Dry Ice (43 page)

“The mission is now search-and-rescue. Candy, get your team in there,” Helena said, putting as much force into her voice as she could summon.

She felt a soft hand cover hers, then grip it tightly, and looked up to see Candy Freeman’s eyes brimming with tears. Neither woman needed to speak.

*   *   *

Nik was trying very hard not to think of Tess out there on the Ice, and trying equally hard to keep his focus on the race he and everyone in the installation was running: the one against the finite and dwindling supply of power the backup units were putting out.

“Got it,” Ron said, quietly but with triumph in his voice.

“Got what?” Nik asked tightly, not moving his eyes from the screen in front of him.

The lights came on, causing everyone in the room to blink at the sudden brightness that replaced the gloom cast by the emergency lights and the computer monitors.

“I cut the diversion flow from the installation to the arrays,” Ron said. “We’re independent.”

“Good job. Any news on the—,” Nik began, only to be cut off by the roar of an explosion that shook the building they were in.

Everyone froze, staring at one another.

Jonah was the first to recover. He ran to the huge wall of windows and pulled back the heavy blackout curtains. In the near distance, a white-hot fireball lit up the pitch darkness. The body of the Dash 7 was thrown into silhouette for a moment before the light diminished to a faint, eerie blue glow.

It was the most horrifying, beautiful thing any of them had ever or would ever see.

Nik felt his body go limp and when he leaned his elbows on the desk to rest his head in his shaking hands, he realized that his face was wet with tears. He felt a strong hand on his shoulder and forced himself to look up.

Lindy stood beside him, looking tortured. “Nik—,” was all she could say, her voice thick with suppressed tears.

“They’re out,” Jonah shouted. “Both of them. They’re moving.”

Nik swung his head to look at Jonah, who was still standing at the windows, a set of night-vision goggles held to his eyes.

“They got out?” Nik demanded, grabbing Lindy’s hand and pulling her to the window as fast as he could.

“It’s got to be them,” Jonah said, handing him the goggles. “Looks like Kendra is on her way. There are two Deltas on the move.”

Nik held the goggles to his eyes just long enough to see for himself that there were two glowing figures out on the ice—one upright and one on the ground—and that both of them were moving, then he lowered them and handed the unit to someone—he wasn’t sure who because everyone had clustered around them. Ron shoved his way through the crowd and the two men clung to each other in a tight embrace for a moment.

For once, the lead programmer had nothing to say.

*   *   *

Teke and his team had been ordered to divert to Amundsen-Scott South Pole base. The admiral had barely gotten off the plane when Dr. Jack Simon, the chief scientist wintering over at the base, entered the ready room. “We picked up some seismic activity from the plateau region where TESLA is.”

Teke’s brain froze for a split second.
The volcanoes.
“An earthquake?”

“No, no, it was very slight. The signature is more like an explosion,” the scientist said as he turned around to lead the way into the base. “Come look at the tapes.”

Teke turned to the Spec Ops team still divesting themselves of their gear. “I’ll hook up with you in the common room. The support team is in there and we need to reconnoiter,” he said.

He followed the scientist down the narrow corridor and into a large, messy workroom. The leader of the support team was already there. He and his crew had arrived more than an hour ago.

“Jack, a call just came in for an Admiral Curtis,” one of the McMurdo guys said over his shoulder as Teke and the chief scientist entered the small, bare, practically makeshift office that housed four scientists and their files.

Dr. Simon had already made it clear that no one at the base had been particularly thrilled to be told they had to endure the dubious, if temporary, company of a dozen men who were so clearly not scientists. That was the support team. Then the Spec Ops team—unmistakably warriors—had arrived in the strangest-looking aircraft any of them had ever seen and the scientists’ mood became even less hospitable.

Teke reached for the phone.

“Can you use the one on that desk? I’m working,” the scientist said pointedly.

“Sure.”
Because it’s not like this call is important or anything, you dweeb.
Teke skirted the boxes of files to get to the other, currently unoccupied desk.

He grabbed the circa-1985 handset. “Curtis.”

“It’s Candy.” Her voice sounded odd, sort of breathless and nasal, and not like her at all.

“What’s up?”

“Did you see the explosion?”

“Yeah. It was the power plant.”

“Someone drove a plane into it.”

Wondering if he’d heard her correctly, Teke stared at the wall, which was covered in graphs and emails held up with pushpins and tape. “Say again?”

“Someone drove a plane into the power station at TESLA,” she repeated, pausing for a delicate sniff. “I watched in real time, Teke. It was something to see, I tell you.”

And those guys almost jumped into it at 126 miles an hour.
“I can imagine.”

“Your mission has changed to a rescue. We have no idea if there’s still power in the installation. You and the boys have to get over there and evacuate them.”

“Evacuate them to where?”

The scientists, openly eavesdropping, swung their heads in unison to look at him. “No room at this inn,” Jack Simon murmured. “I don’t care who it is. We can’t handle any more people.”

Teke ignored him. In his ear, Candy Freeman said, “TESLA has a blue-ice runway that will handle a C-17, and reconnaissance satellite images show that it’s clear at the moment. I’ve been assured by Gianni that they have jet fuel and maintenance personnel on hand. There’s a doctor and clinic at the installation. Between her and your PT, you ought to be able to triage any injuries. I’ll let you know whether you’ll take them to McMurdo first or straight to Christchurch. Just get over there. Power down whatever’s left, lock the doors, and turn out the lights.”

“Now?”

“Yes, now. Unless you have something else on your schedule,” Candy replied.

Teke gave the thumbs-up to the leader of the support team, who nodded and left the room silently.

They’ll be in their seats with the engines revved before I’m off the phone.

“What do you want us to do with the Peregrine?” Teke asked.

“Send it home,” she replied crisply. “The fire at TESLA is still burning hotter than a Yankee’s ass the day after a West Texas chili cook-off. The building had a Halon system inside, but something tells me that won’t work too well when the side of the building is ripped open. So the fire might just have to burn itself out. Listen, sugar, I think the president wants to use this phone, so you and I can have that lovefest known as a debriefing when you get back on dry dirt. I’m heading to Christchurch on the next flight, so I’ll meet you there in a day or so.”

The line went dead and Teke replaced the handset, then turned to the pair of watching scientists.

“Thanks for your hospitality. Sorry to eat and run, but we’ve got to go,” he said pleasantly.

“What happened at TESLA?” Jack Simon asked.

“You were right. It was an explosion,” he replied nonchalantly. “That seismograph of yours is pretty sensitive.”

“What exploded?”

Teke shrugged. “Couldn’t say. I’m sure it will be in tomorrow’s paper,” he said as he walked out of the room.

“Is he really that stupid? There’s no daily paper here,” said a grumpy voice he hadn’t heard before. Teke laughed as he walked down the hall.

“No. I think that was his way of telling us to fuck off and mind our own business,” Jack replied.

Got it in one, doc.

*   *   *

Gianni stared through the dark window at all the moving lights glittering in the rain, which had lightened to a drizzle. Candy had called to let him know that TESLA had been put out of commission, if not destroyed outright, and there was a team heading there to evacuate his people.

My people.
He shook his head in disgust.
What arrogance. What an unmitigated arrogant bastard I am.

No. Was.

“That’s going to change. Everything’s going to change. I’m going to be different from now on. Less of an asshole, more of a human,” he said to himself. “This is the only second chance I’m going to get. I refuse to blow it.”

He knew he’d have to meet with Candy for a post-mortem and to discuss what was going to happen next. He had immunity from prosecution, so every avenue was open to him. Croyden and his heirs had died and the board had already been in touch with him, thanking him for taking charge and hinting at bigger things for his career. Their words hadn’t thrilled him the way they once would have. The board’s promises only assured him a spot in the scrum of corporate succession and a chance to fight his way to the top.

Or not.

It would probably feel better and be better for his physical and mental health if he just spilled the rest of the beans, accepted whatever was coming to him, and then … he’d figure out the future as it happened. It would have nothing to do with Flint, that’s for sure.

Maybe I’ll head back into academia. Teach Meteorology 101 and write papers no one will ever read on topics no one cares about.

He turned to walk toward the door of the hotel room, grabbing his suit jacket and coat on the way. The two agents on duty out in the hall got to their feet when he pulled open the door.

“You guys feel like grabbing a burger and a beer?”

They looked at each other, then back at him.

“The food here isn’t good enough?” one of them asked with only a hint of a grin.

Gianni laughed, feeling lighter in his head and his heart than he had in months, possibly years. “I’m in the mood for guy food, something the Ritz isn’t famous for. Are there any decent bars around here?”

The agents looked at him, clearly not sure what to make of him.

“We just made the world safe for democracy again,” he said with a grin, shrugging into his suit coat and then his overcoat. “Let me buy you dinner. I’m not under arrest and I’m not going to try to ditch you. I just want to get out for a little while. Tomorrow is going to be hellacious.”

The more senior agent shrugged. “Sure. There’s a bar I know about two blocks away. It’s small, but they do a decent burger.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

The three men walked to the elevator and took it down to the lobby. They crossed the expensively understated space and made it onto the street.

“Left, and then a right at the lights,” the agent said, and all three men began moving in that direction.

“It’s a great night, isn’t it? The rain makes the city smell clean,” Gianni said.

“You want to let us know what you were smoking in there?” the other agent asked.

Gianni laughed as they came to a stop at the corner. “Not a thing. Some issues have worked themselves out and I feel better about things. It’s just a good day to be alive, you know?”

The traffic light turned green and they started across the street.

Gianni heard the squeal of the brakes, but never saw the car. He wasn’t even sure what happened. One minute he was on his feet, the next minute he wasn’t. He was in the air, his body numb from a massive impact, and then he landed. His breath whooshed out of him in one motion, and he felt his head smash onto the street. People were bending over him. He could hear voices screaming and swearing, but they became softer as he lay there feeling nothing except his life fading softly away.

*   *   *

Two hours after she’d driven into the power station, Tess was back inside the installation. Her left arm was immobilized against her body and much of her torso was swathed in bandages. Nik was standing next to the bed on one side, unable to keep his eyes off her. She would have smiled but it hurt too much. Everything hurt.

In the next bed lolled a bruised and heavily sedated Dan, whose shattered leg had been set in a metal splint.

“That collarbone is going to be a challenge, Tess,” Kendra murmured. “It’s probably going to need surgery. You must have landed really hard for all that gear you were wearing not to lessen the impact. It’s a really nasty set of breaks. We’re going to have to get you evac’d somehow. Maybe we’ll send up smoke signals.”

“We already did. Too bad the fucking smoke is as dark as the fucking sky,” Dan slurred. “Hope someone’s watching us on infrared.”

Kendra and Nik laughed. Tess would have if it hadn’t hurt so much. She’d opted for only enough meds to take the edge off the sharpest pain. She knew she’d need a clear head to handle whatever came next.

“Me, too. Glad you’re still with us, Danny boy,” Kendra replied.

“Hey, doc, I feel pretty damned good, considering.”

“That’s the morphine talking,” Kendra assured him. “You’re going to feel like hell in a few hours. You’re both insane, you know, throwing yourselves out the door of a moving airplane—”

“Better than the fucking alternative,” Dan interrupted, pointing a wavering finger at her.

“I’ll second that,” Tess added. “Incineration is not the way I want to die. I want to go like that bumper sticker says I should: sliding sideways into the grave with a bottle of Champagne in one hand and a twenty-year-old surfer dude in the other.”

“I don’t think that’s quite how the saying goes,” Nik said, his eyebrows up, adding under his breath, “What have you got against forty-two-year-old geeks?”

She smiled. “Not a thing. Have we gotten the comms up yet?”

“Not yet.”

“Maybe you should try blowing something up. It worked before,” Dan slurred.

Kendra shook her head and was about to reply when an out-of-breath but perplexed Fizz came running into the clinic.

“We’ve got company,” she said, panting.

They looked at her.

“What did you say?” Nik asked.