In short order, they roared out into the Antarctic landscape.
“So, it’s only just hit me that it’s just the three of us,” Kotler said as they plunged through the endless field of snow.
"Yeah, I'm not thrilled about it either. But we weren't entirely sure what kind of timeframe we had. Vicente was the most backup I could arrange, for now. We have more agents and some military backup on the way. Some of the folks from the US base are on standby. It's a heavy commitment, sending armed personnel out here. The Russians get a little antsy about it."
“So, it’s better to keep a low profile,” Kotler mused aloud.
Vicente grinned and spoke up, “There are plenty of armed troops nearby, but if anything goes wrong out here, we’ll all be dead before they can reach us! So, we might as well relax.”
“You, my friend, are just a ray of frozen sunshine,” Kotler replied, smiling.
Vicente shrugged. "I've lived in this region most of my life now. I came with my father and stayed after he died. I make my living taking gringos out onto the ice. There’s very little I haven’t seen. But I also know, as we all do, that things can go very wrong very quickly. Be as prepared as you can, but that also includes being prepared to die.”
“And you’re prepared for that?” Denzel asked.
Vicente reached into the collar of his parka and pulled out a small medallion. “Simeon,” he said proudly. “The Holy Fool.”
Kotler nodded. “He gained sainthood for living on a pillar for 37 years. Seems appropriate. Antarctica is such an isolated place, I can see the parallel.”
“He’s also the Saint of Style!” Vicente said, laughing loudly.
Denzel shook his head and looked at Kotler.
“Style, in Greek, means ‘pillar,'" Kotler explained. "Simeon was also known as Simeon Stylites."
"Styllllle…" Vicente said, drawing the word out as he made a flat, smoothing gesture through the air with his right hand. He laughed even louder then, and the three of them jolted a bit as the Cat crested a large mound in the snow.
They rode on in silence for some time. The coordinates were quite a way from the research base, and they'd have to spend at least one night sleeping in the Cat. Vicente was giving them a crash course—no pun intended—on driving the Cat, operating the environmental controls, and on what to do if they ran out of fuel and power out in the frozen wasteland. "Die, mostly," he laughed. "But there are emergency supplies and equipment. You might survive until rescue can come."
Once he felt that both Kotler and Denzel were up to speed, he offered to switch places and let them take turns driving. In this way, they could keep moving throughout the night, sleeping in shifts, so that they were making constant progress. To Kotler's shock, Vicente simply lifted himself from behind the wheel and left it unattended as they barreled forward. Denzel yelped and hurriedly crawled into the driver's seat.
Vicente nearly wet himself laughing. "Relax! There's nothing for us to hit out there for hundreds of miles! Look," he pointed to a screen that resembled a sonar device for boating. "This is the terrain around us. Sonar, radar, satellite imagery … this thing will show us anything that's in the way. We're clear, see?"
“All the same,” Denzel said between gritted teeth, “don’t do that again.”
Vicente laughed and then reclined in one of the back seats, asleep almost before his head settled to the seat's surface.
Kotler climbed into the passenger seat beside Denzel. “He’s a character,” Kotler said.
“Yeah,” Denzel replied. “A character. Let’s hope he doesn’t get us killed.”
"I think he's just trying to show us that he's confident and that he'll take care of us out here," Kotler replied.
Denzel nodded. “Confident is good. Cocky, not so much. Let’s keep an eye on him.”
Kotler couldn’t argue that.
He, too, settled into his seat and started to doze. The constant droning of the engine, the featureless landscape, and the warmth inside the Cat's cabin all combined with the general weariness of travel to make it difficult to keep his eyes open. "You ok if I nap?" he asked.
“Be my guest,” Denzel replied.
Kotler closed his eyes then, and like Vicente, he was out before he even realized it.
Chapter 9
Toward the end of the second day, Vicente was at the wheel. They had each taken their turn several times over, and despite those breaks, they were all tired and stiff from sleeping in cramped quarters. The Cat was comfortable enough, but it was still occasionally a jolting and jarring ride, and sleep was often interrupted.
They had plenty of provisions, including packets of instant coffee. Kotler was gingerly sipping one of these from an insulated travel mug when the Cat slowed to a crawl.
As they crested a virtually invisible mound of rock buried in the ice, Vicente stopped the Cat and pointed off into the distance. “Your coordinates are just up ahead.”
Kotler and Denzel both looked out of the Cat’s large windscreen. Denzel took out binoculars and scanned the distance. “I don’t see anything.”
He handed the binoculars to Kotler, who used them to pan from one side of the Cat’s framed windshield to the other. He shook his head. “Are we sure these are the coordinates?” He asked, looking down at Vicente.
The guide tapped the screen of the GPS with his index and middle fingers. “This is it,” he said. “We’re maybe fifty feet from the exact coordinates.”
Kotler turned to the scanners mounted to the dash. There was no indication that anything was out there. The satellite imagery showed nothing but snow, dotted with the occasional black, jutting protrusion of rock. Ground penetrating radar showed they were more or less on the side of a buried mountain, from the looks of it. The dense stone obscured any data they might glean.
Kotler and Denzel exchanged glances. “Well?” Denzel asked.
Kotler shook his head. "I have no idea. I was expecting … well, something, anyway." He once again looked through the binoculars. "But there's nothing. Nothing but snow, and … well, there's a rock outcropping. It's buried, though. Hard to see."
“Think that’s it?” Denzel asked.
In answer, Kotler looked down to Vicente and nodded.
The Cat lurched forward again, and in just a few minutes it pulled to a stop beside the rocky outcropping. Over the next several minutes the three men pulled on coats and other gear, getting themselves ready for an excursion. Vicente kicked on the Cat's inverter, keeping the heat going inside so they could retreat to a warm space if they needed to. "It's on batteries, charged from the Cat's alternator," he said. "If the batteries start to run low the engine will kick on automatically and charge them back up. That's probably about four hours from now. So, if we hear the engine start, that might be a good time to head back."
Denzel shrugged. “I can agree to that. I don’t want to be out there any longer than necessary.”
They braced themselves then, and opened the door, scrambling out into the brutally cold air.
Kotler felt warm enough. He'd been edging toward uncomfortable while wearing his snow gear inside the Cat, but out here he was cooling down rapidly. He would be warm for a while, but the cold was like a force of gravity here, held at bay by nothing more significant than his parka. He could feel the pressure of it, more than the temperature itself. It wouldn't take long for it to overtake him, parka or no parka. He would keep that in mind.
They had gear with them, strapped to packs slung over their shoulders, and this jingled as they walked to the rock face. They came to its base and stared upward.
“It’s bigger than I thought,” Denzel said. It seemed much smaller when we were in the Cat.”
“Is this what you came to see?” Vicente asked, confused.
Kotler shook his head, though he knew that neither of his companions would be able to see it. “I doubt it,” he said. “But we have to check it out. I doubt it’s a coincidence that this is here.”
They decided to divide up but sta
y within calling range. Each had a radio, with earbuds that used bone conduction to pick up their speech, allowing them to be completely hands-free. Sophisticated equipment, which Denzel had brought along from the States. They were handy, but it did mean that anything any of them said would be broadcast to anyone with the technology to listen in. Something Kotler wasn't sure would be a problem, here in the densely packed ice, but nevertheless meant they should be careful about saying too much.
Vicente flanked left around the stone protrusion, and Denzel flanked right. This left Kotler to explore straight up the middle.
As he moved forward, he was surprised at how much easier it was to move in the snow than he had thought it would be. Here, near the rocky outcropping, the snow was densely packed on top of hidden layers of stone. It was enough to give him some support as he walked, and it made the short trek even easier.
“Did anyone bring a tauntaun, in case one of us needs to shelter from the cold?” Kotler asked.
“Kotler, keep the chatter to a minimum,” Denzel groused, and Kotler could practically hear the eye roll in his voice.
Vicente, on the other hand, cackled like a bruja, and Kotler was satisfied that his joke had hit home.
He stepped forward, edging closer to the rising black stone, and put a hand on its surface. Through his thick gloves, he really couldn't feel much, other than the lack of give from the stone that rose above him. It felt solid enough. There had to be something here, though. The coordinates led them to this exact spot.
Find Abigail at coordinates.
Kotler still didn't know what that meant, but all roads had led them to this remote and desolate location.
He started skirting along the edge of the outcropping, feeling the stone as he moved. From his belt, he took out a telescoping pole that he could use to tap at the ground as he walked. In part, this was to help with the search, but it also provided some stability. The terrain was uneven, and the winter gear made Kotler feel cumbersome and clumsy.
Sliding along what Kotler was coming to think of as "the wall," he eventually found a crevice that opened up enough for him to take a step forward. As he did so, his foot met with a slight rise. He kicked at this and cleared snow from what turned out to be a shaped, rectangular stone. Kotler stepped onto this and found that another rose from it as well.
“Guys,” Kotler said. “I’ve found a set of steps.”
“Steps?” Denzel asked. “Like a staircase?”
“Affirmative,” Kotler said. “You both might want to make your way back to me.”
“On my way,” Denzel said.
“Me too,” Vicente said.
Kotler stepped back then and used the pole to sweep at the stone steps, clearing snow as much as possible. He was able to clear eight of the steps before Denzel and Vicente returned. It was clear that these were manmade.
“They were carved and then placed here,” Kotler said, bending to point out seams and details. “See? These aren’t part of the rock surface. They were installed.”
“By who?” Vicente asked, marveling.
“No idea,” Kotler said. “But I think this is what we’re looking for.”
“How far up do they go?” Denzel asked.
Kotler peered upward. “I think they terminate at a ridge up there. It’s hard to tell, with the snow.” He turned to both of them. “We’ve been at this for two hours. Should we regroup at the Cat and form a strategy?”
Denzel made a noise that Kotler took as part laughter and part surprise. “You want to step back and plan, instead of rushing right ahead? Kotler, I think you’re growing up!”
Vicente snorted.
Kotler grinned. “I have an ulterior motive. I’m starting to feel a chill in my Antarctic region.”
Again, Vicente laughed, loud and sharp, and Denzel groaned as they turned to make their way back to the Cat.
They hadn’t made it far when they heard the sound of buzzing.
“What is that?” Kotler asked.
In answer, the buzzing became louder, and they could see in the distance that a plane was coming their way.
As they watched, it banked, and a door slid open in its side.
"Down!" Denzel shouted, yanking both Kotler and Vicente backward toward a lump of stone protruding from the ice.
From the plane, a figure leaned outward and swung out what appeared to be the barrel of a large weapon. He began firing, and the three men on the ground huddled for cover as best they could.
The plane passed over, and Denzel wasted no time getting up and barking at Kotler and Vicente to do the same. “Back to the steps!” He shouted.
They ran for the stone outcropping, and as they came to the steps, the buzzing of the plane once again got louder.
“We’ll never make it!” Kotler shouted. He and Denzel were looking around frantically, trying to find anything that could provide cover out here in the open field of snow.
“Dig!” Vicente said, yanking a small shovel from his belt. He quickly plowed through the snow, cutting a trench that was a foot or so deep. Denzel and Kotler did the same.
The buzzing grew louder, and the plane was making its approach. The three men hurriedly laid down and covered themselves in snow.
Their blue parkas were dark enough and similar enough in color that, Kotler hoped, they would be mistaken as bits of stone. It was a thin hope, but that combined with the cover of the snow, it was all they had.
Covered and lying still, Kotler listened as the plane once again passed overhead. Perhaps out of frustration, the figure in the door began firing once again, and Kotler braced himself.
The shots thumped harmlessly into the snow bed well beyond them, however, and in just a moment the plane was once again a distant droning rather than an immediate overhead threat.
“Move!” Denzel shouted, and the three of them sprang up and lumbered as quickly as possible through the snow.
They were able to make it to the steps, and Kotler looked around frantically. The buzzing was getting closer again. They wouldn’t have much time.
“Up!” Kotler shouted. “There’s an overhang, above us! We can shelter there!”
They scrambled up the steps, and once they got to those still covered in snow, they slowed a bit, picking their way a bit more carefully to avoid slipping. A fall would be disastrous in more ways than one. Eventually, they were under the overhang, huddled close.
The plane buzzed by once again.
Kotler peered up at the ridge above them and saw something that gave him hope. "There's a cave or entrance up there," he said, pointing. "Could be our best shot!"
They wasted no time rushing upward. It exposed them briefly, bringing them out from under the rocky overhang and into full view of the opening expanse of terrain and sky, but in moments they were at the lip of the entrance and once again hidden by a rocky outcropping.
The space wasn't a cave.
Before them was a large, vaulted door, inset into the side of the stone. Everything here was covered in deep snow, but the door was visible, rising above the ice.
“What now?” Vicente asked.
“Try the door!” Kotler said. “Dig away at the bottom. We should have some cover here for now.”
They scrapped at the snow at the base of the door, revealing the seams of it as it met with a steel wall, shaped to the inside of what appeared to be a man-made cave entrance. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to put this here, Kotler realized. It was monumental in proportions.
"There's a handle here!" Denzel shouted from Kotler's left. He and Vicente rushed over and took hold of a large ring set into the door. They pulled, and with some considerable effort, they heard the sound of steel on steel as the door grated open. They rushed inside and pulled the door closed behind them.
As it thudded against the steel frame, they were thrown into utter darkness. Denzel turned on a flashlight, and the three men stopped short and let the scene before them absorb their attention.
Here they stood in a sloping tunnel
that led into pitch black below. Far from being the stone walls of a mountain cave, however, they were standing in a steel shaft with steps and even handrails descending before them.
Kotler took out his own flashlight, and passed the beam over the surfaces above, below, and to the sides. He turned his attention back to the door. “No locks,” he said. “Whoever built this was confident no one could find it.”
“That also means we have no way to lock out whoever was just shooting at us,” Denzel said.
“They had skids on that plane,” Vicente told them. “They could land anywhere out here.”
“Which would have been nice for us to have done,” Denzel grumbled, looking at the man.
Vicente shook his head. "It's crazy to bring a plane out here. Takes a lot of fuel, and if anything goes wrong, there's less chance of survival."
"Which may mean that whoever that was, they have backup on the way," Kotler said.
Denzel thought about this and nodded. “We’re in trouble.”
“Of course,” Kotler said. “There’s no way we can get back to the Cat without being shot. And if we wait here, we’ll eventually have to deal with armed attackers, and who knows how many.”
Denzel groaned and waved his flashlight wildly, illuminating the descending steel steps in a disco pulse of light. “Kotler, why is it that no matter what, we always end up running head first into whatever dark and scary tunnel you stumble across?”
Kotler chuckled and shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess.”
Chapter 10
The door had a handle on the inside, and Vicente suggested they could rig a lock for it. “We have pitons and rope. But I don’t think we could get a piton into the steel around the door.”
Kotler inspected the doorway. “There’s nothing here to tie off to.” He straightened and shook his head. “I think we’d just be wasting a resource. There’s no way to tie this off. We need to just get moving.”
The Antarctic Forgery Page 8