Arctic Wargame - Страница 23

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Yuliya hesitated for a second. Magnus crossed his fingers and muttered a silent wish.

“Gunter and I will be on the same plane.”

Her words cut deep, but Magnus held his cool. His throat and his lips became suddenly dry.

“There’s… there’s nothing else,” he said.

Valgerda shook her head.

“OK, see you tomorrow.”

“Bye,” said Valgerda.

“Rumors fucking confirmed,” Magnus blurted after turning off his phone. “The big wig is coming to hold my hand.”

“It could have been much worse if the wargame was cancelled all together,” Valgerda replied with a sad look in her eyes.

“I don’t know which one is worse: sitting here doing nothing or fighting a battle out there with Gunter’s strings around my neck.”

“It’s not like that. He’ll realize soon enough he can trust you completely.”

Magnus said. “I hate delays and hesitations.”

“Tomorrow morning, hopefully, we’ll be good to go. We can take a few hours to relax before that. I last checked on our recruits about half an hour ago, and I’ll make another round in a couple of hours. The barracks’ west wing is completely secured and perfectly isolated from the rest of the complex. I don’t anticipate any problems overnight.”

“Have you double-checked their surveillance bracelets?”

Valgerda nodded. “I have. They’re all fully functional. I installed the monitoring software on my laptop, and I’ve transferred all data from our office network. We know the exact location of each and every recruit at all times.”

Magnus stood up and walked to the window. He squinted, his eyes staring at the sun, barely visible over a high ridge at the end of the horizon. He guessed there were a few good hours of light before the fiery disk burned out for the day.

“I’ll take your advice and try to relax,” he said, still looking at the sun. “Tomorrow, we’ll have no time.”

Thule, Greenland

April 13, 1:40 p.m.

The angel had gray-blue eyes like Carrie, but black hair like Anna. The musical voice of this heavenly creature whispered sweet words into Justin’s ears. Her warm, soft hands began massaging his forehead, slowly and gently, in such a delightful way he felt his entire body responding with a soothing feeling of deep relaxation. Justin stretched his legs, enjoying the coziness of the fresh sheets, the warm blanket, and the overall comfort of his soft bed. His pillow felt much smoother than the ice where he recalled resting his head the last time he fell asleep.

The ice! The ice floe!

As he began remembering the ice floe, Justin’s memory started the unpleasant and irreversible vortex. The angel’s face became blurry, the pampering stopped, and the sweet voice disappeared. The image faded quickly, its pieces falling as if from a jigsaw puzzle. When he opened his eyes, all he could see was a white wall. His entire body felt a constant chilling pain.

“Welcome back, Mr. Hall.”

There’s nothing angelic in his voice. Oh, what a dream. Justin sighed. Then, he smiled. At least they brought me out of the freezing cold. But where did they take me? Who are they?

“I see this is some kind of a hospital and you’re a nurse,” Justin spoke softly to the young man in scrubs.

He was lying on a bed, in an emergency room, connected by a wire to a cardiac monitor. A couple of gel pads were placed on his left arm. Intravenous lines were attached to his hands. Two metallic shelves, stashed with a variety of medical boxes and bottles, were lined up along the other wall. “Where is this place?” Justin asked.

Before the nurse could answer, he glanced beyond the glass door and noticed a Stars and Stripes flag on a mast in the hall. “That’s the American flag. Are we… is this the United States?”

“Technically speaking.” The nurse replied. “We’re in a territory under the jurisdiction of the US. The US military, to be exact.”

“The military? And where is this territory?”

“We’re at the air base in Thule, Greenland,” the nurse replied. “How are you feeling?”

“OK. I feel like I have a hangover. My entire body aches, especially the joints.”

The nurse nodded. “That’s normal. You’re recovering from frostbite. I’ll let your regain your strength. I’ll be back in an hour or so.” The nurse headed for the door.

“Wait a second. How did I get here? Where are Carrie and Anna?”

“That’s the rest of your crew, I imagine.” The nurse turned around. “You were rescued on the coast of Ellesmere, somewhere south of Cape Combermere. Everyone is doing well. Relatively well, considering your body temperature had dropped to ninety-three degrees when our rescue team found you. We stabilized everyone in the medical chopper before the flight back.

“When you got here, our only option was to perform active and passive core rewarming procedures. I’ll save you the medical lingo, but all I’m saying is that you were almost dead, but now you’re no longer in danger.”

Justin lifted his arms to look at his hands, carefully not to detach the intravenous tubes. He disturbed the injection site on his left arm and winced in pain. The catheter’s sharp bevel pierced his skin.

“Stop. Don’t do that.” The nurse reached for Justin’s hand and rearranged the catheter and the tubing.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to. I was just checking for frostbite blisters.”

“There are none. Hypothermia seems to have left no physical scars on your body. The same is true for your friends. No hemorrhagic blisters, no dead tissue, no permanent damage to your skin or muscles. I guess you’re a lucky crew. A few days of rest and, if there are no complications, you should be on your way. However, not before talking to our commander. I don’t guarantee you’ll come out without any psychological scars after his interrogation.”

Chapter Thirteen

Thule, Greenland

April 13, 5:30 p.m.

Colonel Richard Clark was the commander of the 821st Air Base Group at Thule. The man in charge of the entire base, who had ordered the rescue mission, and saved the lives of Justin’s team. The commander’s receding hairline had spared a few bushy, white patches around his large ears. His crisp navy blue uniform, white shirt, and matching blue tie indicated his utmost attention to detail. When Justin had asked earlier, the nurse had described the man with a few words, concealing the fact that his short stature matched perfectly his short patience.

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well,” the commander said. His deep voice was warm, and his black eyes displayed a real concern about Justin’s condition. “The doctors have done a great job.”

“Thank you, Commander, for everything you’ve done.” Justin rearranged the pillows behind his back. He adjusted the angle of the bed frame, in order to sit up straight when talking to the commander.

“Can you tell me what was it you were doing in the middle of the ocean?”

Justin had anticipated the question, fearing the commander would be able to see through his well-planned lies. As a CIS operative, he could disclose neither his profession, nor the nature of his Arctic mission.

“Our boat capsized and became useless. So we scrambled to build a raft.” Justin worded his reply brief and kept it vague, tricks he had learned since the early days of the CIS training.

“Uh-huh,” the Commander said and squinted, as if checking the truthfulness of Justin’s words by studying his facial expression. “And you were sailing the High Arctic for what purpose?”

Justin swallowed before replying. “We were collecting data on a research project, Commander.”

“I see. And whom do you work for?”

“I’m with the CRI, that’s the Canadian Research Institute, out of Ottawa.” One of the front organizations the CIS used for cover operations.

“So, you’re scientists, you and your colleagues?”

“Yes, we’re geologists.”

He paused to think about Justin’s reply. “And you were gathering data on…”

“Our project is related to… hmm… the study of ice thickness and its melting rate over the last year.”

“Oh, I see.”

The commander’s eyes continued to search Justin’s face for any hints of pretense. Justin wondered why he was taking so long to call his bluff. The odds of Carrie and Anna concocting the same exact tall tale were slimmer than being struck by lightning in a submarine.

“I don’t believe I asked you for your name.” The commander began pacing at the end of Justin’s bed.

I hope he’s not starting the interrogation from the beginning.

“My name is Justin Hall.”

“What was the purpose of your mission to Ellesmere Island?”

Justin blinked and did a double take. That’s exactly where he’s going, back to the beginning.

“I told you, Commander, we were gathering information on our research project on—”

“Geological ice thickness. I heard you lie to me once,” the commander interrupted him. He leaning over Justin’s bed, drawing closer to his face. He was so close Justin noticed a thick blood vein pulsating on the commander’s right temple.

Justin flinched. In a flash, he was back in his Libyan prison cell, the interrogator’s hands clamped around his throat.

The commander’s voice erupting in a stern roar brought Justin back to reality. “Here, I’m measuring the thickness of your bullshit.”

“Huh, what?” Justin spread his hands, his face feigning utter confusion. “I don’t understand, sir.”