Dustin moved to the seat beside Nathan and pointed at the rear of the plane. “You see that stack of crates back there?” he said in a low voice.
Nathan nodded.
“They contain bits and pieces of a pistol I’m smuggling in. There’s little crime at McMurdo Station, and therefore little law enforcement. But there’s a first time for everything. Know what I mean?” He leaned closer. “Don’t hesitate to contact me if you find yourself in a predicament. You got it?”
Nathan nodded again and told Dustin his team was already on the ground conducting a similar study for the University of California. His outpost was only two miles from Dustin’s and he was bringing in more supplies. That part was true. Everything Nathan would need was in the bay behind him. Clothing, food, and equipment.
The new LifeTracker chip had gotten him in and out of three airports without a hitch. Thumb scans at airport security documented all necessary passport information, including matching photo ID. He was now Justin Fenneberg, a climatologist with the University of California. He could live with the name. Better than Chadwick Hendricks, at least.
Nathan pressed his face against the window and searched for the McMurdo Barrier as the plane approached the runway in the distance.
No luck…but no big deal, right?
Only the fate of the entire mission rested on his ability to detect Barrier ripples, and he hadn’t been able to spot a single one in four weeks. And that was back in Kansas City where he was used to the texture of the sky.
Every Barrier was different, he once explained to Sarah, if only for the local atmosphere serving as its backdrop. Sometimes undulation could be detected with little effort on the clearest days, other times it couldn’t. It also depended on whether his retinas’ cones and rods wanted to cooperate. According to everything he’d read, those who could see Barrier architecture had a unique interaction between those two photoreceptors, and it deteriorated with age. Ten years ago he could spot a Barrier swell on a hazy day. Such a feat had only occurred a few times since.
He focused on his breathing and prepped his mind for the task at hand. Three layovers and seventeen hours later, and he still couldn’t believe he was doing this, but here he was. Did he fully trust these people? Did he really know what this would all amount to?
No, he didn’t.
He had seen the latest news bulletin while he waited for his final flight to Antarctica at an airport lounge in Sydney. A television across the lounge detailed the latest about the approaching flare. Based on current solar activity, the estimated strike date was three days from now. As standard protocol, affected Sanctuaries were sealing off borders and evacuating all visitors and non-essential personnel. Footage showed hordes of Sanctuary 87 residents filing into hospitals and fallout shelters.
All cosmetic, Nathan knew, if what Ashlyn overheard came to pass. After the satellites and drones went offline, the scene would change drastically, and millions of helpless people, including Ian, would be kicked out of the shelters and shoved into the streets.
Nathan tightened his seatbelt as the plane landed and scuttled across the runway, wheels kicking up ice and snow. They taxied a few hundred feet and stopped next to a large vehicle with massive tires.
“The Terra Bus is a real beast in these conditions,” Dustin said. “You’ll love it.”
Love was not the first word that came to Nathan’s mind as he exited the plane’s rear ramp and a snow gust smacked him in the face. The wind was howling and visibility was low. He tilted his head backward and searched again for the McMurdo Station Barrier.
“What are you looking at?” Dustin stopped and asked.
“Absolutely nothing,” Nathan said, grabbing his duffle bag and boarding the Terra Bus.
_____
Leland boarded an unmarked jet at JFK International and hobbled to a compartment in the rear. Two men followed and found seats in the cabin. Two more loaded three large crates containing sniper rifles, bullet-proof vests, ammunition, and sub temperature clothing. They shut the cabin door and the engines fired up.
As the jet taxied and prepared for takeoff, Leland sank into a hard leather chair and tapped on a satellite phone.
His man answered after one ring. “Sir?”
“Have you located Aidan’s wife?”
“Affirmative.”
“What about Sarah Gallagher?”
“We've located both of them.”
“Splendid,” Leland said. “Who was the informant?”
“All three Gallaghers visited a dentist at the same time. Seemed odd, so we paid the man a visit. Turns out the dentist moonlights as a LifeTracker counterfeiter. We made some threats and got him to talk. We tracked them to an old fallout shelter eighty miles outside the Kansas City Barrier.”
"Are you inside?"
"Not yet. It’s sealed with reinforced concrete. We need to locate some strong explosives to blow the hatch."
"Do you need me to make some calls?"
“We can handle it, sir. Any further instructions?”
Leland tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Make sure one of your men locates a molecular separator. If that doesn’t grab the Gallagher boy’s attention, I don’t know what will.”
_____
A swarm of helicopters landed outside Sanctuary 87’s border security station. A dozen mercenaries in black uniforms and tinted UV masks exited the side of the lead chopper, automatic guns in hand. The captain flashed a digital readout to border security: signed and classified orders from Sanctuary Administration. Gamma Agency now had jurisdiction and would oversee all operations until after the flare.
The border officers confirmed Sanctuary 87 had been evacuated of all outsiders, drones were offline, and twenty percent of the residents had been moved to fallout shelters and hospitals. The orders instructed the eighty soldiers left in Sanctuary 87 to change into civilian clothing, surrender their weapons immediately and head to assigned barracks.
The soldiers were insulted but did as ordered. This wasn’t the first time Sanctuary Administration sent in hired guns when a crisis was expected to escalate beyond the capabilities of lower-ranking officers.
From their barracks outside the Quadrant Three Hospital, Sanctuary officers watched in disbelief as Gamma mercenaries entered the hospital. Minutes later, patients, doctors, nurses, and staff began filing out.
A mercenary entered Ian’s room and pointed his gun at Angelina. She was frantically adjusting the straps on his wheelchair.
“Nurse, is this kid gonna make it?”
“Don’t you dare harm him,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Wheel him out yourself, got it?”
_____
Ian looked around in terror as his wheelchair joined the mob of screaming people in the hospital lobby.
Who were all these men with guns?
Where was Angelina taking him now?
And where was his father?
32
After a thirty-minute ride over a treacherous icy road, the Terra Bus approached a cluster of aluminum research stations. Outpost 16 was Nathan’s stop. About the size of a double-wide trailer, it rested on steel pillars several feet off the ground. Before Dustin exited a few miles back, he informed Nathan that these types of research stations were light for transport, and made for quick assembly and easy maintenance. They weren’t pretty, but they got the job done. “No luxury suites here, city boy,” Dustin said with a quick slap to Nathan’s shoulder as he got off the bus, followed by a reminder to stay in touch.
The Terra Bus came to a stop, and Nathan was the last person onboard. He grabbed his duffle bag, stepped off, and watched the vehicle’s behemoth wheels dig ruts in the snow as it growled off into the distance.
He was alone now, fifty feet or so from Outpost 16. Wind thrashed his cheeks, snow pelted his goggles. He tightened the drawstrings of his hood and titled his head, catching a fleeting glimpse of cobalt sky. The McMurdo Barrier was up there somewhere, and he’d have to spend hours out he
re, trying to spot its ripples between snow gusts. The few precious hours he had.
A figure emerged from the building and motioned Nathan to hurry over.
Nathan complied.
The man had a gray goatee, and an orange hooded jacket was pulled tight around his face. Dark goggles masked his eyes.
“Justin Fenneberg?” the man shouted through the wind.
“Yes, that’s me.”
The man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a thumb scanner. “Validation, please.”
Nathan removed his glove and scanned his thumb.
“Good.” He grabbed Nathan’s arm and pulled him inside. He heaved him against a wall and put a knife to his throat. “Who did you talk to, Nathan?”
“No idea what you’re talking about,” Nathan said, gasping. He tried to squirm from the man’s grip, but his forearm was like a thick iron beam against his chest.
The knife nicked Nathan’s flesh. “Answer the question, Nathan. Who did you talk to?”
“Only one person mostly,” Nathan groaned.
“Who?” the man demanded, applying more pressure.
Nathan groaned louder. “A scientist from British Columbia.”
“Did you tell him anything?”
“I told him I’m here for the same reason he is—to study the next flare.”
“Are you lying to me?”
“What reason would I have to lie?”
He backed off, sliding his knife into a side pocket of his pants. “We received word that Leland Kronemeyer’s on his way. We thought we’d have a few more days to get our act together, but now we’re down to hours. You follow?”
Nathan dabbed at some blood on his neck. “Nice welcome.”
He tossed Nathan a rag, then flipped his hood backward and removed his goggles, revealing a bald scalp. He looked mid-fifties, of African descent.
“There’s a lot at stake here and we haven’t slept in about a week,” he said. “My apologies if you expected a party.”
“A simple handshake would have sufficed.”
“Sorry…I’m Bryce.” He shook Nathan’s hand and didn’t let go. “I’m in charge of this operation now that Jillian’s dead.”
“I’ve got a lot at stake too.” Nathan squeezed hard. “My son’s trapped in Sanctuary 87, remember?”
“Let me make something completely clear, Nathan,” Bryce said, finally releasing his grip. “If you screw this up, we forfeit our one-and-only chance at hijacking the Barrier system. Make no mistake, my friend, this is an overthrow. A revolution. Everyone here has family stuck in the Sanctuaries. They’ve lived like third-class citizens for too long, and we’ve been helpless to do anything about it…until now.”
He motioned Nathan into a back room the size of a tool shed. They entered, and it was dramatically warmer than the front room. Heat spewed from a ceiling duct onto Nathan’s frozen cheeks.
Another man of African descent was hunched over a lab table with his back turned. A row of monitors lined the wall in front of him, and the table was cluttered with circuit boards, metal shavings, and bits of black wiring.
“Micah, Nathan has arrived,” Bryce said, tapping him on the shoulder.
Micah spun around with a beeping device in his hand. He looked at least twenty years younger than Bryce, and a pair of yellow safety glasses covered his eyes.
“Welcome aboard,” Micah said, wiping sweat from his forehead. He extended his hand and gave Nathan a weary smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t buy Ian more than ten days.”
Nathan pumped his hand and told him he couldn’t thank him enough.
Bryce put a hand on Micah’s shoulder. “Micah’s the brains of the most important part of this operation: hacking into and reprogramming the McMurdo Barrier mainframe. He graduated first in his class at MIT. I don’t mean to brag, but my boy is about as brilliant as they come. He took a sabbatical as a senior software engineer in Silicon Valley. He’s counting on you to come through on your promise, Nathan.”
“You’re not such a bad coder either, pops,” Micah said, scanning some equipment on the table with the device. “But you’re far more comfortable with a gun than I am.”
“Gun?” Nathan asked
Bryce ran a hand over his goatee and cleared his throat. “Ground rules first. We only have one reserve tank for the generator and we don’t want to make any unnecessary trips to the fueling station. The generator’s primary function is lighting and electricity. If you need to thaw out, this is where you come. Understood?”
“Got it.” Nathan said.
Bryce pointed at the doorway behind Nathan. “Close that door. We’re losing a lot of heat.”
Nathan did as ordered.
“We chose this location because it’s a safe distance from the activity near the Ice Runway,” Bryce continued. “Unfortunately, we’re four miles from the McMurdo Barrier mainframe. The snowmobiles are too loud to ride all the way. We’ll have to find them a good hiding spot and do the last mile on foot. Are you in decent shape, Nathan?”
“I can manage,” Nathan said.
Bryce beamed at Nathan. “Let me put it to you this way, Nathan. If you can’t get there and do your job, you can forget about making it out of here alive, and you can definitely forget about saving a quarter billion people when the next flare hits, including your son. My brother and nephews are trapped in a Sanctuary on the target list. I’ll pay whatever price is necessary to get them out. Understood?”
Nathan nodded.
Micah picked up a flat, round metallic object from the lab table. “This is my feeble attempt at fabricating what Jillian had in her possession, and the reason you’re here, Nathan.”
“What is it?” Nathan asked.
“A makeshift Barrier wave analyzer,” Micah said. “Barrier technology is heavily guarded proprietary information, and little is known about how electro-magnetized energy domes maintain structural integrity, and nothing is known about pulse sequence signatures. The wave analyzer Jillian had was handmade by Elliot Gareth on Ellis Three. Minutes before her spacecraft exploded, she transmitted a data package to the team that included everything we needed to know about the McMurdo Barrier mainframe, the mission, and how to construct another Barrier wave analyzer.”
“But it doesn’t work?” Nathan asked.
“No, it’s a complete disaster.” Micah shook his head. “As you can see, there’s not much left of the team. Nearly everyone jumped ship after Jillian’s spacecraft blew. I’ll need weeks to even have a chance at completing the programming, and we only have hours.”
Nathan studied the device. He swore it would make a good coaster for his morning cup of coffee.
The front entrance door opened and closed. Bryce whipped out his knife and cracked the backroom door.
A young woman entered.
“You’re a little too happy with that blade, soldier,” she said, removing her hood and goggles. “Staying warm, Nathan?”
Bryce slammed the door behind her. “I told you to knock before you enter, Ashlyn.”
“Sorry, I forgot. Maybe my brain needs thawing out.” She raised her hands to the ceiling vent and let out a sigh of relief. Her hair was dyed jet-black and cut to her cheekbones, strikingly different from the bleach-blonde flashing her middle fingers at Chairman Alkott’s press conference. “I refueled the container and set it by the generator out back, as you requested…sir.”
Bryce glared at Ashlyn, then at Nathan. “Good time for a friendly reminder that nobody enters this outpost except the four of us. And when you do, knock five times, then two. No exceptions. You follow, Nathan? Your new buddy from British Columbia isn’t to come within twenty feet of this tin can.”
“You mean Dustin?” Nathan said.
“You’re already on a first name basis with this guy?” Bryce said, nostrils flared.
“We had a casual conversation on the flight here. That’s it.”
“Everyone’s friendly here, Nathan.” Ashlyn cut in. “This place is one big camp for fat, m
iddle-aged men who haven’t shaved in months. I’ve been hit on six times in two days.”
“She’s right,” Bryce said. “People here get along and security is minimal. Ashlyn might not like it, but it works to the team’s advantage. It’s about the only thing that does. With that said—and this goes for everyone—it’s best to not make any friends. We have a mission to execute, and there could be collateral damage. You need to prepare for that. We can’t afford any conflicts of interest when the moment comes to do something your conscience isn’t comfortable with.”
Bryce heaved a suitcase onto a lab table and opened the lid. Black foam surrounded multiple handguns and what looked to be handheld explosive devices.
Nathan backed up. “Whoa…I thought I was here to locate Barrier ripples.”
“You are, and that’s still your primary task,” Bryce said. “I’m reminding the team that we’ll be involved in a heist. And things rarely go as planned.”
“I’m assuming it’s a first for all of us,” Micah added. “My father and I are coders, not professional hijackers.”
“These are .50 caliber tranquilizer guns.” Bryce handed one to each person and performed a quick demo on how to load a dart in the chamber. “They use compressed air, and they’re no good beyond thirty feet. Keep that in mind.”
Ashlyn’s shoulders sank. “I was hoping we’d have real firearms. Things are going to get dangerous when Leland gets here, and I’d like to know I can properly defend myself.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, Ashlyn, but it’s impossible to get firearms past security at the airports,” Bryce said. “We’ve got permits to carry tranquilizer guns in case of wildlife issues.”
Ashlyn loaded a dart and snorted. “Wildlife…as in a ravenous penguin? There aren’t any polar bears in Antarctica.”
Barriers Page 19