by Mark Parragh
This sucks.
At least you’re not hauling a dying supervillain up these damn stairs.
Well, that was never going to happen, anyway.
Come on. Get moving. Find Crane before somebody finds you.
He started up the stairs again. He’d counted the steps at first, but he’d quit after reaching three hundred without any indication that he was getting anywhere. Counting just made it feel more daunting.
About halfway up was the tunnel that led out to the glacier. That was where the helicopters were, where Crane and Swift were headed when they came up these stairs. But they’d been gone more than an hour now, and he’d heard no helicopters. Something had gone wrong.
Where are we going?
Out to the glacier? That’s where they said they were going.
There are soldiers out there. If they couldn’t get the helicopters, and they didn’t come back down, then they must have gone up.
Why would they do that?
Maybe they figured they could do something helpful up there. Take out the drones. Shut down the cell phone jammers. Something.
You really want to go all the way up?
No, but I really don’t want to get shot, either.
Then he froze. He’d heard something. A metallic thump. He stood motionless in the dark, terrified. Then came another sound, the soft whirring of an electric motor, and a faint clatter of wheels on rails. He looked back down the tunnel and saw square panels of light. The car was coming up the track.
Yes! My ride is here!
Wait, who did that?
Crane and Swift. They left us in the car, they’re bringing us up.
Or that thing could be full of heavily armed mercenaries.
Josh moved against the far wall and shrank down to make himself as small as possible. The sound of the car grew louder, the light from its windows brighter. Then it trundled past him. Empty. Josh let out a relieved sigh and then realized that if he’d stayed put, the car would have taken him up and he wouldn’t have to climb all these damn stairs.
Then the car ground to a stop ahead, and he saw light spill from the opening doors. A woman’s recorded voice said something he couldn’t quite make out.
That’s the glacier station!
Yes!
Josh hurried up the stairs, ignoring the burning in his legs, rushing to catch the car. It looked like there were maybe thirty more steps to reach the platform.
Twenty.
Ten.
Then the woman’s voice warned him to stand clear as the doors closed.
No! No, no, no! Come on!
He reached the level platform just as the doors started to slide shut. He reached out to try to interrupt them. But then he yanked his hand back as the doors nearly closed on his fingers, and he slammed into the side of the car. It accelerated smoothly away as Josh stumbled along after it, pounding on the cold metal with his fist. Then the car clanked onto the second uphill climb and left Josh alone in the dark once more. He watched the lit windows recede into the tunnel.
Well, shit.
He shook his head, took a deep breath, and started slowly up the stairs again.
The car didn’t come back down again. He wasn’t quite sure if that was bad or good. Once again, his world shrank down to the next couple of steps, the pounding of his heart, and the aching in his thighs.
“Josh?”
Josh cried out and dove for the railing. He was about to vault the railing and jump down into the tracks when his conscious mind took over and stopped him.
That’s Crane, you idiot.
“Yeah.”
Perhaps two-dozen steps above him, Crane switched on a light and swept it across him.
“Are you all right?” Crane asked.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”
“Where’s Redpoll?”
He died, and I dumped his body in the lake. Yeah, that’s going to go over well with the reigning Miss Mayhem, isn’t it? Didn’t think about that, did you, smart guy?
“He didn’t make it. What happened to you? Where’s Swift?”
“We didn’t make it to the Chinooks,” said Crane, “but we’re in control of the ski lodge. Come on, it’s safe up there.”
Josh climbed up the several steps between himself and Crane. “Are we still going for a helicopter?”
Crane shook his head. “Doesn’t matter now.”
They started up the stairs, side by side.
“I don’t suppose you can get the car back?” Josh asked.
Crane chuckled. “Not from here. Sorry. Just think of the cardio burn.”
“Yeah, I’ll want to be in good shape when the world blows up.”
They climbed a few more steps in silence. “Is that what’s going to happen now?” Josh asked. “Without him, is there any way to stop it?”
“We’re not done yet,” said Crane. “She’s got their files on the ATAK. She’s up there trying to get a data channel up. She still says if she gets that data out to the rest of Kilo, most of them won’t fall in line behind Turnstone.”
“So that’s what it’s come to? She’s the one person we’re counting on to save the world?”
“We could do worse,” said Crane with a tinge of annoyance. “What did you do with the body?”
“Let’s wait for her,” he said. “I don’t want to go through it twice.”
“Suit yourself.”
They finally made it to the top of the stairs and emerged onto the platform beside the empty car. Josh waved for a halt and took a minute to catch his breath.
Let’s not do that again.
Oh, hell no. Remember? Just stay on the boat.
Then Crane heard something and turned. Swift was standing in the doorway, lowering a weapon. They headed toward her, and Josh could see her stricken expression. She knew what it meant that he was there without Redpoll.
“He’s dead,” she said as they reached her. Her voice was cold and flat. Josh nodded and turned and led them back through the lobby into a lounge with a sweeping view across the valley. Two tables near the windows were covered with computers and radio gear. She’d been cross-connecting boxes and jury-rigging equipment together. He quickly scanned the screens, but didn’t see anything that looked like a working channel. But apparently, she’d gotten some of the surveillance cameras back up and running. Several screens showed panning views across the plaza outside the lower station. At least they’d have some warning if the soldiers tried coming up after them.
“How did it happen?” she demanded. She was standing at arm’s length from him, and Josh could see her trembling. Crane took up position between them and to one side so they made a tight equilateral triangle.
He’s getting ready to stop her if she loses it and tries to snap my neck.
Well, that’s a comforting thought.
“He just faded,” Josh said at last. “Nothing else happened. He just couldn’t hold on any longer.”
She closed her eyes for a long moment and drew a deep, shuddering breath. When she opened her eyes again, he saw a dangerous glint in her eye.
“And where is he now? What did you do with his body?”
Here we go.
“I had to hide the body,” he said, trying to keep a quaver out of his voice. “They can’t know for certain that they’ve succeeded. I did what I had to do.” He paused, and then said, “I put the body in the lake. It’s deep. They won’t find him.”
Her eyes narrowed, and he saw her tense. “You put my father’s body in the lake. I never got to say goodbye. You put him in the lake…”
“It was the only thing to do,” he said a little desperately. “Think about it. You know it was the only way to keep him away from them.”
He could almost feel her rage pouring off her like heat. For a moment, he thought she would spring at him. Even Crane seemed tensed to pull her off him.
But then it seemed to break like a fever and drain away from her.
“He wouldn’t have wanted them to take him,” she
said at last, as much to herself as to him. “To display him like a trophy. Maybe even mutilate him. At least one of them would insist on a vital organ for DNA tests, just to be sure. Now he’ll be a mystery. They’ll always have that sliver of doubt in the back of their minds. That worry he might still be out there, licking his wounds and planning his revenge. He’d like that.”
She closed her eyes for another long moment, and then said, “You did the right thing, Josh. Thank you.”
Josh just nodded back.
You’re still a sociopathic murder machine, lady.
But you have to tell her the rest. She deserves that.
“He knew he was running out of time,” he said. “There were things he wanted me to tell you.”
Her eyes widened slightly. “What did he say?”
She should be alone. Not Crane’s business. This is for you and her.
Crane seemed to sense it. He turned away to watch the screens covering the approach. Josh led her across the room.
The things he said about her. Tell her those. Tell her he was proud, that he loved her. Give her that kindness, at least.
But not the code thing. Whatever it is.
Don’t dare trust her with that. You can be sympathetic, but she’s still dangerous.
She might know what it means.
Exactly. And as long as we don’t, we’ll keep that part to ourselves.
Chapter 37
Crane sat at one of the tables, trying to figure out the equipment. It was remarkably sophisticated stuff, as good as what Hurricane could have fielded. He was familiar with most of the hardware, but that only went so far without knowledge of Team Kilo’s code system and command structure. Swift would probably be able to get further with it than he could.
He could hear her now, quietly sobbing in a rear corner of the lounge where Josh had told her how Redpoll had died. He didn’t know what words Josh had passed along. He hoped for her sake that she’d found some comfort in them. Her ambivalence about Redpoll seemed crippling to Crane. She was torn between wanting to rip free of his grasp and desperately seeking his approval. And now he was gone. That might solve the problem, but more likely Crane thought it would just haunt her.
Crane remembered growing up without his mother. It hadn’t been the same, exactly. But he’d been so young when she’d died. He’d faced it with the understanding of a child. As he grew up, so many times he’d wished for a chance to speak to her once more with the benefit of some newly acquired insight. It had been difficult, and he knew it was so much worse for Swift. He hoped whatever Redpoll had said would help her resolve that conflict in herself. His question was which side of her would end up in charge.
He gave up on the communications gear until he could consult with her, and he turned his attention to the surveillance cameras. They swept the station at the bottom of the funicular tunnel and the approach outside. Nothing moved there, he saw with momentary relief.
Nothing yet, at least. It was just a matter of time before Abera realized she’d lost contact with the ski lodge. Then she’d likely hit this place with everything she had. They did have one huge defensive advantage in the tunnel. Anyone coming up it would be an easy target. But even with that in their favor, they couldn’t hold off a determined assault for long with just two trained shooters and limited ammo. No, by the time the mercenaries got there, they needed to be gone.
He heard Swift approaching and turned. She’d stopped crying, and though her eyes were red, she had resumed her look of steely determination.
“Are you okay?” he said gently.
She nodded.
“Is there anything I can do?”
“You can get up and let me punch through a data channel,” she said. Her voice was harsh, and she quickly smiled and ran her fingertips affectionately down his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said, getting up. “You know their codes, right?”
“Some of them. Turnstone’s got his own overrides and protocols. Didn’t want the others snooping on him.”
“Were they?”
“I assume they were trying. I certainly was.”
Josh wandered in from the lobby, where he’d apparently gone to give Swift some space. “What’s our plan?” he asked.
Swift took out the ATAK. “Kilo uses a dark subnet encrypted and buried in routine traffic,” she said. “If I can connect to it, I can send this to all the Section Leads and every Kilo facility on the planet. It will go viral real fast.”
“I’ve been looking around,” said Josh. “They didn’t run a hard line up here. Too much work for a couple point-of-sale systems and the phones at the front counter. There’s just a wireless link down to the hotel.”
“Which is still jammed,” Swift finished. “I was hoping the jammers would be up here somewhere. But they’re not.”
So they didn’t have a hard connection to the Internet. They didn’t have cellular, wi-fi, or any other radio connection, either. There was plenty of clear spectrum out there, of course. They’d left frequencies open for controlling the drones, and for their own local communications via the ATAKs. It was just a question of finding a channel that could connect to something outside. Crane found himself wishing they had Georges here.
“Satellite?” he asked.
“Bet on it,” said Swift. “Or maybe a repeater across the valley somewhere. There’s some channel out. Turnstone can’t resist micromanaging. Sure thing he’s got some way to keep tabs on all this. I just have to find it and make it talk to our subnet. So let me do that. Shoo. I’ll call if I need you.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Crane said with a grin. “Any idea how long it will take? They’ve probably already figured out we’re up here.”
Swift nodded. “Might want to bar the door.”
Then she flipped open a knife and began prying open the case on the ATAK.
Crane and Josh headed back out to the lobby. But there was no question of barring the door. Not for long, anyway. They needed to go. But the funicular wasn’t any safer for them. If it was a chokepoint for an attacking force, it was just as much of one for them. Going down the tunnel, they’d be like cattle going down a loading chute—possibly into a slaughterhouse from which there’d be no turning back. They needed another way out.
Crane went to the diorama of the ski area that occupied the middle of the lobby. It was large, with carefully sculpted and painted terrain dotted with tiny trees. There was a model of the lodge and a network of ski trails and lift lines fanning out into the mountains.
“You ski?” he asked Josh.
Josh looked surprised. “Not really. A little. It’s been a while.”
“That’s okay,” said Crane, “we’ll keep it simple.” He pointed out what was obviously the beginner slope. Most of the trails ended back in the mountains, at some remote place where there was nothing but a ski lift back to the top. But this slope ran gently down along the side of the valley. Near the valley floor, it connected to what looked like a service road. That made sense. There had to be some way to get heavy equipment up here—a replacement boiler for the heating system, a snow machine. They’d need to bring plenty of things up here that couldn’t go up the funicular.
“Here,” he said for Josh’s benefit. He traced the slope down and pointed out the gap through the woods that represented the service road. “We ski down as far as the snow will take us. Then we’re on foot through here. It’ll bring us out about a half mile up from the hotel.”
“Okay,” said Josh. “Then what?”
“Then we stay out of the way until the cavalry shows up. That won’t be long. I’m thinking by sunrise they’ll be able to get a military response in here.”
“So skis, boots, poles.” Josh shook his head. “We’re raiding another gift shop, aren’t we? What are we, the Wild Bunch?”
“I call Butch,” said Crane.
“Fine,” Josh answered. “You be Butch. Sundance is cooler, anyway.”
When they returned to the lounge, Swift was sitti
ng at a computer, furiously typing. She’d wired the ATAK’s circuit board into a partially dissected USB hub, and its screen was displaying what looked like a progress bar, albeit a mostly empty one.
“You get something?” Crane asked.
She glanced back over her shoulder and then went back to typing. “Barely,” she said. “Narrowband data channel on a Norwegian AIS satellite. I can transmit to our darknet, but it’s going to be goddamn slow.”
“AIS?” Josh said in disbelief. “No kidding it’s slow. That’s for tracking ships at sea. It reads transponder pulses. You must have at least a couple gigabytes on that thing.”
Swift stopped typing, swiveled her chair, and fixed a withering gaze on Josh. “You want to find something else in a polar orbit, with ground communications, on a band that’s not jammed, knock yourself out! I’ll get this out any way I can.”
“Point taken,” said Josh. He gestured at the monitors at the far end of the table, where the security cameras swept the lower plaza. “But time’s not on our side. That plaza down there won’t stay empty for long.”
“He’s right,” said Crane. “We should get out of here. It’s connected and uploading. Let it run. You don’t need to be here anymore.”
“No good,” she said. “Unopposed, they’ll come right up the tunnel and shut this down. I have to protect it until the upload’s complete.”
“Then bring the ATAK,” he said. “It doesn’t have to go out right now. We can keep ahead of them and run out the clock. Someone’s going to be here soon.”
“Not acceptable!” she said, her voice rising. “Who’s going to be here? Canadian Forces? American rapid response force? No. They’ll take charge. Bury this. No. It has to get out.”
She took a deep breath, glanced at the slowly moving upload bar. “But you should go,” she said, and nodded toward Josh. “He’s not a combatant. You should get him out of here. I’ll stay.”
Crane began to protest, but then stopped. He wasn’t going to talk her out of this. He’d already tried his best arguments, and they’d failed. This mattered more to her than her own safety. What was he going to use to change her mind? Protestations of love? Promises of a carefree future in a grass hut on a beach somewhere? He didn’t even understand the hold that Redpoll and his organization had over her. It would take an ego bigger than his to imagine he could just sweep her off her feet and take her away from something like this.