Arctic Wargame - Страница 24

“I took the same crap from your associates. They fed me the same lies about your boat crashing or sinking or capsizing, while three helpless geologists or meteorologists were working their asses off collecting data on ice thickness or weather patterns, depending on which one I chose to believe.”

Justin shrugged in silence. He decided to make a last-ditch effort to cover up the truth. “We struck a piece of drift ice and that’s why our boat—”

The commander cut him short. “Enough with this crap! Your story doesn’t add up. It doesn’t explain the fact that your clothes were dry when my men found you, and why there were no IDs on any of your crew members. No radios, no PLBs, no satphones, nothing. It looks like someone robbed you and left you to die.”

Justin took a deep breath before opening his mouth, but the commander held up his right hand as he stood tall again. “I’m not finished. I don’t know many geologists or meteo-whatever-logists who from scrap can build a fully functional raft, manage to keep it afloat in ice-infested waters, at seventy-seven degrees North latitude, and guide their team to safety until rescue arrives. I don’t know about in Canada, but, back home, we have a name for such folks. We call them ‘special agents.’”

Justin tried to voice his objection, but the commander shook his head. He asked, “Are you Canadian, Justin?”

“Yes, and let me explain—”

“Are you a Canadian secret agent?”

“No, I’m not a secret agent.”

“Don’t lie to me!”

Justin drew in a quick breath. “Sir, if what you’re saying is true,” he said quietly, “about the odds of simple geologists surviving an Arctic shipwreck then you know I can’t admit anything to people without a security clearance.”

A tense silence hung in the small room. For a moment, Justin found it hard to breathe, as if all oxygen had been pumped out of his lungs. A nurse knocked on the glass door and made her way in, dragging a meal delivery cart. She sensed the tension and looked at the commander for instructions.

“Leave!” he ordered her with a dismissive glare.

The nurse pushed away her cart.

The commander said after waiting until the nurse slid back the glass door, “you can’t tell me who you are or what you were doing freezing to death. Can you give me anything about your situation?”

The moment of truth, but not of the entire truth.

“We’re in grave danger, Commander.” He chose his words carefully and pronounced them in a friendly tone. “And we desperately need your immediate help.”

The commander’s thick eyebrows arched back. He asked, “Who is we? What grave danger? Can you be more specific?”

“Canada… and the Unites States. The immediate threat comes from Danish troops—”

“Danish? Seriously?” the commander burst out in a good-spirited laughter.

“Yes, Commander, I’m not joking. I’m talking about Danish troops. We’ve always waved them off as a little more than a political pain in the butt. But they have the capacity of launching a military attack against Canada, and they’ve already started their attack.”

Seriousness returned to the Commander’s face. “Do you have any evidence to back up your allegations?” he asked. “Are you aware that my air base is on Danish soil, and three Danish senior officials are a crucial part of my staff? I can’t allow you to drag their good reputation through the mud.”

“That’s not at all my intention, sir. With all due respect, I don’t think those officers would know anything about these plans.”

“Lieutenant Colonel Eichmann with the Royal Danish Air Force is not a simple officer.”

“It doesn’t matter, Commander. I believe the Danish operation is top secret. Very few people would know about it.”

The other man folded his arms across his chest. “Let me ask you again, Justin, what is your evidence?”

“The raft. We built the raft out of logs found in the debris of a Danish depot. The Siriuspatruljen, which store supplies and—”

“I’ve met a few of the Siriuspatruljen brave men, and I know about their excellent job. What were they doing on Ellesmere Island, if that’s what you’re insinuating?”

“We found a military radio and other rubble, which assert that Danish troops have, at the very least, violated the Canadian sovereignty, by setting foot in our land without authorization.”

“Where is this alleged radio? Or did you lose it when your boat tipped over?”

Justin sighed and bit his tongue. He could not tell the commander how Alisha had backstabbed them. It would raise more questions and doubts on the commander’s already skeptical mind. “I don’t have the radio any longer, Commander.”

“So, let me clarify this: All you have is a far-fetched story about a disappearing military radio, on which you base a mountain of crazy accusations. You know what I have? I have three uninvited and unwanted guests, who require extensive and expensive medical attention, lengthy reports and explanations to my superiors and to the Canadian authorities about my search and rescue, and this nonsense about an invasion from Denmark, of all places.”

Justin decided to reveal another piece of information, in an attempt to persuade the commander. “We’ve found a lot of weapons. Danish machine guns, Let Støttevåbens. They’re planning an attack against Canada. I’m absolutely sure about this.”

“Now the plot is getting thicker. Let me guess the answer to my own question, you don’t have any of these guns, do you?”

Justin heaved a sigh of defeat. “They… hmm… I know where they are.”

“Did you find these machine guns in the depot?”

“No, but witnesses have confirmed the origin of the weapons, which is Denmark, the Royal Danish Army.”

“Are these witnesses available for questioning, and will they corroborate your story?”

“No,” Justin said, shaking his head. “I’m afraid they’re not.”

“No? Why not? Have you lost them too?” The scorn was very clear in the commander’s voice.

“The witnesses are gone. They’re dead.”

“You know, Justin, you would make a great storyteller. You’re just making up this entire story to distract me from whatever you and your associates were cooking up in Ellesmere, aren’t you?”

“No, no, of course not. You’ve got to believe me. This is real. It’s all true. The Danish are not stupid. They wouldn’t start an all-out war. Difficult to keep that a secret. The probability of being detected by the Canadians or the Americans is reduced to a minimum if the Danish Army is planning a single and isolated attack.”

“So, why are we bothered if this is only one man, albeit a strong man?”

The scorn burned him, but Justin brushed it away. “I’m not saying we’re facing a one-man team, but the size of the Danish attack may be considerably smaller than we anticipate. Something that will not draw attention to itself and will not look like a movement of troops ready for war. Something that looks legit. Canada’s Arctic territory is sparsely populated, and these areas are very isolated and very remote. A few hundred men, properly trained and equipped, can take over strategic positions in the blink of an eye.”

The commander shook his head. “That’s none of my concern, Justin. I’ve already done more than enough.” He began walking toward the door.

“You’re involved in this matter now, and you know as much as I do,” Justin said. “I need your help with this.”

“The doctor tells me you should be healthy enough to fly in a couple of days. My staff will make arrangements to take you and your associates south, first to Søndre Strømfjord, and, from there, to Ottawa. Your government or agency, whatever it is, can take over this crazy situation of yours.”

“Commander, you’re going to leave and do nothing with the information I gave you?”

The commander turned around. He stepped closer to Justin’s bed, raised his right hand, and pointed it at Justin’s face. A moment later, he shrugged and produced a big smile. “You know what?” he said with a grin. “You almost pulled me back into this useless argument. I’ve already lost a lot of precious time. Good bye, Justin.”

“In that case, I need to make a few phone calls. And I need to talk to Carrie and Anna.”

“What do you think this is, the Sheraton?” the commander replied without bothering to look back. Instead, he tapped on the glass door. A tall man in a military uniform appeared and stood at attention. “Sergeant Brown, make sure this patient doesn’t go anywhere without an escort.”

“Yes, sir. I will, sir.”

The man’s strong voice, his broad frame, and vigilant eyes were clear hints to Justin about his chances of sliding through the glass door undetected.

* * *

Five minutes later, the same nurse the commander had thrown out of Justin’s room wheeled in the meal cart.

“You hungry?” she asked.

Justin nodded and the nurse, whose lab coat nametag read “Moore”, gave him his dinner. Grilled chicken parmesan, vegetable broth, and canned nectarines. Everything was served in white plastic tableware. A set of utensils — spoon, fork and knife — also white plastic, were wrapped in a red, white and blue napkin.

Justin closed his eyes and frowned, as he chewed on the first bite of the cold chicken breast. Great. Once I’m finished with the soup, I can use the spoon to dig myself a tunnel out of this place.