The Citadel (27 page)

CHAPTER 15
Ruppert Coast, Antarctica

Min had been tempted to pile his survivors on board the sled and ride the glacier down, but wisdom had prevailed, and they lashed themselves as a human brake to the rear of the sled, keeping the bomb from getting away from them only with great difficulty.
They'd gotten off the glacier less than ten minutes ago, and now they were on top of the ocean, making their way across the ice. In most places it was so thick they couldn't tell the difference between it and the polar cap they'd been on, but in other places the ice thinned out and, with the snow scraped off by the wind, the ocean could be seen below. It was these areas that Min had his men skirt around. He estimated another four to six hours until they arrived at the freighter, which was now hidden by the surface ice.

Pentagon, Alexandria, Virginia

General Morris listened to the intercepted message as he tried to shake the cobwebs of sleep out of his brain. "That language sounds familiar," he remarked as the short exchange played out.
"It's Han Gul—Korean," Hodges informed him.
Morris felt a chill hand caress his spine. "Where did the Hawkeye say this originated from?"
Hodges tapped the map. "Here along the coast due north of the Citadel. It was someone on the shore communicating with a ship the Hawkeye has located as fixed in the ice pack right here, eight miles off the coast."
"Do you have a translation of the message?" Morris asked.
"Yes, sir." Hodges pressed a button on a tape player, and an unemotional voice spoke in English:
Station One: "Tiger, this is Wolf. Over."
Station One: "Tiger, this is Wolf. Over."
Station Two: "Wolf, this is Tiger. Over."
Station One: "This is Wolf. We are within sight. Over."
Station Two: "Roger. Do you have the package? Over."
Station One: "Yes. Over."
Station Two: "Roger. We will wait for you. Out."
"Oh, sweet Jesus," Morris muttered to himself. Then he spoke up: "Do you have an ID on the ship?"
"No, sir. The E-2 is over two hundred miles away and at its fuel limit range. They just have a radar image. They're launching another E-2 right now to replace it and it will be able to get in a bit closer."
Morris turned to the duty officer. "Get the SecDef and General Kolstov here ASAP."
He looked at the situation map. The
Kitty Hawk
was still 1,100 miles from the Citadel, over 1,000 from the freighter. "What's the range on your attack aircraft from the carrier?" he asked the naval duty officer. "More specifically, do you have anything you can put on station over that ship?"
The naval officer didn't even have to consult his notes. "Not yet, sir."
"When, then?"
"We'll be able to launch some Tomcats in about three hours. They won't have much time on station—less than twenty minutes—and they'll have to carry a minimum armament load."
Morris stared at the situation map, the pieces falling in place even though he wasn't sure what they all meant. The North Koreans had one bomb and were still making for the ship. Once they made it on board, it was going to be a very ticklish situation. But it definitely fit in with the alerts they were hearing from the peninsula. Morris wondered what the North Koreans were going to do with one nuclear weapon, but he knew there were a variety of answers, none of them good.
If not for the alert from Area 51, the whole thing might have been overlooked, even the explosion, as no one would have initially thought of a nuclear weapon. The reaction here would have definitely been quite a bit slower. Damn, the sons of bitches almost got away with it, he thought. They still might, he reminded himself.
"How about the Osprey with the Special Forces men?" he asked.
"Just lifted from McMurdo. A little less than three hours out."
"Divert them directly to the coast."
"Yes, sir."
Morris looked up as Kolstov strode in. He idly wondered how the Soviet general managed to look so unruffled after being dragged out of his bunk down the hallway. The uniform was immaculate, and Kolstov's bald head gleamed under the overhead lights.
"I understand you have something new?" His English was perfect also.
"Yes." Morris quickly filled him in on the data picked up by the Hawkeye and then played the translation tape. He concluded with his best estimate of the situation. "I think this has something to do with the mobilization intelligence we are picking up in North Korea."
Kolstov raised an eyebrow. "You did not inform me of the situation in Korea."
"I didn't think it was applicable."
Kolstov nodded. "Yes. Hmm. Well, I was aware of the situation there from my own sources." Morris knew he meant the coded radio messages that poured in and out of the CIS Embassy. He had no doubt that the Russians kept a very close eye on the North Koreans.
"What are you going to do?" Kolstov asked.
"From the message, it appears that the ship is waiting for a party on foot that has one of the bombs. We're going to have to stop it."
"What if the party makes it on board the ship before you can stop it?" Kolstov was looking over Morris's shoulder at the situation board and could easily see that there were no U.S. forces in the immediate vicinity of the ship.
"Then we stop the ship," Morris coldly replied.
"Ah, my American friend. You have no right to stop that ship in international seas."
Morris bristled. He knew they never should have allowed the goddamn Russians in on this. This guy was going to give him bullshit arguments about freedom of navigation when a nuclear weapon was involved. "My job is to get that bomb back."
Kolstov appeared not to have heard. "In fact, my friend, you are not even certain that the package referred to in the message is your lost bomb. What if you attempt to board that ship and you are wrong?"
Morris bit his words off. "They've already detonated one bomb. That proves they are capable of doing it. I have no doubt they will not stop at detonating the second. I will not allow that ship anywhere near a potential target. I am not sure how this is tied in to what is presently happening in North Korea right now, but I am sure there is a connection.
"We have the potential here for all-out war on the Korean peninsula, and I believe your government is in agreement with mine that we don't want that. I am willing to take the chance that I am wrong to stop that ship."
"Ah," Kolstov said. "But what if your boarding that ship constitutes an act of war in the eyes of the North Koreans? What if they are drawing you into a trap?"
That hadn't occurred to Morris. This whole thing was so vague he wasn't sure which end was up. "Maybe," he conceded. "But we're going to make sure."
Kolstov held up a hand, palm out. "My friend, perhaps in the interest of world peace, I might be able to help you with your little problem."
Morris would rather have crawled naked over broken glass for a mile. But he forced a smile and said, "What do you have in mind, my friend?"

Ruppert Coast, Antarctica

"How are you feeling?" Vaughn asked as they all collapsed to their knees on the crest of the ridge.
"Tired," Tai replied.
"Ditto," Burke remarked.
"Are either of you sweating?"
"No."
"No."
"Good. Drink half your canteen. I'll melt some more water in a minute." Vaughn pulled his own canteen out of the flap pocket of his parka—the only place it could be carried and not freeze—and took a deep drink of the chilly water.
He peered down to the ocean, scanning in sections. "Look—out there!"
The ship lay like a black bug miles out in the ice pack.
"Where are the ones on foot? Have they reached it yet?" Tai asked.
"It doesn't appear to be moving, and I don't think they could make it that far this quickly." Vaughn brought his gaze in closer. After a minute he spotted them. "There. See that large square iceberg? To the left and in."
"They're halfway out there." Tai sounded resigned. "We'll never catch them."
The walk up the ridge had just about wiped out Vaughn. A quarter of the way up, seeing Tai occasionally stumbling with exhaustion, he'd taken her pack and strapped it on top of his own. For a little while she'd done all right, but he could tell she was at the limit of her resources.
"You stay here. I'll go after them alone." Vaughn knew if he didn't catch them before they got on the ship, the chase was in vain.
Tai shook her head. "I'll go with you. If it's a choice between being tired and being cold, I choose tired. As long as I keep moving I'll be all right."
"I'm not staying here alone," was Burke's only comment.
Vaughn was too numb to argue. He knew it was up to them to catch the Koreans or else they'd get away. He took the stove out and got it started. He emptied his canteen in the metal cup and placed it on top of the stove. Once the water was boiling, he scooped up ice and melted it, gradually filling his, Tai, and Burke's canteens as they rested.
"Are you ready?" he asked as he put the stove away.
Tai stood. "Do you think we can catch them?"
In reply, Vaughn took two snap links and slipped them through small loops at the end of his twelve-foot length of rope. He reached under Tai's parka and hooked one end to her belt. He hooked the other to Burke's and then himself to the center.
"What's this for?" Tai asked.
Vaughn pointed to the left, where the deceptively smooth surface of the glacier glistened a quarter mile away. "We're going to make up some time going down."

Ruppert Coast, Antarctica

"Ready?"
Tai looked up at Vaughn and weakly nodded. Burke had a death grip around her and didn't say anything. They were both wrapped in a nylon poncho, lying on their back inside a sleeping bag, heads cushioned with their backpack. Vaughn's M-1 was on Tai's chest, her hands wrapped around it.
Vaughn began walking, the rope tightening around Tai's and Burke's waists, pulling them along on the ice. He accelerated to a jog, the slope helping increase their speed. Satisfied, he flopped down on his stomach, his Gore-Tex parka and pants sliding on the ice.
Linked together, the three tobogganed down the glacier, Vaughn trying to control speed and direction with the point of his entrenching tool. Tai had no doubt that they would be very black and blue if they survived this as they rattled over bumps in the ice.
They were three-quarters of the way down to the coast, Tai too numb to even feel anything anymore, when Vaughn broke through the ice into a crevasse. His yell gave Tai less than a second to react. She did the only thing she could, holding the M-1 up across her body as her feet slammed against the far side of the break. She started sliding down, the rope around her waist dragging her down, and desperately jammed the muzzle of the weapon into the ice. The poncho and sleeping bag fell off and disappeared into the depths. Tai came to a brief halt and then felt a tremendous jar as Vaughn reached the end of her rope and dangled below.
Suddenly there was no more weight on the rope. Tai was still, not believing she was alive. Her feet were pressed up against the far side ice wall, and the rifle, dug into the near side, kept her in a precarious balance in the mouth of the crevasse. Carefully, she looked down below. The crevasse widened and descended into a blue darkness as far as she could see. Vaughn was standing there, ten feet below on a narrow ledge of ice, looking up with wide eyes.
"Vaughn!" she cried out.
"Yeah. Are you all right?" The voice echoed off the walls.
"I can't move!" she replied.
"Hold still! I'm on a small ledge down here. Let me try to climb up. Burke?"
The reply from above echoed down. "Yeah?"
"Are you stable?" Vaughn asked.
"I got my feet dug in. I can hold, but I don't think I can get enough traction to pull the two of you up."
"All right, just hold on, then," Vaughn said.
Tai wasn't about to go anywhere. She could hear Vaughn working with his entrenching tool below her. The minutes passed, and she felt her feet shift on the ice, her heart going to her throat. How far would she fall if she slipped? she wondered. Would the fall kill her or would she lie down there broken but alive, the cold taking the final toll on the way to an icy grave, preserved forever here?
"Hang tough." She heard Vaughn's labored breathing, and out of the corner of her eye she could finally see him moving. He would reach up and dig out a hold in the ice with the shovel and haul himself up. It was a slow process, and she wasn't sure how long she could hold here, her numb hands wrapped around the rifle, all feeling in her feet already gone. She assumed her feet were still at the end of her legs. She knew they weren't moving only because she could feel her knees shivering inside her heavy pants.
Vaughn reached Tai's level, and she carefully turned her head to look at him. He gave her a forced smile. "Some ride, eh?"
He was now wedged like she was—his back and feet against the ice. She watched as he squirmed his way up until he could get over the lip. He disappeared over the forward side, then his head reappeared. "I'm anchored up here with Burke. Ready?"
Tai shook her head. "I can't feel my feet."
Vaughn puffed out a deep breath. "All right. We'll pull you up. When I yell, you pull your feet out. Okay?"
"Can you do it?"
"We'll do it." He was gone.
Tai anxiously waited.
"Ready?"
Tai briefly closed her eyes. "Yes."
"Let go."
Tai tucked her knees in and fell for an interminable split second, and then the rope tightened down on her waist, causing her to exhale sharply and stopping her. She scrabbled at the ice with her dead hands and feet, trying to help Vaughn and Burke as much as she could. Inch by inch she went up until she could slap an arm down on the surface. The pressure on the rope was maintained, and she continued up until she could get her waist over and roll onto the surface.
She lay there, savoring the sight of the open sky. Vaughn crawled up next to her and collapsed, throwing an arm over her and pulling her in tight. "You all right?" he asked.
"Yes," she whispered.
Vaughn leaned over her. "Do you want to go on?"
She got to her feet with great effort. "Yes."

Geneva

"We have the other eleven names," the Senior Assessor informed the High Counsel.
The names were projected on one of the large screens and on the High Counsel's own office screen. All eleven were either very high in the United States government or very rich men.
"They went international," the High Counsel noted as he read one of the names.
"Pablo Escovan," the Senior Assessor noted. "The head of the Mexican drug cartel. The richest man in Mexico."
"This is a mess," the High Counsel said. "Only three of those names are ours. Have you projected courses of action?"
"Yes, sir. With a sixty-four percent recommendation: wipe out Majestic-12."
The High Counsel sighed. "CARVE?" he asked, using an acronym they had developed.
"Criticality," the Senior Assessor began, reciting from the first letter of the acronym. "These men are the members of the group that established the Citadel and kept it secret from us all these years. They have been pursuing their own course of action for over fifty years. If they are gone, Majestic-12 is gone.
"Accessibility. It will be difficult to attack the remaining eleven at the same time under normal circumstances. Some of them are the most heavily guarded people on the planet. However, these are not normal circumstances. Our sources report that at least four that we know of are either en route or already at Area 51. The other seven we don't know about, but we should assume they also will be there shortly. An emergency meeting.
"Recuperability. These are not men who share with underlings. And since they have managed to keep the existence of Majestic-12 from us for this long, we have to assume they have extensive cutouts in place. Thus, if we cut off the head, it is a very high probability there will be no one to take their places.
"Vulnerability. Area 51 is a hard site. Their meeting place is deep underground. However, it is a United States military base. We have access to resources. We can do it.
"Effect. Extensive. Economic turmoil. Political fallout in Washington. We have already alerted our public relations people to prepare for it. The presence of Escovan certainly helps. It will be costly but manageable."
The Senior Assessor fell silent.
"Action is authorized," the High Counsel finally said.