Arctic Wargame - Страница 32

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“Quick, let’s get them both somewhere warm,” Ned instructed the two men standing next to him.

Awakened by the noise, a large group of curious onlookers were observing the rescue mission.

“Our home,” said one of them, lifting Justin’s left arm.

The other man moved to the right side, dragging Justin’s almost unconscious body to their truck.

“OK,” Ned replied. “We’ll bring Tania.” He helped Anna carry the gasping woman to his Land Rover.

“What about Alisha?” Anna asked, as they laid Tania in the backseat.

“She’s… she’s dead,” Tania mumbled. “The crash…” She broke into a violent cough.

“Don’t talk.” Ned started the car and followed the truck. “Save your energy. You can tell us everything later. Once you’re better.”

Chapter Nineteen

Thule, Greenland

April 14, 01:00 a.m.

The commander fumbled with his wristwatch. He was awaiting the arrival of a captain who was visiting five of his men in the hospital. They were wounded during the shoot-out with the Canadians. He looked around the table, trying to read the thoughts of his colleagues. The superintendent of the air base was writing on a yellow notepad in front of him. The commander was unsure of his reaction. Before the commander could fix his eyes on the other two men sitting to his left, he heard quick footsteps coming from the hall.

“I apologize for my delay,” the captain said as he entered the conference room.

The commander gestured for the captain to take a seat. “How are the men doing?”

“They’ll all make it. No one is in danger of their lives.”

“Good, I’m glad to hear that. So, what do we have?”

“The Seahawk handled the storm without a scratch. The pilot, Ms. O’Connor, did a damn good job riding the blizzard,” replied one of the men at the table.

“Where did they land?”

“We lost our tracking signal when the Seahawk was about six miles east of Nanisivik, Canada.”

“They did four hundred miles in the blizzard?” the superintendent asked. “Who are these people?”

“The blizzard, like most Arctic storms, was localized mainly around our air base. The tail end of the storm stretched over Ellesmere Island,” explained the same man who had earlier expressed admiration of the Canadian pilot. “Still, it’s quite an amazing feat.”

“Which confirms my initial suspicions these Canadians are anything but geologists,” the commander said. “Special Forces? Rangers? Canadian Air Force?”

“Whoever they are, sir, we should dispatch immediately two rescue teams,” said the deputy commander in a terse voice. “Then, when we find them—”

“Wait a second,” the commander said, trying to calm him, “we need a plan for the rescue.”

“We’re here for this purpose, sir, to draft a plan,” the deputy commander replied. “If they made it through the snowstorm, so can our pilots. We know their coordinates, and we’ll find them. Then, we’ll engage these people and force them to release the hostage and return our helo.”

“There are so many issues with your suggestion,” one of the other men said. “First, the difficulties of a night flight in the blizzard. I’m not saying our troops are incompetent, but it’s just too great of a risk to order them into a doomed mission before they even take off from the tarmac.”

The deputy commander opened his mouth to begin his objections. The commander stopped him with a stern gaze.

“Second, it’s clear from the data that we know only the possible destination of the helo, not the exact coordinates of its landing. And that’s their position as of what, thirty minutes ago?”

“Fifty minutes ago,” said another man.

“Yes, thanks. They could be anywhere, and our teams will have trouble locating them. Third, the Canadians took a Seahawk, a helicopter this air base is not even supposed to have. And we’re planning to go after them with what, other Seahawks that shouldn’t be in Greenland’s airspace? Fourth, we’ll be sending our troops into Canada, our ally. Can you imagine the repercussions of such an action?”

The deputy commander shrugged. “Since when do we worry about ‘repercussions’ of our acts? We carry out missions like this on almost a daily basis all over the world. Somalia. Pakistan. Colombia. These renegades kidnapped one of our soldiers. That act should not go unpunished.”

“It will not go unpunished,” the commander spoke softly, setting an example of the tone he expected from his men. “As it was pointed out accurately, we will not jeopardize our relationship with a strong ally by wreaking havoc in the Arctic. We revert to the use of force as a last resort, by targeting a precise location. Canada is not like the countries you mentioned. Our first step will be to inform the Canadian government about this crisis and to seek to resolve it through diplomatic means.”

The deputy commander raised his metal-framed glasses to the bridge of his nose and scratched his fully shaved head. “Yes, sir,” he mumbled.

“Good. I’ll contact our Chief of Mission to Canada, and he will follow this matter further through diplomatic channels.”

“Is that… is that all we’re doing, sir?” asked one of the men in a faltering voice. He was Support Squadron Commander of the airbase. Sergeant Emily Moore and Sergeant Tom Brown were two of the people in his team.

“Of course not,” the commander replied. “Emily is my highest priority, and we’ll do everything we can to bring her home. I had a chance to interrogate the Canadians, when they were still recovering in the hospital. While I may have misjudged their abilities, they didn’t strike me as vicious criminals.”

“That’s an understatement, sir,” the same man replied. “Sergeant Brown’s skull is fractured. He was tied up and left naked on the emergency room floor.”

“It’s all because of that stupid radar signal that notified us about these people in the first place,” another man blurted out. “If those technicians would stop messing around with their toys, we wouldn’t even be here at this graveyard hour.”

“Whoa, whoa,” said another voice. “If it weren’t for my team, we would have three dead people in our conscience. Three dead people, which we could have saved. There was no way for anyone to know about this turn of events.”

“Oh, is that so? Well, my conscience is already burdened with a head split sergeant and a kidnapped sergeant, held as hostage who knows where.”

“Gentlemen,” the commander shouted, silencing their bickering. “There’s no gain in figuring out who’s to blame. Let’s focus on solutions, rather than accusations.”

Some of the men nodded in agreement.

“I was saying the Canadians seemed like decent folks,” the commander said. “I know Hall mugged Sergeant Brown, and I don’t condone his action. I’m simply accepting it as a fact, regrettable as such, yet still notable, since it tells us about his determination. It also testifies to his character. Hall is not into overkill, but precise, controlled use of physical force, in correct proportion with the needs of the situation.”

He looked around the room. “I’ll explain myself, since some of you seem lost. When the Canadians had a chance to fight back, their machine guns blasted tarmac chunks, not the flesh of our soldiers. I’m sure they’re not going to hurt Emily. They did not kid… take her for ransom or to pressure us into submission or negotiation. Hall was afraid we were going to pulverize the chopper. The bastard was right; I may have issued the order to shoot down the Seahawk, if it had nothing valuable on board.”

There were some nods around the table.

“Now, my question is: Why were they in such a hurry to go back? What was so important that couldn’t wait, not even three, four days, until their health improved, and we could escort them safely back to Canada?”

“They were trying to hide something,” one man guessed.

“Rushing to get rid of their tracks of whatever illegal scheme they were working on,” the deputy commander said.

“Hall claimed they had secured evidence confirming their suspicions about Danish soldiers attacking their Arctic territory.”

“What?” the superintendent asked.

“Really? That’s a clever one,” the deputy commander said in a mocking tone.

“Yes, a fascinating claim,” the commander said. “I dismissed it offhand as nonsense. But after their death-defying stunt, I’m not so sure. I want to check yesterday’s satellite monitoring records for anything out of ordinary, in terms of Danish aircraft or icebreakers heading toward Canada. Hall talked about some isolated maneuver Denmark may be carrying out. I remember seeing a memo a few weeks back, when they were planning a training exercise, but I don’t recall its details. At the time, it looked pretty harmless. Find me anything recent about the Danish preparations for this exercise. I also want the other Seahawks on standby for a rescue mission at a moment’s notice. Pilots and armaments should be ready, awaiting my orders.”

“Sir, hmmm…” the superintendent began, “those choppers, the Seahawks. We’ll have to anticipate a considerable backlash from the Danish government if news about their existence at our base appeared in the media.”

The commander thought about the superintendent’s words for a few moments. “I’m quite aware of our agreement with Denmark on the expansion of our base. I know it prohibits the presence of sophisticated and heavy armed fighter aircraft. But thank you for the reminder. Now, allow me to remind everyone around this table we’re the only people in possession of this secret. If the Danes start asking about our Seahawks and whether they’re in violation of our treaty with their government, I’ll start an investigation of the leak. I will not hesitate to court-martial anyone who leaks the information. Is this clear?”