by Greig Beck
“Good to see you Aimee. How’s life been treating the pair of you?”
“Life is okay, and we’re good, Jack,” she said. “The safe house has small rooms, but at least I don’t wake up feeling like I need to be checking Josh every ten minutes. It’s safe, I guess.”
“Just every ten minutes, huh?” Hammerson smiled, but noticed the sharp look in her eye, and held up a hand. “No, no, I’m not watching you. Just a joke, Aimee.”
“It’s okay.” She relaxed, but still looked strung tight.
“How’s Peter?” Hammerson asked, already knowing how her partner, or ex-partner now, it seemed, was faring.
“He’s getting better. The doctors say he’ll make a full recovery. He thinks it was just a break-in that went wrong.” She smiled weakly.
“Good, good. We can bring him in as well, if you like.”
“No, it’s best if Peter goes back home. It’s not right that he got dragged into this in the first place. Don’t want him becoming submerged … like me.”
“You’re not submerged, or a prisoner, Aimee.” Hammerson watched her closely.
“We are and we aren’t, Jack. You know that.” She looked up. “Will it ever end?”
“If it did, I’d be out of a job.” He smiled with little humor. “But for you, yeah, sure. Don’t know when, but time passes, things change, people forget. The world and everything in it moves on.” Hammerson stood and walked to his desk, and poured a glass of water for her.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry. You’ve done so much for us. I’m grateful.”
“Here, drink this.” He left the glass on the desk, and walked to the window. He faced the pane, but watched her reflection. Aimee went to the desk, and took the glass to her lips. As she went to set it back down, she craned her neck to look at the report, reading quickly. She frowned and leaned closer, putting her glass on the desk.
“Zhang Li?” She looked up, her brows knitted. “What’s going on, Jack?
“Chaos,” he said without turning. “Subterfuge, war, aggression, and a fight for order.” He shrugged. “The usual stuff.” He turned and motioned to a chair. “Please, sit down, Aimee. We need to chat about a few things.”
“I used to know a Zhang Li, from my university days.” Aimee sunk into the chair. “This is no friendly catch up, is it?”
He stared directly into her eyes. “No.” He went and sat on the edge of his desk. “The world is tilting under our feet, and we need to act, before we all slide off.” He smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid we need your help.”
She still frowned. “Me? How?”
He watched her for a few more moments, then exhaled slowly.
“What is it, Jack? No bullshit. You know me.” She put down her glass and sat forward.
He nodded. “Here are the facts, all boiled down nice and neat. In 2008, we lost an experimental sub in the Southern Ocean. A few days ago, its emergency beacon fired up … coming from deep beneath the Antarctic ice.”
“What?” She recoiled, confused.
Hammerson half smiled. “Strange, I know. We don’t understand it either. But we weren’t the only ones to pick up the signal. The Chinese army look hell-bent on getting to it.” He looked into her eyes. “They’re going into the restricted zone – Area 24.”
“Area 24.” Aimee sunk into her chair, her eyes haunted. “You have to tell them.”
“We’ve tried, they won’t listen to us, and even if they did, they’d never believe us.” He watched her. “There’s a storm coming, Aimee … a big, hot, nasty one.”
She frowned. “For godsake, Jack, what does that mean?”
He sighed, rubbing one hand up through an iron-gray crew cut. “This doesn’t leave this room.” Hammerson stared for a few moments until she nodded. “At 0800 Pacific time, a team of Chinese PLA soldiers and a relief team of engineers and miners arrived on the ice, and immediately entered a tunnel system below their base.”
He paused, letting the information sink in. “I say, relief team of engineers and miners, because their previous team vanished – all of them. Including your old friend, Zhang Li.”
“He’s not my friend. I mean, I knew him. He was a brilliant geologist and engineer, and got a top job back in China. He was working in the Antarctic?”
“Yes, and now he’s gone. Maybe they headed down into the caves and got lost, or there was a cave-in. Something happened down there.” He waved it away. “Doesn’t matter now. But the new team is headed up by a scientist called Shenjung Xing. He’s a moderate, like Zhang Li, also educated in the US, and we believe he, and Zhang Li, will both be open to hearing the truth.”
She shook her head. “Wait, I still don’t understand. You said, a submarine under the ice … you mean the ice shelf?”
“No, the ice and rock. Somehow, all those years ago, our submarine managed to find a way in. We just detected its distress signal buried in some other data.” Hammerson shook his head at her horrified look. “It’s automated, we don’t expect it’ll be a rescue mission. But, what we can’t do is let the Chinese military get to that sub first. We’re going in to try and talk to them, but …” He shrugged.
She snorted. “You’re going in? And what happens if they won’t listen? You’re not a negotiator, Jack. You don’t bring in HAWCs when you want to talk, you bring them in when you want something obliterated.”
“We won’t draw first blood, Aimee, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Hammerson remained calm. “But the facts are, a Chinese destroyer is now parked down there. So is one of our Seawolf submarines, keeping an eye on it. Both are nuclear capable.” His face became grim. “If they won’t listen, we will do what needs to be done to protect our people and property.”
“Including starting a war?”
He didn’t flinch. “We won’t draw first blood.”
“You know as well as I do, that if the HAWCs go in, there’ll damn well be blood – nothing but blood. That’s what you made them for. You must fear a war, Jack?”
“Yes, Aimee, we fear war.” He sat staring at her for another moment. “But it’s our job to make the other guys fear it more.”
She scoffed. “And how will that destroyer react when you come back to the surface, and their own team doesn’t?”
“Aimee, you know what’s down there, they don’t. Without our help, you really think they’ll make it back to the surface anyway?” He tilted his head. “But like I said, we’ll try and talk to them. The rest is up to the Chinese.”
She sat back, her head tilted to the ceiling. “This is a nightmare.”
Hammerson shrugged. “We’re out of time and options, Aimee. They’ll send reinforcements, so will we. There is no real overt deescalation point available at this time. Someone has to back down, and as it’s our technology, and our people, it won’t be us. Sorry, Aimee, but we’re in the pipe – lock and load.”
“Oh for chrissake, Jack, who wins a nuclear war?” Her brow was creased in disbelief.
He shrugged. “They start something, we finish it. If they walk away, we all go home. But if we don’t establish our superiority, well, they’re already mining illegally, so they obviously have little regard for international law. Our game theorists suggest they’ll establish a permanent military presence on the Antarctic. That’s right on the doorstep of one of our allies. Added to that, they get their hands on our secret technology, and probably establish sea primacy over the Southern Ocean. Nothing in that scenario is good for our – or the world’s – future or interests. Like I said, they pull back, or we push them back.”
“No, no, no, that’s not an option. You must talk to them – send diplomats, not damned HAWCs, I beg you. You know there’s a reason for that saying about the pen being mightier than the sword.”
Hammerson’s smile was lackluster. “You want to know what General MacArthur said about that?” He didn’t wait for her response. “Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword, obviously never encountered automatic weapons.” He held up a hand t
o stop her protest. “Aimee, I’m under orders to resolve this issue, fast and with as little mess as possible. We will try and negotiate, I promise.”
“Bullshit.” She sat back, staring at the carpet.
Hammerson sighed. “Getting there first was to have been our ace-in-the-hole. They couldn’t steal something, if we were already sitting on top of it, but …” He grimaced. “Things didn’t go to plan.”
“You already sent someone?” she asked.
Hammerson sat watching her for a few seconds. “Yes, we did. Someone who’s been there before, someone unique, someone with extraordinary abilities, who could get there, and defend our position against everything and anything.” He half turned away as he spoke, but was aware of her getting slowly to her feet.
He went on. “One man in, one man out – just one.” He turned to her. “Alex Hunter.”
Aimee was on her feet, but her legs looked about to buckle. Her mouth worked, but no words came for several seconds.
“Dead … dead …” She shook her head. “He’s dead. You told me, he’s dead.”
Hammerson’s eyes were rock steady. “Yes, and for all intents and purposes, he was.” He lifted her glass of water, and walked towards her holding it out. “He should have been dead. His body was riddled with the Hades Bug you guys encountered in South America. But either the Israelis’ medical technology, or his own system, managed to regenerate his body.” He shrugged. “When he woke up, he didn’t even know who he was.”
Aimee’s hand flashed out fast and slapped his face. He took it and turned back to look at her. She slapped him again, and again, slapping and punching him now. He closed his eyes, took it all, letting her fury burn itself out on his flesh. She screamed her anger and frustration, until his intercom buzzed, and a concerned voice cut through Aimee’s fury.
“Everything okay, sir?”
He nodded. “We’re all fine in here, Margie.”
Aimee stood with shoulders hunched, fists balled and breathing hard. Her eyes were wet.
“You bastard, you let me think he was dead … all those years.” She wiped her face with a forearm. “Does he know about me … about Joshua?”
Hammerson pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped some blood from his lips. He still held her glass in his hand, now only a third full, most of its contents on the floor. He handed it to her.
She took it, glaring at him. “And you brought me in here to tell me that now?”
“No, Aimee.” He motioned to her chair. “Please sit down.”
“I’m fine.” She remained standing, staring, her ice-blue eyes now red rimmed.
“I brought you here to tell you that we’ve lost contact with him. We need to initiate Plan B – send in another team. And speed is still our best hope of success.” He held her gaze. “But this time we need someone who can talk to the Chinese, to their scientists – Zhang Li or Dr. Shenjung Xing – in a way they’ll understand and accept. A type of scientific negotiator, if you like. We need experience, and a cool head, and most of all we need a guide.” He smiled, he hoped, warmly. “There’s only one person I know of who has all those qualifications, Aimee. And that’s you.”
Aimee’s mouth hung open, and Hammerson continued.
“We need to show them, and explain to them, in their own language, that what’s down there is not worth risking their lives over. Pull ’em back before it’s too late.” He smiled and nodded. “Save them from themselves. A quick in and out.”
Her mouth snapped shut, lips clamped tight for several seconds. “Oh, no way, Jack. No fucking way in this world. I’m not insane.”
He hated himself for the manipulation. “I know you want to keep Joshua safe.” He looked into her eyes. “So do I. But, if there is a war between superpowers, just who is going to be safe … anywhere?”
“You son of a bitch.” She turned, her eyes watering. “My son …”
“He will be safe. You’ll be keeping him safe.” He kept watching her. “Save him please, Aimee, guide the team down, find that submarine … and maybe, Alex.”
She finally sank into the chair. “He’s still alive down there.”
Hammerson turned away. “Yes.”
She slumped, her face in her hands. “Oh god, oh god, oh god.” She rubbed her face hard, and when she looked up, she was drained of color.
Hammerson came over and put a hand on her shoulder. “We learned a lot from last time. This time we’ll be ready.”
“No one can ever be ready for a trip to hell.” She sighed. “You want me to go down there again – down beneath the dark ice.”
“Yes.” Hammerson’s eyes were gun steady. “Today.”
Aimee sat shaking her head, staring into the floor. “You never answered me.” She lifted her eyes. “About whether Alex knows about Joshua.”
There came a knock on the door, and Margie led Joshua into the office. The boy ran to Aimee, who immediately brightened, and he gushed about huge planes, jeeps, soldiers, and the great cheese they had on the macaroni. Suddenly, he stopped, looked into her eyes for a second or two, and then slowly turned to Hammerson.
Jack Hammerson leaned down. “Good to see you, Joshua.”
The boy stared, his eyes uncannily like Alex’s – not just the gray-green color, but the way they seemed to penetrate deep down to the soul.
“You sent him back down there.”
Hammerson momentarily froze, before sitting back down slowly. But the boy’s eyes held his. “Yes, Joshua. I did.”
Aimee sat forward to look at his face. “Who, Joshua? Who do you mean?”
“The man who’s always there, looking after me, guarding me.” He turned to her. “My father.” Joshua stared deep into her eyes, his own unwavering. “And you need to bring him home.”
CHAPTER 21
McMurdo Base – Antarctic
Aimee crushed her eyes shut as the huge helicopter she rode in descended. Her stomach roiled as a shivery knot of fear coiled tight in her belly, and she dry-swallowed to keep the stinging bile from surging up into her throat.
She held tight to the image of Joshua, his huge gray-green eyes wide with excitement when earlier he’d asked her to bring him something back – a penguin, just a baby one – and then he’d moved on to asking about his dinner, as if she was just popping down to the store. She smiled as she thought about him, but felt tears in the corners of her eyes that immediately froze solid.
The mother in her screamed its rage at her stupidity for allowing herself to be convinced to come back to the ice. “To stop a war,” she whispered, her lips moving but no sound leaving them. How can that not be a good thing for my son, for me, for everyone? she thought, but it wasn’t convincing enough to silence the maternal rage.
She used one bulky forearm to wipe her face and looked along the crowded cabin. Other than her, there were six huge people inside the cold helicopter. The heating had been turned off now to acclimatize the occupants, and from each, clouds of vapor puffed from mouths and nostrils as they grinned and joked. They were like a different species to her. Each was big, but made doubly so by the bulky snowsuits they wore. There was only one person she recognized – Casey Franks. The woman had let her eyes slide to Aimee when they had boarded, and nodded once. All HAWCS then. Aimee was to be the only diplomat; they were the muscle.
Their leader was a tall man with a shaven head and skin the color of dark coffee. Captain Mitch Dempsey never seemed to blink and the way he moved told of immense strength held in check, and a quiet and confident authority. He had caught her looking at him a few hours back, and he’d casually saluted her with a finger, but then ignored her … and then that was it. The HAWCs had been polite but had refused conversation, and after several attempts, she’d lapsed in and out of dozing as best she could in the loud, and now cold, craft.
The helicopter settled onto the packed ice and snow. Immediately, the door was slid open and a blast of icy air rushed in to sting her exposed skin. She buried her face into her collar, her eyes shut a
s she whispered: I will see Joshua again soon, I will see Joshua again soon …
“Head’s up, Dr. Weir.” She looked up as a figure in goggles and thick hood held out a hand towards her – not one of the HAWCs. She nodded, hiked her kit to her shoulder, and grabbed the hand. When her feet touched the snow her heartbeat kicked up a few gears.
She squinted; McMurdo was bigger than she expected – prefabricated square box houses mixed with multi-story buildings … and a lot of them. It was more a small town than a camp. Machine-like, the HAWCs leapt free, grabbing boxes and bags. They already knew where they were going and headed towards a smaller building a hundred feet farther into the falling snow.
The person helping her out ignored the HAWCs as if they didn’t exist, and instead led her to a large square building with a path towards it cleared in the snow. As soon as they got within six feet of it, the door swung open, and they rushed in, someone dragging the heavy door closed behind them.
The man who’d led her into the building swept his hood back and stamped his feet. He pushed up goggles and grinned – teeth white against cold blasted red skin.
“Sergeant Bill Monroe. It’s a pleasure to have you down with us, Dr. Weir.” He tore off a glove and stuck out a hand.
Aimee leaned forward and shook herself, trying to dislodge the crystals of ice that were rapidly turning to liquid in the warmth of the hallway.
“Plee corr ee, Ai …” She put a hand over her mouth; it was taking a few seconds for her lips to warm back up. “Please call me … Aimee.” She took off her own gloves and returned the handshake.
Sergeant Monroe pointed to a bear of a man with a bushy beard. “Big Ben Jackson, our go-to guy for everything from fixing a generator, to cooking roast beef.”
“Doc.” The huge man stuck out his hand, and Aimee gripped it, his fingers totally encircling her own.
Monroe then grabbed her by the arm. “Come and meet the rest of the team, and we can talk about what we need to do. Just need to make sure your other friends are settled in.”