The Ice Star (Konstabel Fenna Brongaard Book 1)

by Christoffer Petersen

  Fenna watched Mikael as he boxed the cabin from the east, stretching out on the snow, the Lee Enfield rifle balanced on a smooth rock covering the cabin entrance. He waved at Fenna to advance. She held the Glock 20 in a double-handed grip and slid through the powder snow until the slope flattened on the southern, window-less side of the cabin. She reached the wooden wall and leaned on it. The wind whipped a polar devil of snow around her boots, the snow stuck to the ice clogging her laces. Fenna bit her lip.

  “Okay,” she breathed. “I'm going in.”

  The squeak of the door of the Morsø wood-burning stove broke the polar quiet surrounding the cabin. Fenna glanced in Mikael's direction. With her back against the wall, she shushed through the snow until she was leaning against the hinges of the door. She reached for the handle with her left hand, and, remembering it was designed with polar bears in mind, she turned it upwards. The stove door clanged shut. Fenna slammed the door against the wall, left palm flat against the wood, the Glock shaking slightly in her right hand, the iron sight wavering over the face of a young Greenlandic woman, her hazel eyes startled, darker, stronger than the coffee-cream skin of her face framed by long jet-black lengths of hair. The woman trembled but didn’t move.

  Fenna stared at the Greenlander. “You’re wearing my jacket,” she said, and lowered her pistol. Fenna stepped inside the cabin. “Are you alone?”

  The woman squeezed her lips shut.

  “Do you speak Danish?”

  The woman nodded.

  “Are you alone?”

  Fenna caught the hint of a nod as Mikael called from the snow beyond the cabin.

  “Fenna?”

  She turned to wave to her partner. “It’s a woman. A Greenlander.” Fenna beckoned for Mikael to approach. “Sit down on the floor,” she nodded at the space between the door and the stove. As the woman lowered herself to the stained floorboards, Fenna holstered her pistol. “I’m going to put this away. See?” She snapped the holster flap over the grip of the Glock and leaned back against the door. Mikael crunched through the snow to the cabin, the rifle slung over his shoulder,

  “Is she alone?”

  “I think so. We can ask her again.”

  The woman pointed at her lips. Opening her mouth she clucked guttural noises until Fenna stepped closer, crouched in front of her.

  “Jesus Christ. She’s missing her tongue.”

  “What?” he said and stepped into the room. He closed the cabin door behind him. “Let me see.” The woman glanced at Mikael, opened her mouth wider. “Jesus.” Mikael slipped the rifle from his shoulder and leaned it against the table by the side of the stove. “That’s not from birth.”

  “No,” Fenna stood up. “It looks recent.” The woman tilted her head, glancing from one Dane to the other as they talked. “We still don’t know if she is alone. I guess a hunter left her here while he went out on the ice.”

  “Then why is she wearing your jacket?”

  Fenna turned back to the woman. Holding out her hand, she helped her to her feet. “What are you wearing?” Fenna pulled at the woman’s arm, turning her to one side. “You’re wearing a cocktail dress?”

  “Plus your extra jacket and my spare socks,” Mikael said and wiped at the ice thawing in his beard. “I don’t think she is with a hunter.”

  The woman made a sound in the back of her throat.

  “What was that?” Fenna said and studied the woman’s face.

  The woman moved to crouch by the ragged mouth of the oil barrel, cut down to store wood, and traced letters in the dust with her finger.

  “Dina,” Fenna read aloud. “Your name is Dina?”

  Dina nodded. Smoothing the dust into a new pile, she wrote the number two with her finger.

  Mikael stepped closer. “Two people? You and one more?”

  She shook her head and pointed at her chest, held up one finger.

  “One person,” Mikael said and waited as Dina nodded. She held up two fingers and pointed to the door of the cabin. “Two people outside?” Dina nodded. “Okay,” he said and reached for the rifle. “I’ll go and have a look outside.”

  “Take my Glock,” Fenna pulled her pistol out of her holster and pressed it into Mikael’s hand. “I’ll take yours from the gear.”

  “All right.” Mikael tucked Fenna's pistol into his belt. “You’ll stay with her?”

  “I’ll find out what I can.”

  “See if she is injured, besides her mouth.” Mikael looked at Dina. “And try to find out why the hell she is wearing a cocktail dress.” He shook his head and walked to the door. “I’ll have a look around. Be back in ten minutes.”

  “Fire off a shot if you need help.”

  Mikael paused in the doorway. “If it’s all clear, I might just bring the dogs down with the sledge.”

  “I can help you.”

  “You could,” Mikael said. “But I think one of us should keep an eye on our new friend. She’s already been in our things, and she could use some help.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on her. You be careful.”

  “Always.” Mikael pulled the door handle up and pushed the door open. He stepped out into the snow and the eerie pink light of the polar evening.

  ITTOQQORTOORMIIT, EAST GREENLAND

  “And you never spoke to him again?” Vestergaard said as he leaned against the refrigerator, a biro poised over a fresh page in his notebook. Fenna shook her head. “Why did you give him your pistol?”

  “It was colder. We try to keep one pistol inside and the other outside when on patrol. Stops them freezing up.”

  “But you had your Glock and Mikael the rifle, both of you were inside the cabin.”

  “Not for long, it was only a few minutes before Mikael left. I stayed with Dina.”

  “We will come to that,” Vestergaard said and waved his biro at Fenna. “But you left Mikael’s Glock in the cabin with the rest of your gear when you departed that morning.”

  “Yes.”

  “How many rounds did you fire from your Glock, Konstabel?”

  “One, when I put Cisko down.”

  “Just the one?”

  “Yes.” Fenna watched Vestergaard make a note in his book.

  “Do you know how many rounds were fired in total from your Glock?”

  “No,” Fenna shook her head. “There was a lot of firing, suddenly. I lost track of how many shots were fired, from any weapon.”

  “There was more than one weapon?”

  “Yes.”

  Fenna looked up as Maratse appeared in the doorway. He plucked the cigarette out from the gap between his teeth and blew smoke into the kitchen. The policeman caught Fenna’s eye and flicked his head towards Vestergaard and back again. She frowned at him as Vestergaard waved his hand at the smoke and moved to sit down at the table.

  “So, let me check. Your unit had two pistols and a rifle.”

  “And the Webley,” Fenna said.

  “And where was that?”

  “In Mikael’s personal kit.”

  “Inside the cabin?”

  “No. He had a satchel he carried inside the sledge bag. The Glock won’t stop a polar bear.”

  “But a handgun from World War II will?”

  “Yes. It was the same age as the rifle.”

  “I suppose there are things I will never understand about the Arctic,” Vestergaard said as he made another note. Fenna saw the elongated W at the beginning of the word Webley.

  “Clearly,” she said and glanced again at Maratse, but the policeman withdrew from the kitchen without another word.

  Chapter 14

  NORTHEAST GREENLAND NATIONAL PARK

  Fenna pulled a spare pair of heavy cotton trousers and thermals from her pack. She pointed at the clothes as she pulled the satellite telephone from the cargo pocket of her trousers.

  “You had better get more clothes on, and then we can talk,” she said and turned on the satphone. Fenna paced around the room as she searched for a signal. Dina pulled the thermal
bottoms over Mikael’s thick socks. She shrugged off Fenna’s jacket and pulled off her dress. Fenna stared at the lacerations on Dina’s back. “What happened to you?”

  Dina reached for the thermal top. She pulled it over her head and tugged it down her back, hiding the thin raised lines and welts. Fenna placed a hand on Dina’s arm as she reached for the jacket.

  “Are you hurt, Dina?” Dina shook her head and then pointed at her mouth. “Your mouth hurts?” Dina shook her head, no. She raised her hand and pinched a few centimetres of air between them. “A little then?” Dina nodded. “Okay, I’ll see what we have in the medkit.” Dina pulled on the jacket.

  The report of the first shot echoed about the rock walls surrounding the cabin. Fenna looked up at the howl of a sledge dog and the crack, crack of two more shots.

  “Wait here, Dina,” Fenna said and tugged the sledge box containing Mikael’s personal kit from beneath the pile of gear. She opened the lid, pulled out Mikael’s pistol and stuffed it into her holster. A wave of adrenalin trembled through Fenna’s body. Her hands shook as she picked up the spare magazine and slipped it into her jacket pocket. Fenna held her palm flat in front of her face, clenching her fist to stop it shaking. Dina grabbed Fenna’s arm as she walked to the door. “It’s okay,” she said. “Just wait here while I go and look.”

  Dina pulled at Fenna’s arm and shook her head; low guttural mewls fleeing from her mouth. She pointed at the cabin door, shook her hand and then pointed at the window in the rear wall of the cabin. Fenna jerked her arm free of Dina’s grasp as three more shots echoed around the cabin. Dina crawled away from the door and hid behind the table and extra clothes and equipment littering the floor.

  “That’s good, just stay there,” Fenna said and held up her palm. She stopped at the sound of her name drifting on the polar breeze across the snow, breaking on the walls of the cabin.

  “Konstabel Brongaard? We have your partner. Come on out and we can talk.”

  Fenna flicked her head towards the door. English? And how do they know my name?

  Dina stamped her feet. Fenna glanced at the Greenlander before reaching for the door handle. Another round of stamping caught Fenna’s attention and she paused.

  “It’ll be okay, Dina. I’m just going outside.”

  Dina shook her head, her black hair whipping from one side of her face to the other. Tears caught the occasional strand, gluing them to her cheeks.

  “You know them, don’t you?”

  Dina nodded.

  “I’ll see what they want. We’ll be all right, Dina.” Fenna turned her back on Dina’s cries, unsnapped her holster and placed her hand on the grip of her pistol. She took a breath and opened the door.

  Fenna had the door half open when Mikael was pushed onto his knees about twenty metres from the cabin entrance. She let go of the door handle as the man holding Mikael by the shoulder, pulled a pistol from his belt and shot her partner through the back of his skull. Fenna’s breath caught in her throat as Mikael’s body twisted, slumping into the snow in slow motion. She slammed the door shut and slid to the floor. With exaggerated gasps she fought to breathe.

  “Konstabel? Fenna? Are you ready to come out?”

  Fenna tugged the Glock from her holster and forced herself onto her knees. She shook as she slid over to the window and peered over the sill. Fenna watched as the taller of the two men kicked at Mikael’s body. Her partner didn’t move. The man adjusted the white ski mask, smoothed his hands down his Arctic camouflage smock and nodded at the second man. Fenna watched as the smaller man opened the tripod legs beneath the barrel of his weapon and slid into a prone position in the snow. She ducked as the man leaned into the weapon and shredded the door with three measured bursts of lead.

  Fenna leaned over to the splintered door frame, pushed the muzzle of the Glock around the wood and loosed two 10mm rounds into the space in front of the cabin. Dina choked a long scream from where she hid at the back of the room. A fourth burst from the machine gun forced Fenna away from the door.

  “Dina. Can you hear me?” she said and ducked beneath the window. Dina stared from behind the sledge boxes. “I need to know if you can drive a dog team.” Dina stared at Fenna, waiting. “Can you drive dogs?” Dina nodded. Fenna took a breath. “Thank God for hunters’ daughters,” she said and bit her lip. “Okay. I’m going to get you out of here. Are you listening?” Fenna watched as Dina opened the box nearest to her, the Greenlander began stuffing snack bars into the pockets of Fenna’s spare jacket. “Okay then. When you’re ready, I want you to go out that window and wait until it’s clear. When these guys come in here, you run for the top of the slope,” Fenna pointed the Glock in the direction of the dog team. “There’s a team of dogs and a sledge. You can get away,” she said and slid the satellite phone across the floor to Dina, “far enough to use this. Have you used one of these before?” Dina nodded. “Good,” Fenna banged her head back against the wall of the cabin. “This might just work.” She turned back to Dina. “When you get a signal, dial the last number and just leave it on. Someone will come for you.”

  Dina searched among Mikael’s personal items. Pulling a floppy mad bomber hat from the box, she held it out to Fenna.

  “Take it,” Fenna said as another bout of adrenalin shivered through her body.

  Dina pulled the hat over her head, tucking loose strands of black hair beneath the rabbit fur. She looked at Fenna and stuck out her thumb.

  “How old are you, Dina?” Dina flashed both palms twice, a single palm once. “Twenty-five, eh? Same age as me.” Fenna shook her head. “What the hell are we doing?”

  Dina stomped stocking feet on the floorboards. She pointed at her toes.

  “In the box at the back,” Fenna said and pointed.

  “What’s going on in there, Fenna?” The Englishman called from outside the cabin.

  “No. The other one.” Fenna waited until Dina found her spare boots. As Dina tugged them onto her feet, Fenna fired another round out of the cabin door. Dina stopped. “Keep going. Get them tied and get out of the window.”

  “Come on, Konstabel. That’s no way to treat friends. We just want to talk.”

  Fenna pressed her head closer to the doorframe, listening as the men outside trampled the snow to either side of Mikael’s body. “Dina, you ready?” Fenna pointed at the window. Dina moved to the window, opened it and unlocked the bolt holding the bear shutters in place. They swung open when she pushed them. Fenna blinked in the pink glow of the polar sky as Dina lifted one leg up and out of the window. Fenna nodded. “Go.”

  Dina climbed out of the window as Fenna fired three rounds out of the door, to the right of the cabin. She fired three more to the left. Two bursts of 5.56mm blistered the cabin walls. Fenna fired again. She looked back at the open window, a reflection in the square-framed glass revealed Dina moving away from the cabin. Fenna reached around the door and fired another two rounds. When she looked back, Dina was gone.

  ITTOQQORTOORMIIT, EAST GREENLAND

  The smoke from Maratse’s cigarette still clouded the kitchen. Vestergaard coughed.

  “I don’t understand,” he said and sighed. “How the hell does a twenty-five year old woman, wearing a…” Vestergaard checked his notes, “cocktail dress, escape from a remote cabin during a gunfight.” He shook his head. “You expect us to believe this crap, Konstabel?”

  “I’m sure Maratse does,” Fenna said and nodded towards the policeman’s office. She pictured him there, smoking beneath the portrait of the queen.

  “Wearing a cocktail dress.”

  “She was wearing my spare clothes, Premierløjtnant.”

  “Sorry, yes of course. That makes it all the more plausible that a young woman leaps out the back of a cabin and makes her getaway on a sledge loaded with a top secret Canadian spy satellite,” Vestergaard tossed his notebook onto the table. “Your words, Konstabel,” he said and pointed the tip of the biro at her.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  �
��I’m struggling, Konstabel, believe me.”

  “I’m the same age as Dina,” Fenna said and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “You’ve been trained by the military.”

  “And I grew up in a flat in Esbjerg. The most adventurous thing I did before Sirius was competing on groomed biathlon courses in Sweden and Norway. I cycled to school every day. When it was windy, my dad drove me. This was my life until I was finished with high school and gymnasium.” Fenna paused and gestured towards the tiny kitchen window. “Dina grew up here, wrangling sledge dog puppies as a toddler, she learned to throw stones at the big ones to keep them away. She grew up with dogs and ice and temperatures below forty. Do you hear what I’m saying?”

  “Konstabel. Fenna,” Vestergaard said and lifted his hand from his notes. “It’s not that I don’t believe she could get away. It’s just highly improbable.”

  “For a Danish girl, sure. And yet here I am. But if we don’t find her, before Burwardsley does, if we just sit on our arses, then Mikael...” Fenna gripped the table edge. “Mikael will have died for nothing.”

  “I understand that, Fenna.”

  “Then...”

  “Wait a second. Let’s agree that I believe you. Then you’re right, we need to find Dina and retrieve the satellite, or what is left of it. But first,” Vestergaard pulled out the chair. “I need to finish your debriefing. Petersen needs to get these recordings sent to the navy legal office and...”

  “We’re wasting time with all this protocol.”

  “Be that as it may, Konstabel. This protocol might just save your life. Now, continue, if you will, and tell me what happened next. Then, afterwards, we will find out what happened to Dina and get you to a safe place.”

  “A safe place?”

  “Well, not here,” Vestergaard looked out of the tiny kitchen window. “The fog is lifting. It’s just a matter of time before helicopters can resume flying. The Knud Rasmussen is en route and as soon as we have communications again, I can hand the operation over to the navy.”