canberra, his first overseas posting, keen to prove to his masters that he was of the calibre who could be trusted. In his wanderings around the city gathering intelligence and an insight into the immoral western ways he met a Chinese Australian girl, born in Australia but with Chinese parents. They struck up a friendship that blossomed into more, inevitably they fell in love. They conducted the relationship in secret, such a thing was forbidden in foreign postings especially in the corrupt west.”

  I knew where this was going, the operation in question came rushing back. My first taste of trapping young naive foreign intelligence agents, the old honey trap. Frowned upon in the modern circle of espionage but thoroughly encouraged back in the day. How Wu-Dang was involved in the operation was unclear but I didn't feel that this was going to end well for yours truly, it sounded personal and that was never good. I gave him a nudge anyway, it's who I am.

  “Ive heard it all before Wu-Dang, pure communist boy meets decadent capitalist girl, falls in love, he defects or she does, whatever, ends poorly. Moral is to avoid decadent loose women and avoid corruption, blah blah. Does this have a point?”

  I touched a nerve, he sat straight up, his face dark and twisted, I think he wanted to kill me.

  “Yes Mr Crook, it does have a point,” his voice shaky with rage and emotion. “You see, you are wrong. The young girl was under the control of your organisation, more specifically a certain young ASIS agent, indifferent to the young man or young woman's plight. Yes, she did consider defection or so the young man thought but when it became apparent to you that the young man would not disclose any valuable information nor would he defect she was removed from the relationship. The Chinese embassy were anonymously informed of the situation alluding that the young diplomat had provided a number of interesting facts, that he had mistreated the girl and he was no longer welcome in your country.”

  I remembered the details. I had recruited Kim Yongan, the young girl in this story when I attended a Tiananmen Square anniversary protest. Her and I hit it off and after the protest we ended up in a restaurant chatting about the evils of the current Chinese Government. We met regularly over the next few weeks and I could see that she was a keen activist, something I made myself out to be as part of my cover. Eventually I asked her if she would be prepared to make a strike against the Chinese Government and that I knew a bloke who could get her close to agents from the Chinese Embassy
. Maybe she could befriend one and extract some secrets. She was all too keen, an exciting mission, spy on the evil communist agents. Going all the way was no issue to her so one of my female colleagues, a fellow agent met with Kim at a bar where the Chinese Embassy officials frequented. The young official was identified as a possible and Kim with an aptitude that surprised us all struck up a friendship that in a short time led to romance.

  Unfortunately that was as good as it would get. The young agent gave nothing away to Kim and to make it worse they fell for each other. When it became apparent that I was flogging a dead horse we terminated the operation and withdrew Kim. She would have nothing of it and continued to meet with the Chinese agent and even went so far as to tell him of the operation and her part in it. Understandably the young agent became a bit cranky and gave Kim a bit of a beating. I took exception to his actions and we made sure that the Chinese Ambassador found out about the whole episode only embellished with all sorts of sins and indiscretions on the part of their young operative. He disappeared and Kim, after a season of mourning moved on.

  I still couldn't see the connection to Wu-Dang but I had a feeling he was about to tell me.

  “The young man with so much promise was returned to Beijing where he met with a hostile reception. Within a month he was sentenced to death, much like you will be. I met with him before he was executed and he told me the story. His name was Lu Wu-Jun, my younger brother, my only brother. My father, a prominent Party member committed suicide from the shame. My mother was sent into forced labour and I was sent to a remote outpost on the Russian border. You can understand my disbelief when our people returned their report on a Mr Harry Crook revealing that you were the young ASIS agent who was responsible for the destruction of my family.”