by L. A. Larkin
Winchester spoke. ‘Luke, do you really think this could have legs?’
‘I don’t know. Maybe. Some things just don’t make sense, though. It’s hard to believe that the guys we know from Li Bai would do something bad for Antarctica. And I know their research is focused on the Hudsons, not the glacier. Zhu Guoming – one of their scientists – was drilling in the Hudsons to establish the age and volcanic history of the range. My point is – if they’re after ice, why would they waste time in the mountains?’
‘Perhaps Zhu’s research isn’t connected,’ said Lovedale.
‘I don’t buy it,’ Winchester said. ‘There is no way this kind of activity would be sanctioned by the Chinese government.’ Scepticism was setting in again.
‘But what if it’s not sanctioned?’ Julie said. ‘What if it’s a venture the government knows nothing about?’
‘Andrew here. Julie, do you have any actual evidence? Copies of documents from Dragon Resources, photographs of the site?’
‘No,’ she said.
Winchester continued, ‘Where does your information come from?’
‘Can’t tell you,’ Julie replied. ‘Actually, there is one other thing. I don’t know what it means or whether it’s even connected. It could be a project name or a code word or something.’
‘Go on,’ Winchester said.
She paused, clearly feeling foolish. ‘Does the word “shepherd” mean anything to any of you?’
Luke almost leaped out of his chair. ‘Of course it does! It’s Shepherd Dome – at the southern end of the Hudsons!’
Winchester cleared his throat. ‘I think it’s time to thank Julie and say goodbye. You’ve been enormously helpful. You may have saved a life.’
‘Really? Okay, well, that’s cool.’
‘Wait,’ Luke broke in. ‘One more question. Does the name General Zhao mean anything to you?’
Silence.
‘Julie? Who is he?’ pressed Luke.
‘Why? Why do you ask?’
Luke could hardly hear her, her bravado gone. ‘I think he’s here,’ he said. ‘Here in Antarctica.’
A gasp – more like sob. ‘Then God help you all.’
‘Julie, what do you mean?’ Luke’s voice betrayed his panic.
No response.
‘Julie! Please.’
‘Your friend is in terrible danger. He’s very high up in the Chinese military. A brutal, cruel man.’
The line went dead. She’d ended the call. For a long moment nobody spoke, shocked by the revelations.
‘Andrew, do you believe me now?’ Luke said.
Winchester cleared his throat. ‘Her story seems possible, but if this General Zhao is in Antarctica, this is much bigger than I can handle. We have to get Canberra involved.’ He rubbed his forehead. ‘In the meantime, Luke, you’ll need to convince the police of your innocence.’
‘I can prove I didn’t start the fire. Let me go to Hope. I can show Alrek the bullets. The bolts drilled to the outside of the exits. But for pity’s sake, man, you have to get the SAS here. Maddie’s in grave danger.’
A rough plan was forming in Luke’s mind. Once at Hope Station, he and Vitaly could steal away. ‘Do the satellite images show anything of the general’s camp?’ he asked.
‘Nothing,’ Lovedale replied. ‘It must be well camouflaged.’
‘Alrek,’ said Winchester, ‘ask the captain to take the ship into Pine Island Bay, as long as it isn’t endangering the people on board. Then wait for further instructions. I need to talk to the Department of Defence and the PM. And Luke?’ The director stared pointedly at his brilliant but rebellious glaciologist. ‘Luke, you’re already in more shit than you can imagine. Do not, repeat, do not attempt to find Maddie. Leave that to the professionals.’
***
It wasn’t until she had ended her call to AARO that Wendy noticed a reply from Robert in her inbox. She felt sick opening his email, and even sicker once she had read it. She curled into a ball and cried.
T MINUS 1 DAY, 2 HOURS, 55 MINUTES
9 March, 9:05 am (UTC-07)
The next morning, Luke stood near one of Hope Station’s giant hydraulic legs, flanked by Vitaly, Alrek, Captain Bolshakov and Rod, the ship’s doctor. Luke was glad he had managed to speak to Jason by phone last night. His son’s joy in life and innocent chatter about a friend’s birthday party had reminded him to stay positive. It gave him strength now, as he looked up at the blackened, gnarled devastation that used to be his home.
Vitaly whistled through his front teeth, shaking his head. Luke knew his friend had seen much destruction and death while in the army, but even he appeared taken aback. Bolshakov, the oldest and least fit of the party, was still puffing after the steep walk from where they had beached the Zodiac. His moustache carried ice crystals of frozen breath, and his head was covered by a fur-lined hat with earflaps. To the surprise of both Luke and Alrek, he had insisted on coming with them, leaving his first officer in charge of the ship.
Between gulps for breath, Bolshakov said something in Russian as he squinted at the collapsed roof. ‘Holy Mother of God,’ Vitaly translated.
Luke felt Alrek’s eyes on him. ‘I didn’t do this. Look, man, for God’s sake! Look. Why on earth would I do this?’
Alrek ignored his question. ‘I’ll check the exit doors for bolts. Luke, take Rod to the bodies. Captain Bolshakov and Vitaly, can you start to search for shell casings in the garage? Be careful, everyone. The structure looks close to collapse.’
The Norwegian had assumed the role of leader and Bolshakov hadn’t challenged him; on land, he was out of his element. Luke was content to let Alrek think he was in charge. When the moment was right, he would put his plan into action.
‘What if the soldiers are still here?’ Rod asked, who had been brought up to speed on the situation.
They all looked around for signs of movement. Vitaly gripped the captain’s Makarov pistol in his bare hand. He had removed his gloves so he could feel the trigger. Alrek, who was carrying an ice axe, had been furious that Bolshakov insisted that Vitaly have the Makarov. Luke was unarmed, at the Norwegian’s insistence.
Bolshakov produced a flick knife. He released the blade, his eyes scanning the terrain. Rod carried nothing but his emergency medical pack. The wind was a low purr and Luke listened for any unusual sound. No gunfire. No unknown voices. No snowmobiles racing in their direction. They appeared to be alone.
Alrek was the first to climb the steps to the main entrance and the exterior walkway. Rod and Luke followed closely. Luke’s heart was racing. He felt his stomach cramping, as if he were going to vomit. Luke stumbled on the top step. He recovered himself and pointed to the bolted exit door. ‘Take a look. Bolts crudely drilled to the outside of the door. It’s the same on the other exit. I was inside, trying to escape.’
‘Show Rod where the bodies are,’ Alrek said, unmoved.
Luke led them along the walkway and, dodging some rubble, stepped through the shattered window of Craig’s room. Rod kneeled down and brushed the snow from Craig’s skinned face, which was now glazed with an icy sheen. Luke turned away.
‘Craig Anderson. Carpenter and fire chief,’ Luke said, his mouth dry. He spoke quietly, with reverence.
Rod nodded, shaken, and staggered to stand. They moved on to what remained of the kitchen, passing the lift shaft.
‘Sue Sadri, plumber, and over there is Dr Frank Stone, known as Blue.’
Luke looked away again. He heard the sound of retching and turned to find Rod being sick.
‘I’ve never seen …’ the doctor began to say. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, then looked up at Luke, his eyes wet. ‘We must get them back to the ship.’ But it was a while before he moved. ‘Terrible,’ he murmured.
Alrek had just joined them, and he reeled backwards when he saw the bodies. His gloved hand shot up to his mouth.
Rod pulled himself together. ‘The others?’
‘Pete MacNamara and Dave Cox were murdered befo
re the fire,’ Luke said. ‘We thought it was a crevasse accident but it wasn’t.’ Luke shook his head at having been so easily duped. ‘Their bodies are in the garage.’
Alrek frowned. ‘Why?’
‘That was the coldest place – except the food freezer, and we couldn’t put our friends …’ Luke couldn’t finish. He simply led Rod and Alrek out of the station and down the steps to the garage, where Vitaly and Bolshakov were searching for shell casings. The bodies of Dave and Mac were a macabre mix of scorched, blackened skin and melted white plastic.
‘I see many bad things in my time,’ Bolshakov said. ‘Many deaths. But this,’ he gestured around, ‘this is act of cowardice. This is like the killing of sheep … How you say?’
‘Slaughter,’ said Rod.
‘That leaves one more person, excluding Madeline Wildman,’ said Alrek. His practicality was jarring to Luke, but he knew the Norwegian was upset. He had turned very pale.
‘Tubs, our chef. He’s at a hut not far from here. Died of a bullet wound to the lung. There’s proof for you. You’ll find an AK-47 bullet in his chest,’ Luke said bitterly. ‘How the hell would I have an AK-47?’
Vitaly plodded over and held out his hand. In it was a shell casing, the size of an AA battery. ‘Nyet, not AK-47, my friend. People always think AK-47. Too many movies. This is from Chinese rifle, QBZ-97. Chinese army use QBZ-95 but it cannot take M-16 ammunition. So they cannot sell this to other countries. They develop the 97 so it can take M-16 ammunition. This,’ he held up the cartridge casing and swivelled it in his callused fingers, ‘is a small casing. It come from Chinese QBZ-97.’
‘How do you know that?’ Alrek challenged.
The bull-necked Russian squared up to Alrek. ‘In the Russian army we fight with AK-74s. Seventy-four, not forty-seven,’ he emphasised. ‘But I study the weapons of my enemy. I study American M-16 and Chinese QBZ-95 and 97.’ He handed the casing to the Norwegian. ‘Show your people. They will tell you Vitaly is correct.’
Alrek stared at the shell for a long moment and then looked up at Luke. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Luke. It just seemed so …’
‘Unreal? Tell me about it,’ said Luke.
Luke held out his hand. Alrek shook it, then spoke again. ‘You’ve been through hell. I … I’ll report in to Winchester. The priority is to find Madeline.’
‘Maddie.’ Luke corrected him.
‘Yes. I’ll work on Winchester – we need the SAS here immediately.’ Alrek left the garage, and soon they heard him talking into his satellite phone.
Vitaly turned his back to Alrek and checked Rod was out of earshot. He whispered, ‘Snowmobile. It work?’ He nodded at the last snowmobile parked at the end of the line. All the other vehicles looked too badly damaged to be useful. ‘We take it?’
Rod joined Alrek outside and asked him to organise more men to help carry the bodies back to the Zodiac. They would also need the second boat for transportation.
Luke inspected the snowmobile. The compartment under the seat contained a complete recovery kit, including ropes, ice hammer and harness. He couldn’t believe his luck. At last something was going right for a change. It needed fuel but the petrol storage tank had escaped the conflagration; it was situated some distance from the main building. Luke turned the ignition and it started perfectly. ‘Let’s fill her up and get out of here,’ he said.
Bolshakov touched Vitaly’s shoulder. He held up his flick knife, now closed. ‘You take this,’ he said. ‘And give my Baikal-442 to Luke.’
Vitaly placed the second gun in Luke’s hand.
‘When were you going to tell me about this?’ Luke asked, surprised to learn that the Russians had more weapons.
‘There is a saying in Russia. “When two knows, then the pig knows.” It means that once you tell your secret, everyone knows,’ said Vitaly. ‘I did not want Alrek to have this gun.’
Luke understood. He put the Baikal-442 in his inside pocket. ‘Thank you, Captain.’
‘You must go,’ Bolshakov ordered. ‘We will look after the dead. You have my word.’
The three men were huddled together in close conversation and hadn’t noticed Alrek approaching. ‘I’m coming with you,’ the Norwegian said.
No one responded.
‘Winchester is asking for immediate SAS deployment,’ Alrek continued, ‘but it will take them around nine hours to get here, weather permitting.’ He looked up at the grey sky. ‘Andrew says it’s most likely they’ll parachute in, but there’s a blizzard warning for dusk. So,’ Alrek clapped his gloved hands together, ‘it could be up to us.’
‘Are you sure?’ Luke asked, stunned by his change of heart.
Alrek moved closer. ‘I’m sure. After seeing this, I can’t just wait here. Tomorrow could be too late.’
‘They’ve killed six people already. If they catch us, they’ll kill us.’
‘ “For fred og frihet.” That’s what my national service medal says. For peace and freedom. These people have threatened the peace of this place, and our peace too. I’ve made up my mind. I’m just sorry I didn’t believe you earlier.’
Luke glanced at Vitaly, who shrugged his agreement to their third team member.
‘Welcome aboard,’ Luke said, slapping Alrek on the back.
‘Captain,’ said Alrek, ‘will you liaise with AARO? Keep pushing for the SAS to come as soon as possible.’
Bolshakov nodded and took the satellite phone from Alrek.
‘Okay, Luke,’ Alrek said. ‘What’s next?’
‘We have one working snowmobile. Two of us can ride it but not three. If we can find a trailer or sled, one of us can ride in that. It’ll be bumpy but it’ll get us there. We’ll have to cross the full width of the glacier tongue and then turn inland, following the line of the Hudson Mountains. We’ll carry spare fuel.’
‘Take this,’ Bolshakov said, handing Luke his two-way radio. ‘Good to have a spare radio.’
‘Can we make it before nightfall?’ asked Alrek.
‘I hope so, but we’ve got a tent and sleeping bags. A stove. Enough food.’
‘Only two sleeping bags,’ said Vitaly.
‘Well, we’ll just have to huddle up,’ Alrek said cheerfully.
Vitaly raised his eyes at the idea of huddling close to Alrek and Luke couldn’t help but laugh.
T MINUS 19 HOURS, 46 MINUTES
9 March, 4:14 pm (UTC-07)
It had taken all day to cross the width of the Pine Island Glacier and turn inland, following the lower slopes of the Hudson Mountains. Towing a trailer had slowed their pace, and Luke had begun to wonder if bringing Alrek was a good idea. They were only equipped for two.
As they’d got closer to the killers’ camp, Luke had made the decision to leave the snowmobile behind, together with the spare radio for emergencies. He was afraid the engine noise might give them away. Now the three men were tied together in a line as they trudged the last one hundred metres. Daylight was fading fast and a storm was threatening. Luke was in front, taking the worst of the wind’s pummelling, then Vitaly, and finally Alrek, who seemed to cope with the gusts and the snowdrifts as if he were strolling across a lawn on a summer’s day.
Luke felt a tug on the rope behind him. Vitaly’s foot had sunk knee deep into the soft surface ice and he’d fallen forward. Luke pulled him up.
‘Do I need to carry you?’ Luke grinned behind his balaclava. As he spoke, ice the size of sugar granules flew into his mouth and melted on his tongue. He clamped his jaw shut quickly.
Vitaly pushed down the scarf coiled round his mouth and neck. ‘You are very funny man. Ha!’ He brushed the snow off his waterproof trousers. ‘You want me to take the lead now?’
Luke imagined his friend parting the storm like the prow of a big ship, but he was best equipped to spot a crevasse hidden by snow so he declined the offer. He eyed with trepidation the looming clouds, which hung over the Hudsons like a filthy net curtain. He turned into the wind and began moving again.
A few
minutes later, Luke held up his hand to signal a halt. According to Julie’s coordinates, they should be almost at Dragon Resources’ camp. The three men ducked behind an icy, dune-like sastrugi and peered downhill. They could see nothing but a rolling expanse of ice below them.
Luke pulled out his binoculars. The snowy spindrift made visibility difficult. He scanned the area methodically, willing the camp to materialise. At last he saw something and pointed. ‘There.’
The sun was low and light was poor, so the site would have been impossible to spot if a couple of tents hadn’t glowed softly, like Chinese lanterns.
‘Let’s move closer,’ Luke said. ‘But keep your head down.’
They crept downhill and nearer the camp, then they hid behind a group of boulders, each one the size of a small car. By peering through a narrow gap, Luke could just make out some tiny triangular red flags on poles, which marked the camp’s perimeter. But there was no national flag, which was unusual in Antarctica. The tents were a light colour – probably white – and white canopies covered what might be vehicles. No wonder the satellite image hadn’t revealed their position. Even the generator had been painted white, as had a long line of shipping containers. Three Weatherhaven tents stood side by side, their entrances facing away from the wind. A snowmobile was parked outside one of them and its red paint drew Luke’s attention like a beacon. Further along, there were six smaller pyramid tents.
‘Why are there so many storage containers?’ Alrek whispered.
‘I guess they have a lot of equipment,’ Luke replied.
‘I hope they are not full of explosives,’ said Vitaly, sucking on his teeth.
There must have been twenty containers, painted white, all of them the maximum size a tractor train could transport across the ice.
‘Explosives?’ Alrek frowned.
‘Da,’ said Vitaly, with no explanation. ‘Why is there no guard?’