by Andy Lucas
Suddenly lost in the protective cover of the blizzard, Sharpe steered the little vehicle with great skill, slewing it around the buildings and heading for the snow road that would take them across to McMurdo. He had driven the route countless times before and was confident he could get them there quickly, even in the storm. His only insistence was that the headlights were switched on, which at least gave them a few metres of visibility ahead.
Behind them, Thatcher already lay dead; stitched with a dozen bullets fired through the door when he refused to move his foot away. The guard had tried shoulder-barging it twice but the pressure lock had held. Thatcher had been ordered to move away but he knew he could not. But he died well, sliding into oblivion while the chaos of the discovered escape raged all around his body.
22
They should have made it with time to spare but it was not quite that simple. Fiona’s men had been at Scott Base for a couple of days and had used the time to set up some basic defences in case anyone meddled from McMurdo, which they knew was their only possible issue. The ice road was well worn and obviously the way that people moved between the two sites.
So they had mined it.
The explosion that rocked the Hagglund lifted it up in the air before slamming it back down hard, accompanied by the sound of rent plastic and metal.
Fortunately, the mercenaries had used anti-personnel mines, designed to remove a soldier’s feet. The explosive yield was fairly low but they were buried just below the snow, stretching across the entire width of the road. The tractor unit had missed them entirely but the rear unit, carrying all the scientists and Hammond, had detonated three simultaneously with its wide tracks.
The combined force of the explosions rendered the rear unit useless, although the steel chassis and floor prevented any shrapnel from penetrating. Two of the tracks were destroyed and the umbilical was sliced clean through.
Pace was the only one able to leave the life-saving heat of the cabin, in his survival suit, and he was out like a greyhound but then warily stepping over to the smoking rear unit, watching for telltale signs of further mines.
Making it to the unit unscathed, blinking through the blizzard, he pulled open the door and was very relieved to see that everyone was alive. Climbing in, he closed the door firmly behind him to retain as much of the warm air as possible now that the heater unit had died with the severing of the umbilical. There were several cuts and bumps evident amongst the human occupants but nothing serious. He was also delighted to be greeted by the feigned nonchalance of a conscious Hammond.
‘So much for a rescue,’ quipped his friend. ‘I don’t know. I leave you alone for a couple of days and look what happens? Nightmare.’
‘Glad to see you back in the land of the living,’ Pace shot back.
‘How bad is it?’ Hammond was suddenly serious. ‘Can we drive?’
‘I think the tractor unit is fine but this section is finished, I’m afraid. The tracks are off and the power coupling has been destroyed.’
Hammond eyed the swirling snow beyond the glass. ‘It looks a little chilly outside. Can we all fit inside the tractor?’
Pace shook his head. ‘Sorry. If we squeeze hard, I’m hoping that all these people can be squashed inside but you and I will have to ride on the roof.’
‘That’s fine,’ nodded Hammond. ‘We have our survival suits to keep us alive.’ He cast a glance around him, at the scared faces of the others. ‘How long have we got?’
‘No time at all. They know we made it out. I don’t know if they’ve got their own vehicles here but there’s at least one other Hagglund in the garage they can use to chase us. They could be here any moment,’
‘I’m assuming we ran over a mine?’
‘Several. They’re far more prepared than I gave them credit for. God only knows what else they might have booby-trapped.’
‘Then we have to head off the beaten track,’ said Hammond flatly. ‘Go where they wouldn’t expect us to.’
Pace nodded in agreement. The Hagglund was designed to go anywhere. With multiple drives and the benefit of being completely amphibious as well, they were in the perfect vehicle to head out across the ice sheet, or up into the icy hills that overlooked Scott Base.
‘Then let’s go,’ Pace ordered calmly. ‘Everyone will have to make a run for the tractor vehicle. Follow in my footsteps before the snow fills them. It’s only a few metres so you can all make it. As soon as you’re in, find a space and help everyone else inside. I’ll close the door when you’re all inside then Max and I will climb on to the roof, understand?’
The scientists all nodded, or said that they understood, so they wasted no time putting the plan into action. Within two minutes, the tractor unit was lurching back down the road and heading out towards the flat expanse of the ice sheet, with Hammond and Pace clinging to the roof rails for dear life.
Pace had shouted the plan very briefly to Sharpe, to make himself heard above the howling wind, before slamming the last scientist inside the safety of the cabin and clambering up on to the roof. Sharpe would drive them a few miles out on to the ice before stopping and allowing a few minutes for them to decide on a better plan. For now, it was just imperative to put as much distance between themselves and any pursuers as possible.
The ride was smoother than it might have been, with Sharpe driving out across a smooth stretch of frozen sea that reached out a mile or so from the island at this point. Thick and solid, with no fear yet of the summer melt breaking it up, the Hagglund powered easily across it at twenty miles an hour. Sharpe could have accelerated to over fifty miles an hour, if he’d needed to, but he preferred to take it steady.
Heading straight out, towards the distant point where the ice met fluid, unfrozen ocean, he stared grimly through the sweeping wiper blades and made sure he didn’t run into any unexpected ice cracks or raised pressure ridges.
After ten minutes, he eased the vehicle to a stop, leaving the engine idling throatily to keep the cabin heaters working.
Pace and Hammond climbed down and stood on the snow-covered ice. Staring around, they watched the wind whip up curtains of snow and minute ice crystals in dancing, gyrating nightmare.
Pace motioned for Sharpe to lower the driver’s window a few millimetres, just so they could talk. Even this tiny amount caused the cabin temperature to plummet twenty degrees in two seconds, so he had to make it quick.
‘Can we make McMurdo from here?’
‘No problem,’ said Sharpe. ‘All I need to do is turn us parallel with the ocean and hug the coastline until we bump right into it. It’s built right on the water’s edge, with its own harbour and jetty.’
‘How long?’ shouted Hammond, feeling a little happier now that the numbing wind had frozen his swollen face enough to ease the throbbing pain of his recent beating.
‘Not long, even from here. We can keep up a good speed. Ten minutes, give or take.’
‘Then what are we waiting for?’ asked a very squashed, uncomfortable Stacey from somewhere in the back. ‘Let’s get there.’
‘That’s what they’ll expect us to try,’ said Pace, pulling the hood as tightly around his face as he could, against the needle-prick bite of the scything ice crystals. ‘I’m betting they’ll be waiting for us when we get there.’
‘It’s possible,’ agreed Sharpe. ‘But what choice do we have? At least we stand a fighting chance if we can get to the American station. I’m sure they’ll have a few guns over there, which we’re going to need.’
‘These people have already proven themselves to be ruthless,’ decided Pace. ‘We need to avoid falling into any traps.’
‘Why not double back to Scott Base?’ suggested Hammond. ‘They won’t expect that.’
‘You’d be right, if we hadn’t triggered those mines.’
‘What do they have to do with anything?’ asked Sharpe.
‘Simple,’ explained Pace. ‘They destroyed the rear cargo unit. When those mercenaries find it wrecked, they won’t
know if any of us were killed, or have been injured. They might find our tracks, and be on us any minute but I’ll bet your life they leave a few people behind in case any of us have been hurt and try to sneak back indoors somewhere.
‘That’s a good point,’ agreed Hammond. ‘Whatever we’re going to do, standing around in the middle of a gigantic piece of flat ice is not going to help us very much.’
Pace smiled at his friend’s impatience. He was a man of action and hated waiting around.
‘I have an idea. It’s a bit off the wall but they definitely won’t expect it.’
‘I’m all ears,’ shouted Hammond, as a powerful gust threatened to tear his hands from the vehicle. Gripping tighter, he waited to be enlightened.
‘Now that we have this vehicle, we can go anywhere on the ice, right?’
‘Sure,’ beamed Sharpe proudly. ‘This thing will go anywhere you need it to, including swimming around if you misjudge the thickness of an ice sheet and find yourself falling through.
‘But it isn’t bulletproof? The body looks like plastic, or composite, am I right?’
‘Right again. It has a steel chassis but the bodywork is made from glass reinforced plastic, which keeps it light.’ He paused for a breath. ‘Bullets would shred it in seconds, and us with it.’
‘So,’ Pace grinned, ‘we’re going to need some protection and some firepower.’
‘Of course,’ shot Hammond sarcastically. ‘Let’s just pop over to the nearest military depot and go shopping.’
‘Exactly my thought,’ agreed Pace, the smile slipping from his sore face. ‘And I know just where to go.’ Addressing Sharpe again, he asked, ‘Does this thing have GPS?’ Sharpe nodded, pointing a finger at the unit attached to the top of the dashboard. ‘Good.’ Fishing inside one of his pockets, he pulled out a small slip of paper with a set of hastily scribbled coordinates, that he had written in a different time, and place. He handed the slip of paper to Sharpe. ‘We need to get here, fast.’
Sharpe punched in the co-ordinates and waited as the machine sorted a heading and distance.
‘That’s about an hour away, over land and ice.’ He told them. ‘The journey will be no problem for a Hagglund.’
‘Fuel?’
We always run with full tanks. It’s a mandatory safety protocol down here. There is enough fuel aboard for six hours driving.’
‘Right,’ snapped Pace, eyes burning as hope was reborn inside him. ‘Let’s go.’
The lives of all these people rested on his shoulders and he was about to grasp the very thinnest of straws in a desperate bid to save them all, himself included. He had no desire to die and Sarah’s image chose that very second to pop back into his mind’s eye, reminding him of everything he had to get home for.
Back up on the roof, huddled closely with Hammond so they could hear each other above the worsening blizzard, hanging on to the roof rails more tightly than ever, they discussed his plan. Hammond could find no fault in Pace’s logic and agreed that it might give them the edge they needed. Maybe.
Unable to do anything but hang on and endure the ride, the two friends became lost in their own thoughts while Sharpe’s expert driving skills steered the Hagglund off the ice and onto the undulating vista of snow-crusted land. Guided by the precision of the GPS, Sharpe was determined to get them to the coordinates in one piece although he had no idea where they were driving to, or why Pace seemed so sure that it was their best option.
As far as he knew, there was nothing out there but frozen emptiness.
Up on the roof, Pace kept a wary eye behind them. He could not see more than three metres before everything dissolved into a white blur but he knew, deep down, that they were following. He hoped he was wrong, and that the heavy snow had covered their tracks before anyone else spotted them, but he had underestimated them before.
He assumed they were good enough to track them, which they were.
23
They stopped behind a low ridge, several hundred metres from the coordinates. The storm continued to blow hard, leaving Pace no chance of seeing what lay ahead until he was virtually on top of it.
Giving Sharpe very careful instructions, he and Hammond made their way around the ridge and struck out in the direction they needed to go. The ice underfoot covered dry land, just on the edge of the sea, and it undulated in a vista of small mounds and hillocks.
Trying to stick to the lower areas in between the rises meant wading through some fairly thick, fresh snow, which helped them keep their footing. The going was slow but steady, with neither man worrying about concealment as Mother Nature was handling that part of the operation for them.
Pace had not seen the old base from the outside before and neither had Hammond. Something that had managed to stay hidden for a century was bound to be difficult to find. In the end, they were pleasantly surprised, finding it very easily because of the sloppy, approach that Fiona’s team had opted for when they’d hoped to trap Pace inside.
The location of the entrance was brilliantly shielded and would have been impossible to spot if the two garage doors, rent and crumpled, had not materialised through the snow curtain as they arrived at the coordinates.
At the end of a short gulley, sandwiched between two imposing rock slices, the white-painted doors would have blended perfectly with the surroundings when closed properly.
‘No wonder nobody ever found it, in this Godforsaken place,’ shouted Hammond, even though he was standing barely a foot away from Pace.
‘You would struggle, even if you knew where to look,’ agreed Pace, nodding. ‘But those bruisers have left the door open for us.’
‘It would be rude not to take them up on their kind invitation,’ ventured Hammond slyly. The pain in his injuries, numbed by the wind, was manageable and he found his sense of humour returning.
‘We wouldn’t want to be looked at as ill-mannered guests,’ said Pace. ‘Let’s go and say hello.’
The space behind the damaged doors lay in darkness. Pace had banked on the fact that Fiona’s team was fairly small. She needed all her manpower back at Scott Base until he flew them across for another search. Nobody would want to be left stranded here, with no power or heat, for any amount of money.
‘Do you think anybody’s home?’
‘No, hopefully not. We’ll be careful anyway, just in case they left a token guard.’
‘Sod his luck, if they did,’ said Hammond.
Inside the garage, their frozen noses caught the aged scent of oil and grease as they stepped cautiously out of the blizzard, edging past the huge tarpaulin-covered mound in the centre of the floor. Hammond nodded towards it, raising a quizzical eyebrow. Pace smiled in reply and beckoned him over to the far door, which was closed.
‘Later,’ he promised. ‘For now, let’s stick to the plan.’
‘Lead on then and stop wasting time nattering.’
‘Of course,’ Pace replied good-naturedly. He had taken an emergency flashlight from the cabin of the Hagglund, which he held loosely in his hand as he cracked the door and listened. The passageway beyond was pitch black and as silent as the grave.
‘Anything?’ asked Hammond, from over his shoulder.
Pace shook his head, waited for another few seconds, and then flicked on the torch. The powerful beam sliced through the darkness with distain as they headed off down towards the lower levels.
Entering the lower chamber, Pace flashed the light around the leering, fleshless faces of the dead German submariners, smiling as though he was visiting old friends. Exactly as he’d thought, Fiona’s men had orders to search for vials and gold. They weren’t interested in disturbing the dead, although he was sure they would have been as curious as he was when they first clapped eyes on the impromptu mausoleum.
‘Bingo,’ breathed Hammond, ignoring the throbbing that was beginning to return to his face as the numb skin began to warm a little.
Just as they had not touched the corpses, Fiona’s men had completely ignored the armou
ry of old weapons. Pace and Hammond grabbed up three Mauser 98 rifles each from the dozens scattered around, then proceeded to collect as many cartridge magazines as they could.
The sense of déjà vu for Pace was only offset by Hammond’s presence.
‘What about pistols?’ wondered Hammond. He noted a few belt holsters on the dead submariners.
‘These rifles are more than enough,’ said Pace. ‘We’ll need to be at long range if we’re going to stand a chance against the men we’re about to fight. If we’re close enough to use handguns, their automatic weapons will tear us to pieces.’
‘Good point. Let’s just make sure we’ve got enough bullets for the rifles and get back to the others.’
They had not been inside the old base for more than five minutes before they stepped back into the garage, where the tarpaulin again clamoured for Hammond’s attention.
‘What’s under there?’ he asked, as they walked up to it. ‘Anything we can use?’
Pace chuckled. ‘I don’t think so. Come on, let’s go.’
‘That didn’t answer my question,’ muttered Hammond, under his breath, as he followed Pace back out into the storm.
They made it back to the ridge a few minutes later, where they stood for a moment, at a loss. The Hagglund should have been there, waiting for them but it was gone. Looking down, both of their hearts lurched as they saw the clear imprint of multiple tracks in the snow. The tracks led away into the white-out.
The enemy had found them and the only saving grace was that there was no sign of a smoking, bullet-riddled Hagglund anywhere in sight. Sharpe had clearly had enough warning to make a run for it. He was now out there somewhere on the ice, driving hard to stay alive. To underline these thoughts, from somewhere far away, suddenly came the muffled sound of intermittent gunshots.
‘Those poor devils don’t stand a chance,’ spat Hammond. He considered the rifles slung over his shoulder, now impotent and useless. He and Pace had taken too long to get back and now the scientists’ stay of execution was being revoked.