The Ice Chasm (Harvey Bennet Thrillers Book 3) Page 5

  “This data is, according to our benefactor, something of great value to his organization and potentially harmful if in the wrong hands. And it goes without saying that he considers the current holder of this information the ‘wrong hands.’ Therefore, our mission once we land on the continent is to find these people, assess the situation to the best of our ability, and ensure any sensitive data or information found is gathered and returned to Mr. E.”

  Hendricks waited for questions for a moment, then continued. He turned slightly to his left and addressed Ben, Julie, Reggie, and Joshua.

  “You may have also noticed my team of soldiers sitting across from you. These men are exceptionally trained soldiers from different backgrounds, employed by Mr. E as further insurance of his assets. They are loyal to me, and will take orders from myself and, as soon as we land, Mr. Jefferson.”

  Joshua flicked his head up and toward Hendricks, but Hendricks held up a hand before Joshua could speak.

  “I know what you’re thinking, Mr. Jefferson, and while your expertise is beneficial, my men will perform best under trusted leadership. Because of your history with the organization we’re searching for, your authority will stand when it comes to overall mission parameters, but for specific engagement protocol —“

  “I’m just the figurehead, is what you’re saying,” Joshua said.

  Hendricks shook his head. “See, I want to get off on the right foot, Mr. Jefferson. I understand that Mr. E intended for you to be overseeing the entire mission, but there needs to be some amendments to that arrangement when it comes to —“

  Ben saw Joshua clenching and unclenching his fists. “That’s unacceptable, Hendricks,” Joshua said. “You and I both know that plan is doomed to failure. Let me run the mission, and stand down, or —“

  “Or what, Jefferson?” Hendricks lost his respectful tone and his voice dropped to a growl. He stretched upwards to an even taller height. He took a deep breath. “Listen, Jefferson,” he started. “You think that because your ass is barely dried off from your escapade in the swamp that you’ve got something on me. But you don’t. I’ve had guys working under me for longer than you’ve been alive. And if I remember correctly, your own men didn’t seem too keen on serving under you, did they?”

  Ben saw Joshua seething. He was beyond pissed himself, and wondered how Joshua could keep his cool so well.

  “So excuse me if I’m a little hesitant to put my undying trust in you, kid,” Hendricks said. “Now, I didn’t want to have to do this in front of the others, but you just wouldn’t drop it.” He shifted his cold, menacing eyes upward toward the opposite end of the bench. “Mrs. E, would you care to jump in?”

  Mrs. E looked from one man to the other, and Ben could feel the tension in the air continuing to ratchet up.

  “Joshua,” she said, her voice taking on the demeanor of a concerned parent. “I apologize for any confusion. My husband and I were aware of your… concern regarding the selection of personnel for this mission, but we didn’t want to lose you as a member of this team. We decided —“

  “You decided to lie to me? You thought I’d just sit here and take it? You can’t be serious.”

  “Joshua, there’s nothing we can do at this point. Hendricks is a fine leader, with years of experience, and your contribution to the team is still needed. As he said, you have a knowledge of the company that will be a major asset to us. Please understand that we respect your opinion, but we have already decided to allow Hendricks to control the movement of his own men.”

  Joshua shook his head, and Ben watched his face glow red. “This isn’t going to work, then,” he said. “I’m not —“

  Before he could finish the sentence, Ben felt the rumbling of the plane as it lurched forward on the runway. We’re taking off, he thought. He watched Joshua’s reaction. The man was seething, unmoving on the bench as the plane picked up speed.

  Hendricks had grasped a vinyl loop handle that hung down from the rafters and was swaying back and forth as the plane took off. Ben watched the man as the plane ride jolted them around in their seats, impressed at Hendricks’ ability to hold on.

  “While we’re taking off,” he yelled, “I might as well keep going.” He cast a downward glance at Joshua, who was now staring straight ahead as Hendricks spoke. “There are bags of equipment hanging over your heads and stacked against the mesh next to me,” he said. “Some of the equipment is for our survival and relative comfort — the clothing we’ll need, basic toiletry kits, and personal subzero survival kits. Each pack has a sidearm — unloaded — and enough ammunition to get you through an impressive firefight. We don’t expect much in the way of security, considering our destination, but we want to be prepared for additional search teams that might have been sent after the electrical flare was discovered.

  “My men and I are each carrying the same sidearm, but we are also bringing some heavier firepower. We’ll have some C4 to get us into anything we’re not supposed to get into and assault rifles to shoot our way out. Mr. Jefferson has been given a brief on Antarctic survival that he’ll be sharing with you all, but our expectation is that most of the mission will take place inside whatever station we find down there.”

  He paused, again waiting for questions, but there were none. Satisfied, he continued. “In addition to the necessary survival equipment, we have packed a few bags of camera equipment at Mr. E’s request. Travel to Antarctica is not something civilians are able to do, especially at this time of year and via military aircraft. For that reason, we are following the protocol of the United States Antarctic Program’s Operation Deep Freeze, which runs out of New Zealand to McMurdo. You are all journalists, working on a publicity program meant to increase the interest in Antarctic research.

  “I expect no trouble once we land in McMurdo, and Mr. E has assured me that our guide when we reach the base won’t ask questions, but if we encounter any probing questions, just whip out a camera and start taking pictures.”

  “What do we tell them?” Julie asked.

  Hendricks shrugged. “I don’t know. Say journalistic things, and comment on the scenery. They know you’re not scientists, so don’t try and act like one. We’re only hitting at the station for a minute before we hop into a transport and start looking around the area.”

  Ben listened to the plan, taking it all in. The plane had lifted off and was now ascending to its cruising altitude, and thinking about something else helped keep his mind off the fact that they were breaking the laws of physics by floating upward into the air while riding inside of a fuel-filled metal tube.

  Hendricks explained a few more logistical components, then asked for questions and told Joshua to begin his survival briefing. Joshua seemed aloof, but focused enough to get through the twenty-minute overview he had prepared during his last night in Colorado, then passed around a packet of stapled pages that further clarified his points. Ben flipped through it, finding diagrams explaining how to work the equipment he’d find in the packs, basic Antarctic facts, and a map of their projected search area.

  It was a lot to memorize, but Ben hoped he wouldn’t need much of it. His desire was to get in, find Draconis Industries and discover what they were doing in Antarctica, and get out. They weren’t supposed to spend any time out in the elements, nor were they supposed to have any trouble with security on the continent. He hoped things would go their way, but he knew there was a big difference between hoping and reality.

  Hendricks stood up once again after the plane had reached its target altitude to deliver final instructions: sleep. They had some spare hours ahead, and they would likely benefit from some shuteye. Ben listened, finally hearing instructions he could fully agree with. He pressed his body deeper into the hard seat, finding little comfort in the sloped wall of the plane, and he felt Julie nuzzle against his shoulder.

  He forced himself to breathe, focusing on each breath as it came into and left his body. For a moment, sitting against a hard cargo plane’s side flying through the air thousand
s of feet above the earth, feeling Julie dozing off next to him, he felt peace.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Ben

  BEN HAD ASSUMED THE FIRST thing he’d notice when they got to Antarctica would be the cold, but it wasn’t. Instead, the C-130’s back ramp opened and let them off, and it was the unbelievable amount of space outside that took his breath away. Alaska was big, but Ben had always felt like it shrunk after you lived there for some time. The mountains, trees, and geography of the place all pressed together and made the state feel like it was much smaller. As he liked to tell anyone who asked, Alaska was huge, but you could only experience it one small piece of it at a time.

  Antarctica, however, was so big it scared him.

  The light fell into the plane and consumed every corner of the space, including Ben’s eyes. The light blinded him momentarily, but after a minute of staring he realized they had already adjusted, and he was looking at an endless expanse of white.

  Snow covered everything in sight, and the ‘everything’ in this case was miles of flat terrain. He couldn’t see where the white of the snow ended and the white of the sky began, and even as they all unstrapped themselves, stood, and started walking toward the ramp, the white canvas grew.

  “It’s —“ Julie started. “I can’t…”

  Ben didn’t know what to say either, so he said nothing. They both walked, hand-in-hand, down the ramp and out onto the ground. Hendricks had woken them up and made them dress in the parkas, boots, and pants included in their packs, and as soon as Ben felt the air outside the plane he was glad he had.

  The wind plowed into his face with the force of a Mack truck, and he nearly fell backwards as the gust powered through the open plane.

  “Hold on to something!” Hendricks shouted, obviously too late to be helpful. Ben saw Julie stumble in front of him, falling backwards, and he reached forward and held her up until the wind subsided.

  Ben’s parka felt immediately useless against the biting cold of the -30 degree temperature, and he shivered uncontrollably for a moment in the layers of clothing.

  “We will change into more gear when we get into the transport,” Mrs. E said, reading Ben’s mind. “The vehicle should have heat, and it will be easier to change there.”

  “Should have heat?” Reggie said. Ben wasn’t sure if he was joking, but he certainly didn’t feel the humor.

  Ahead of him and Julie, just beyond the lowered ramp, sat a gigantic truck. He could see the exhaust pouring out the pipe above the truck’s cabin, and a man waving at them from inside. Ben’s boots hit the ground, and he felt the simultaneous relief of once again being on land as well as the unsettling realization that the land was covered by thousands of feet of ice. He pushed down with the boot, feeling the packed snow give way a few inches, then stop.

  The soldiers, including Kyle and Hendricks, were already piling into the back of the truck, which Ben saw had the label ‘Delta Two’ printed on its side, followed by a string of numbers. The massive vehicle had a shed-like metal structure attached to its back end, and each side of the shed was covered with small windows.

  Ben approached the truck and helped Julie get into the back, then pulled himself up and into the spacious compartment. He turned to see the plane they had traveled in, and behind that the dots representing the buildings and structures of McMurdo station less than a mile away. They had landed on a stretch of flat land on the plane’s skis, and would typically continue onward to the base.

  Today, however, they were heading a different direction.

  “How do we know where to go from here?” Reggie asked.

  Hendricks turned around from his seat closer to the cabin of the truck. “Mr. E has identified a small section of land some distance from McMurdo that matches the triangulation of a signal he intercepted. It’s hard to say exactly, though, but we’ll follow the McMurdo-South Pole Highway until we get to the area, then pull off and look around.”

  Ben wasn’t sure what ‘look around’ meant in Antarctica, but he had no better plan to offer.

  “Okay,” Hendricks said. “Time to change into the cold-weather gear. Hope you’re not shy —“ he looked at Julie — “underclothing as well, including the long underwear. And double-up on socks. The boots are waterproof, but if any snow gets in, you’re going to regret it.”

  “You said you thought this place will be indoors?” Reggie asked.

  “We have no idea what to expect. But there will be walking, and some of it will be outside, so we need to be as prepared as possible. Besides, many of the bases are nothing but groups of simple shacks spread out on the ice, connected by ice tunnels. There’s little in the way of central heating, so we could be in these parkas for some time.”

  Hendricks seemed like he was going to sit down, but then stood once again, his head touching the ceiling of the truck. “Also — this is important — any recon or traveling we do will be with my team in front, except for Ryan Kyle, who will stay at the back. Jefferson, you’ll be riding center with me.”

  Ben looked over at Joshua and saw the man give a slight nod. He wasn’t sure if Hendricks was playing Joshua, trying to make the man feel included, but Ben knew it wouldn’t work. Joshua was a professional, level-headed man, but he wasn’t without his faults. Joshua Jefferson was not happy to be relegated to a second-in-command position, and especially not without being told ahead of time. And though his face would never give it away, Ben knew Joshua was still fuming.

  “We have about an hour until we hit the edge of the search radius. Get dressed, get acquainted with Joshua’s survival brief materials, and get some rest if possible.” Hendricks make a grunting noise at the end of the sentence, as if audibly confirming the end of the instructions.

  Ben helped Julie into the clothing — essentially a breathable base layer that looked like a compression shirt, and a heavier middle layer that would have worked well as a fall jacket in Alaska. As he helped Julie maneuver in the tight quarters, he noticed Reggie’s eyes drifting over her. Reggie was wearing the same ridiculous grin he always wore, but not much else. His shirt was balled up in his hand, and his torso rippled with lean muscles as he rotated around in the seat to get a better look.

  “You mind?” Ben asked. He kept his voice low. All I need is to have all these ripped soldiers start eye-groping my girl.

  Reggie’s impossibly large grin widened. “No, Ben, actually I really don’t mind. Damn, I gotta say —“

  Julie interrupted him. “You’ve got nothing you need to say right now, perv.”

  Reggie started laughing as Julie rushed to finish with the compression shirt. Ben felt his cheeks heating up, then the anger of being embarrassed, which only made him more angry. To prevent himself from reaching over the seat and slugging Reggie, he kept his mind occupied by helping Julie finish dressing. Her dark hair spilled down around her shoulders, and she raised her hands and pushed it up into a loose bun to contain it beneath the beanie she would eventually don. As she did, Ben couldn’t help but notice Julie’s lithe figure, outlined even more crisply by the tight-fitting shirt and lighter coat.

  Reggie caught Ben’s eye and winked, and Ben stared for a few seconds, not giving in. Finally, as Reggie’s smile became too infectious to ignore, Ben gave him a half-smile in return.

  When Julie finally had the parka on, he began dressing himself. His compression shirt fit a bit looser, and he slipped into it easily. As soon as he put the middle layer on he began to sweat, and was considering not adding the outer parka when he remembered just how cold it was outside. We’re not in Alaska anymore, he thought as he slipped into the heavy jacket.

  When they had all dressed, Hendricks led a brief lesson on the Heckler and Koch USP .45 caliber handguns each of them had in their survival packs, and passed around a bag of beef jerky as the massive truck tumbled over the expanse of white. In the distance, Ben could see the tops of mountain peaks poking through the snow, marking the edge of the Transantarctic range that stretched two-thousand miles across the contin
ent. McMurdo Station, now falling into the horizon behind them, sat at the edge of these mountains across a frozen stretch of water they were now driving over.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Jonathan

  THE LATE NIGHTS AND SUGAR-induced sprints in front of his computer certainly weren’t helping with his physique. Jonathan Colson blinked hard a few times, trying to force the code in front of him into focus. He leaned forward, feeling the pressure in his lower back build as his out-of-shape, sedentary body fought with him for keeping it awake.

  He’d been staring at the screen for five hours now, unable to stop hacking at the lines of code that drifted by. He was well aware of the cathartic, relaxing feeling that often crept up on developers, causing them to miss an important line or syntactical error due to being ‘in the zone.’

  To combat this, he’d worked his way through a line of Monster and Red Bull energy drinks he’d grabbed from the cafeteria one level above, ignoring the glare of the two hairnet-clad curmudgeons who worked every day at the station’s checkout counter.

  The cafeteria was really just a large space with a simple line of shelves, stocked with any type of food that was microwavable and lightweight, as well as a few ‘perks’ from the outside world, like his coveted energy drinks. Supplies were typically restocked once a week, and he tried to be the first in line to snatch up as many drinks as they’d allow. Nothing was paid for at the station — it was all deducted from his end-of-year pay, and many of the employees and researchers had friends at the checkout counters who would allow them to pass without even logging their selections.

  Unfortunately for Jonathan, he’d spent far too much time at his desk to make many friends. Besides the odd looks from people who had no idea who he was, he was always required to log his food and drink selections from the cafe. He didn’t mind, as the money he was making living at the station for two years, rent-free, would be enough to carry him through the next five years of life back in the real world.