by Ethan Jones
“Trust me. He has many, many other reasons to be furious with me. Just keep an eye on Carrie, and I’ll take care of this.”
Justin looked over across the road. The three Seahawks were touching down over the permafrost. A cloud of snow dust surrounded them, as their blades began to slow down. “Let’s go, guys.” He gestured toward the Seahawks and led a group of ten men.
Anna followed one step behind him, her rifle ready to shoot at a moment’s notice.
Chapter Thirty
Nanisivik, Canada
April 14, 12:03 p.m.
Colonel Richard Clark was dressed in the same navy blue uniform as the first time Justin had met him, with a black felt overcoat that hung down to his knees. A deep frown was carved in his face.
“Commander,” Justin said with a respectful nod.
His team stood at about fifty feet away from the commander and his men, seven people in all, who were lined up in front of their helicopters. They were carrying assault rifles and looked more like a SWAT team than a rescue dispatch.
“I owe you a big apology,” Justin said.
The commander gave Justin a smirk.
“OK, two apologies. I took Emily with me, and I borrowed your chopper. But it was for a very noble reason.”
“Go on, I’m listening.”
“I have the evidence to convince you of the Danish attack. We’ve just survived a long and harsh battle. Many good men are dead or gravely wounded. We have captured a few of the Danes, who will testify to their evil plans, reasons, motives, and whatever you want to ask them.”
“You don’t have to convince me of anything.” He gestured with his hand to his troops to relax their position. “I’m sure Sergeant Moore told you about the landing coordinates of the Super Hercules,” he said in a quiet voice, although a certain degree of anger was still evident in his words. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here. In a way, you could say she did you all a big, big favor.”
“She did, you’re right. In fact, I can truly say she saved our lives, a great number of our lives.”
“I’m glad we agree on something. As soon as we intercepted the Hercules, we contacted the Canadian Forces to establish the identity and the objective of this plane. After confirmations that the plane was not Canadian, we demanded clarifications from Denmark. Their replies were vague, at best. They had scheduled a wargame for later in the week, but it was supposed to take place in international waters and airspace, not deep into Canadian territory. After we received this information, and as soon as the Canadian Forces authorized me to fly into the Canadian airspace and retrieve one of my own, I rushed in.”
“Did you blast the Hercules to smithereens?” Anna asked.
“No. The airplane exploded all of a sudden.”
“We tried to stop it from taking off. I guess our firepower must have damaged its flying systems,” Justin said.
The commander shrugged. “I’m up to my neck in a matter that doesn’t pertain to me. You and Canada can clean up your mess.”
Justin nodded and exchanged a quick glance with Anna. “OK. The Seahawk was shot down and the pilot, Carrie, is unconscious, fighting for her life. I will kindly ask for your help to fly her and my other wounded men to a hospital. The closest one is in Iqaluit.”
The commander took one step forward. “I guess this battle has taught you how to ask politely when you want something, huh? My clearance does not involve the transportation of Canadian army troops or irregular militia.”
“I’m sure you have access to the right channels to ask for such an authorization. Many people are gravely wounded. They will die if not provided immediately with extensive medical attention.”
The commander held Justin’s pleading gaze for a brief moment. “All right. I’ll get the necessary authorization, and we’ll take your people on board. The only restriction will be the one imposed by the choppers’ capacity.”
“Thank you. I’m very much obliged.”
He dismissed Justin’s gratitude with a wave of his hand. “I don’t see Emily among your people.” His tone of voice expressed clear disappointment.
“Hmm, that… yes… about Emily.” Justin chewed the words in his mouth.
“Is she dead?” he asked without any emotion. “You can tell me the truth.”
“No, she’s not dead.”
“So, where is she? Didn’t she recognize the Seahawks?”
“I was… I understand you and Emily exchanged some… some harsh words.”
The commander moved closer to Justin. “Harsh words is a euphemism.” He lowered his voice to a harsh whisper. “Sergeant Moore disobeyed a clear and direct order. She was willing to put my own life and the life of my men in great danger and force us into a war we have no part in. Now, where is she hiding?” He looked over Justin’s shoulder toward a cluster of trucks further down the road.
“Emily has been a tremendous help to us and—”
“Save it, Hall. If she’s a hero for Canada, then honor her bravery with a medal. But she disgraced her country, and she’ll be lucky if she doesn’t get court marshaled.”
“Commander, I’m sure we can come to an agr—”
“Yes, an agreement. Hand over the traitor, and I’ll save your girlfriend and your wounded friends.”
Justin shook his head. “I don’t think that’s going to cut it. Emily deserves praise for her bravery, not punishment for taking a stand. I’m not going to let that happen.”
Ned moved his M-16 rifle a little farther from his chest and settled his finger on the trigger.
“Maybe that’s how you do things here in Canada, stealing copters from allies, kidnapping their soldiers and using them as human shields. In the US—”
“In the US you like to force other countries to agree to military bases in their land, like the one you run in Greenland, under the excuse of space surveillance and defense operations, joint security initiatives and other bullshit like that.”
It was the commander’s men’s turn to tighten their grip around their weapons.
Justin raised his right hand, gesturing to his men to stay calm. “Those helicopters, the Seahawks behind you, were stationed in Greenland without the knowledge and the authorization of its government authorities. This is in clear violation of the treaty for the expansion of your base. It’s in your own best interest and in the interest of the US that your secret about these violations does not end up on the cover of New York Times.”
A somber mood fell over the commander’s face. “I have… I have no idea what you’re talking about, Hall,” he stuttered, waving his arms in agitation. “And you’re badly mistaken if you think you’re in a position to impose your terms on me.”
“We’re simply negotiating a peaceful and acceptable solution to everyone. We’ll be tight-lipped about your choppers. You have our word.”
Anna nodded and so did Ned. The commander began pacing back and forth. Justin focused his attention at the men standing by the Seahawks. A shootout was going to be nobody’s victory. Justin hoped the commander would make the right decision.
“What does she want?” he whispered in a low voice. He avoided Justin’s eyes, staring instead at the slushy ground around his boots.
“Emily, Sergeant Moore, will have to agree to these terms, but I believe an honorable discharge or a transfer to a detail equal to her current position is a fair deal.” Justin delivered his proposal in one quick sentence, before the commander could change his mind about reaching a compromise.
The commander entertained the proposal for a minute in his mind. At some point, he opened his mouth, but then shook his head, snapped his fingers and said nothing. He hesitated another second, then spoke in a quiet voice, “We have a deal. You’ll forget about the Seahawks, and she’ll get a transfer to Alaska or some other God-forsaken place.”
“Thank you,” Justin said.
“Thank you, sir,” Anna said with a respectful nod.
“Don’t mention it.” The commander turned around and swaggered tow
ard the helicopters. “My men will help you bring in the wounded. We’ll leave as soon as everyone’s loaded up.”
“This way.” Justin guided the American soldiers. “Follow me.”
* * *
Ten minutes later, Emily had set up a temporary medical center in the second Seahawk. Kiawak’s stretcher was the first one to be lifted up there.
“The old wolf fought well.” His voice was weak and shaky. A bloody cough made his breathing very difficult.
“That he did,” Joe said. “A brave man. A true warrior.”
“He gave his own life to save ours,” said Kiawak. “That is… eh… amazing that is.”
“Both of you gave your best too,” Justin said. “The battle was won because you guys and the rest of the men gave their best.”
“Eh.” Joe waved off the praise with a shrug. “Get well, Kiawak. I’ll be missing you, and so will everyone else in town. But most importantly, someone very special is already waiting for your return in Arctic Bay.”
Kiawak rolled his eyes.
“Uh-huh.” Joe reached for Kiawak’s arm. “I will not let you go until you promise me you’ll talk things over with Tania. She’s too good of a girl to lose. Promise me!”
“Joe, I need to give Kiawak some morphine,” Emily said.
“Sure, in a minute,” Joe replied. “C’mon, buddy.”
Kiawak mumbled something that could be interpreted as anything but a promise.
“I’m not kidding,” Joe insisted. “You’ve got to make things work with Tania. You owe her a second chance.”
Emily raised a tall syringe with the exposed needle for everyone to see then brought it close to Joe’s hand. “Last warning. I’m not kidding either.”
Joe ignored her words.
Kiawak mustered a feeble smile. “I do. I promise.”
Joe withdrew his arm, and Emily administered the painkiller injection. Justin waved at Kiawak, whose bloodshot eyes grew heavier. He was no longer able to keep them open.
“Justin, you didn’t have to pull that miracle with the Commander,” Emily said, jumping off the helicopter. “But, thank you.” She gave him a tight, warm embrace.
“It’s the least I can do. Like I keep saying, without you, I don’t think I would be alive. I don’t think most of us would be alive at all.”
“Oh, stop it,” she said with a smile. “You’re making me blush.”
“It’s the chilling wind. Thank you again and sorry for everything.”
Emily shrugged. “Don’t worry about Carrie. I’ll take care of her as if you were sitting next to her bed, holding her hand.” She gestured toward Carrie. Her stretcher was being lifted into the helicopter.
“I don’t think she would want me to do that anymore.” Justin stroke Carrie’s hair. “I mean the holding of hands. I’ll be in the next flight. We still have a chopper in Arctic Bay.”
“Oh, yeah. If I knew how to fly it, I would have brought it here. It would have been much quicker.”
“You came just at the right time,” Anna said and gave Emily a gentle hug. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” she replied. “Goodbye.”
“Sergeant Moore, it’s time to go,” one of the sergeants whispered in her ear. “The commander wants to get the hell out of here now.”
“OK, I’ll be ready in a second,” she said in a cold, dry voice. She waved at Justin and Anna. “Take care, friends.” She hesitated a second before adding the last word, but once it came out, she reinforced her thought with a friendly smile.
A minute later, the three Seahawks were airborne.
Chapter Thirty-one
Nanisivik, Canada
April 14, 12:31 p.m.
“Magnus, that’s your name, right?” Justin asked the prisoner, shoving him into the backseat of the truck, next to Anna. The makeshift handcuffs fastening Magnus’s arms behind his back made his climb into the souped-up truck a bit difficult, since he was already limping. Joe started the truck, and Justin sat behind the driver, to the left of Magnus.
“Where are we going?” Magnus asked.
“Arctic Bay,” Justin replied. “So tell me. You’re Magnus Tornbjorn?”
“Yes,” Magnus replied. He winced as he lay back in the seat.
Emily had done a great job of treating the cuts and bruises on his face, but his back and his legs had suffered severe trauma during the explosion. With not much external bleeding and given the limited space in the helicopters, Magnus was out of luck. Besides, Justin wanted to have a quiet little chat with him before flying to Iqaluit.
“OK, Magnus, what was the objective of the Danish Security Service?”
“You mean the Danish Defense Intelligence Service, who designed, executed, and finally botched up this operation?”
Justin snorted. “Come on, Magnus. We know you’re the biggest fish of our catch.”
“You’re right about that. The whale, the big whale, got away. But after all, his blubber blew up to pieces in the Hercules explosion.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The mastermind behind this mission, coded Arctic Wargame, is Gunter Madsen, an Assistant Director with the Danish Defense Intelligence Service.”
“And you’re just a simple foot soldier, is that what you’re saying?” Anna asked.
“Of course not, although the idea crossed my mind.” A small grin appeared on Magnus’s tired face. “I was Chief of Operations. I was in charge of the tactical preps for this mission.”
“And?” Joe asked. “Go on. Keep talking.”
“And I have nothing else to say until we agree on the conditions of my release.”
“Huh?” Anna said.
Joe and Justin shook their heads.
“I don’t think you’re going anywhere,” Anna said. “We know how you planned the takeover of the transport plane, and we know about your plans for this and other terrorist attacks in Canada. We know everything.” She was making things up to provoke a reaction from Magnus.
“Anna, that’s more than enough,” Justin said.
“Well then, if you know everything, why are you asking me? If you’re so confident you’ve caught a terrorist, this case is closed. Hand me over to the Americans. During the flight to Egypt or Jordan, to one of their extraordinary rendition bases, I’ll tell them my side of story. Maybe they’ll show some interest in hearing my version of the facts and meet my request for political asylum.”
What does he think he has up his sleeve? And why would he want political asylum? What’s he afraid of back home?
The truck hit an ice bump. Ammunition boxes rattled in the back of the truck.
Justin rubbed his eyes with his palms then stroked his chin, replaying Magnus’s words in his mind. “Fine,” he said. “Let’s hear it, but there are no strings attached. No preconditions, no ultimatums.” He waited for Magnus to acknowledge his understanding, which he did by nodding. Justin continued, “I need credible evidence that what you’re claiming is, in fact, true.”
“The black box. Let’s begin with the Hercules’s black box. Once you retrieve the box and the bodies of Gunter and the two pilots, you’ll have more than you need to doubt the ‘official’ version of the story you may have heard.”
“Clever move,” Joe said, gazing at Magnus’s face in the rear-view mirror. “The plane exploded over the freezing waters of the Inlet. It will take months and a crap load of money to find anything, and that’s if we’re lucky, very lucky.”
“I’m sure you have something else, let’s say, more concrete and at hand,” Justin said.
“All right, how about transfer records of prisoners? A quick search of transfers in the main prisons in Denmark will reveal a common trait. The most dangerous criminals were transferred to a separate facility, with, I guess now you know what mission.”
“You mean the Danish troops were common criminals?” Anna asked.
“Well, not exactly ‘common,’ but they weren’t regular army either. Bank robbers, terrorists, murderers, arson
ists, you name it. Most of them I handpicked myself.”
“This sounds more like a stalling tactic than useful information,” Justin said.
He stared attentively at Magnus’s face. The prisoner’s eyes were clear and focused, their gaze steady and determined. He did not stutter when talking, and he expressed his thoughts concisely and without pauses. I can’t tell if he’s making this up. If he is, he’s doing a great job keeping it all together. Will making him nervous reveal anything?
“These facilities, prisons, they are in Denmark, outside our jurisdiction,” Justin said, “I can’t think of any good reason for your government to accept our request or to issue clearances for us to inspect these records or visit these places.”
Magnus frowned. He winced, as Joe cut through a curve a bit faster than necessary. The truck bounced over a cluster of ice bumps on the road.
“Well, I don’t know what else would convince you,” Magnus said. “You can ask Valgerda, but you’ll think she’s my partner, so, of course, she’ll try to save me. And herself. You can ask the other men, but they also have a personal interest in this matter, and they’re hardcore criminals, so there goes their credibility.”
Magnus’s voice had no hint of desperation, just resignation. “One of them, a man called Sargon, whom I recruited personally, will confirm my words. But then, he’s a convicted terrorist staring at a life sentence, so there you have it. At some point, you’ll have to decide whether you want to trust me or not.” Magnus jerked up his shoulders and turned his head first toward Justin, then toward Anna.
“I want to trust you,” Justin said. “But after trying to kill me and my friends, trust doesn’t come easy.”
The next few minutes they drove in silence, broken only by Joe’s occasional cursing at the slippery patches on the road. Justin looked out the window at the rolling ice hills, followed by short segments of flatland, and by more rolling ice hills. He kept the prisoner within the corner of his eye, and every so often observed Magnus’s behavior for any signs of surrender. He found none.