Beneath the Dark Ice (7 page)

“Your gear is a high-tech military incursion suit being used for the first time outside of a combat environment. They have been modified for cave use and are made up of two thin layers. The first is neoprene with bonded Kevlar threading. It will be waterproof, slippery, for any tight crawls, and tough as hell. It is the closest thing I’ve seen to flexible body armour. The second layer is for warmth and comfort and has internal battery-powered thermals. It is effectively a survival suit within flexible steel. The gloves and fitted boots also have hardened finger and toe tips and roughened grip pads. Frankly, I’m never giving mine back.”

Monica curled her gloved hand into a fist, watching it as a muscle bulged in her upper arm. She smiled at the suit’s flexibility and continued with her lesson.

“You will each have a modified helmet that is moulded to your head shape. Remember those security photos we had taken? Well, they captured more than just your smile. This head gear is made of a polypressed ceramic; it’s harder than steel but without the weight. Front lamp is a crystal globe behind shatterproof glass. Please don’t look someone in the face when you have this on as you will blind them for up to a minute afterwards. There is a box in front of each of you that contains an extra torch, dried food and water, a knife, cord, first-aid kit, space blanket
and small whistle. All items are compressed or slim fit and will correspond to a pouch on the belt or elasticised pocket of your suit.”

Matt Kerns raised his hand. “Question.”

“Let’s hear it,” said Monica.

“Will we be getting some of those?” He pointed at the extra gear that was slung on or about the bodies of Alex’s soldiers. This caused all attention to be focused on the military personnel who had been standing slightly back from the gathered team.

Each of the soldiers had what looked like two handguns, one on each hip and more deadly-looking blades than you would have thought necessary for a quick drop in and climb out “fun” expedition.

The look on the soldiers’ impassive faces radiated “don’t even ask,” so Monica turned back to Matt. “You were lucky to even get a penknife, Dr. Kerns,” she said, and continued with her briefing. “We have to stick together. No wandering off. No jumping or running. In darkness, depth perception is always skewed. When crawling through tight spaces, keep your arms in front of you, not at your sides. Destroy nothing, take nothing away, and leave nothing behind. I’d normally tell my team not to bother the wildlife, but I doubt that will be a problem on this trip.” Monica paused again, but still didn’t get any signs of confusion. Good.

“I’ll be circulating over the next fifteen minutes, checking your gear and answering any questions. One last important item, if you need to use the washroom, now’s the time. These suits are designed to collect your waste—you will definitely not be leaving that behind in the caves.”

Aimee couldn’t keep her curiosity in check any longer. She had to draw some more information out of the military team.

“There is one thing—if this is a simple science and
rescue mission why do we need six Special Forces jarheads bristling with weapons riding with us on a trip to an uninhabited continent? No offence, Captain.”

“None taken, we’ve been called worse. Dr. Weir, my ‘jarheads’ are hand-picked members of the Hotzone All-forces Warfare Commandos—or HAWCs for short.”

Oh good grief, of course. The Major’s “hawks,” thought Aimee.

Alex continued. “People, it is our simple task and pleasure to provide the security for this little trip, and perhaps do some of the heavy lifting for you. The security team members on this trip are, to begin with, First Lieutenant John Johnson, my second in command. If I am unavailable at any time, all questions and operations should be directed through him.”

Aimee’s eyes left Alex to look at the man who he had just nodded to. At about forty, First Lieutenant Johnson looked to be the oldest member of the HAWC squad. A heavily creased forehead and a black crew cut with a touch of iron at the temples. His heavy-lidded eyes couldn’t hide the formidable intelligence behind them and his bull-like neck suggested a lot of power to back it up.

Next to be introduced was Second Lieutenant Oscar Benson, a tall and shaven-headed black man who continued to check his equipment. Aimee saw that two of the fingers on his left hand were missing; the little finger was totally gone and the next in line ended at the first knuckle. Clearly, he hadn’t lost those fingers in a pushbike accident. Mike and Frank “Tank” Lennox were introduced together. They could have been twins; both had Nordic features and white flat-top crew cuts, but where Mike was of average height, Tank was a giant, towering a good head height above everyone in the group. He looked like he was threatening to burst out of his caving suit and perhaps even turn green at the same time.

The last man introduced was Second Lieutenant Fuji Takeda. Although his almond-shaped black eyes were impenetrable, he was the only member of the military group to acknowledge the gathered party by giving them a small forward bow by way of greeting. As his head dipped forward slightly, they could see that he was the only HAWC to have an extra piece of equipment. Strapped to his back in a coal black scabbard was the shortened form of a Japanese
katana
, or samurai sword.

Finally, Alex nodded to the last couple of people in his team and gave a small salute. They returned the gesture. “For those who haven’t had a chance to meet with them yet, I’d like you to get to know Corporals Margaret Anderson and Bruno Zegarelli. They will be providing medical assistance to any survivors that may be found.”

Margaret Anderson had a broad, shiny face that broke into an open smile. She nodded to everyone in Aimee’s group. Corporal Zegarelli mouthed
hello
and pulled at the back of his rubberised incursion suit; the man looked compacted in the tight clothing and Aimee guessed a few too many military meals had contributed to his discomfort.

Aimee couldn’t help looking from Zegarelli’s stuffed figure back to Alex Hunter’s physique for comparison, and as she worked her way up to his face she saw a pair of grey-green eyes staring back at her with just a hint of amusement. His face became serious again as he continued.

“Now, in answer to your question, Dr. Weir, seven days ago a light plane crashed into the ice; we do not believe there are any survivors. Following that, just four days ago, twenty-eight men and women comprising a small security detail, two medivac teams and six scientists disappeared at the same site. Our satellites have not picked up any surface activity, however, we cannot see into the hole. We believe they may have either been trapped by a rock fall or
succumbed to gases; Dr. Silex has confirmed that toxic vapours can form near surface oil deposits. We will all be equipped with breathing apparatus in the event those gases have not yet dissipated. However, we must also be prepared for the possibility that they were ambushed by a group of non-friendlies. Be advised this continent has no police force and we know it is used as a base for illegal whalers, driftnet fishermen, toxic waste dumpers and a dozen other illegal activities. We’re ju—”

“We’ll remain safe as long as we stick together, Aimee, and everyone follows instructions. There’s no need to be afraid. I’ll ensure that the captain and his men perform their security details, and we’ll all be home before you know it, right, Captain?” Silex had walked over to take a position in front of the HAWCs, keeping his back to them.

Alex let the silence hang in the air until Silex returned to his position. He ignored the lead scientist and simply picked up where he had left off. “We’re not expecting any trouble, just being cautious. We are only here to make sure no one bothers you while you’re all doing your jobs. Maximum twenty-four hours on the ice and then we’re heading home.”

Alex held Aimee’s eyes with his own. After a while she exhaled and gave him a single small nod.

“Questions?” Thirty seconds passed before Matt Kerns finally raised his hand. “Go on, Dr. Kerns.”

Matt smiled goofily. “I’d like to use the bathroom now.” To which Monica leaned across and whispered to him, “Oh boy, look at that face. He so wants to shoot you right now.”

Alex raised his voice once again. “We now have twelve minutes to boarding, people. In fifteen we will be in the air.” He turned his back on the group and rejoined his men.

Aimee smiled as she watched him walk away. Hmm, looks like Silex isn’t going to get everything his own way. Good, she thought.

Alex had said they weren’t expecting any trouble, but he wasn’t being totally accurate with the facts. The military had sent good men last time; you just didn’t make Green Berets disappear without a lot of heat, noise and enemy bodies left behind. Certainly not a task that could have been achieved by fishermen or waste dumpers. If they had succumbed to gases then it was a retrieval mission; if not he and his HAWCs were prepared to meet any opposing force head on. Though his initial brief was to support the scientific mission, Hammerson had told him that he was to assume total command in the event he encountered any form of aggression. He had unilateral authority to engage any enemy.

Now that Alex had a chance to meet and hear from the individual team members he was relieved to find that for the most part they seemed both physically and intellectually capable of the short but arduous mission. The two scientists stood out, but for different reasons. The tall woman, Aimee, intrigued him. He knew from his briefing notes that she was concerned for her lost colleague, and that explained her impatience, but he could also sense a sharp intellect and a degree of impulsiveness and volatility that probably got her into a few arguments. He’d stay close to her; there was strength in her. He couldn’t tell yet how she’d react if they found her colleague’s body.

Alex was glad it was going to be a short trip as his real concern was for the lead scientist, Dr. Adrian Silex. He felt the man would suffer from some authority confusion if they were there any longer than twenty-four hours, and though Alex would tolerate him and follow his instructions as long as they coincided with his own brief, his
men would not. HAWCs would obey the senior HAWC. If anything happened to Alex, then Johnson would lead. His men would ignore any orders from Dr. Silex and he hoped the scientist was wise enough to understand the limits of his jurisdiction and not to push his perceived command. With Alex’s men—if they just ignored him, then he reckoned the scientist got off lightly.

They sped through the half light of the morning in a swift military SeaHawk-S helicopter. It could take a dozen people and an additional 9,000 pounds of equipment, but as they had little more than slim backpacks for the short trip, they had squeezed the maximum bodies in, and by the look of it, a lot of extra fuel. There were twelve of them: the six HAWCs, Aimee, Silex, Matt, Monica and the two medical personnel.

It was becoming apparent to Aimee that Tom’s trip was a larger search and rescue mission with a scientist and a small security detail, whereas this seemed more a strike force with a science and medical appendage. Even the helicopter they rode in looked aggressive. Oscar Benson had delighted in describing the craft’s ordnance to her. It was armed to the teeth with a full armament of torpedoes, AGM-114 Hellfire missiles, an M-60 machine gun, an M-240 machine gun, a GAU-16 machine gun and a GAU-17 minigun for good measure. The speed they were experiencing was delivered by two turbo shaft engines, each providing over 1,600 horsepower that gave the sleek beast a speed of nearly 200 miles per hour. Benson had smiled when he finished his description and said, “It can get in quick, deal death and be out before you even hear it approaching.” Shit, the lethal team, the armaments; Aimee suspected that the military thought that a little more than
built-up gases had knocked the previous team out of action. My ass, they were not expecting any trouble, she thought.

The first leg to Macquarie Island, though the shortest, seemed to take forever. When the door of the helicopter finally slid back, a desolate granite landscape was revealed with a freezing wind that moaned its loneliness to a few wet-eyed seals lying at the grey water’s edge. They were meant to stretch their legs, but the cold made the very marrow in Aimee’s bones ache and she just pulled her parka hood further down over her face. Mercifully, the HAWCs managed to refuel in only thirty minutes and they shot up once again to complete their trip. No one spoke this time and most chose to simply doze or stare introspectively at their shoes. Even the HAWCs, now wrapped in their white snow coveralls, looked like hibernating polar bears, conserving their energy for the tasks ahead.

In Dante Alighieri’s vision of hell, the lowest circle of Hades appeared as a frozen lake that leached all warmth from the human body and spirit. His allegorical imagery of perpetual frozenness was thought by some to be a metaphor for distance from the grace of God’s warmth.

Aimee was reminded of those passages from Dante’s work as she looked at the flat stretches of white terrain covered by rolling, wind-driven waves of frozen snow and ice. The cold stung her nose and made her eyes water; even her teeth hurt. Before he left, Tom had told her it was the coldest place on earth, with vicious winds called katabatics that could reach 200 miles per hour and freeze-blacken the skin in seconds. Far from God’s warmth, Aimee thought again, and took a shuddering breath that seared the back of her throat.

They huddled just inside the doors of the helicopter as the HAWCs quickly unloaded the equipment. Apart from
the soldiers, no one was desperately keen to jump out into a hostile environment that stung any exposed areas of the face and made the breath leave your body in white plumes like a flock of small ghosts.