Beneath the Ice (30 page)

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Authors: Alton Gansky

Tags: #thriller, #suspense, #action adventure, #christian, #perry sachs

BOOK: Beneath the Ice
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The platform upon which Perry stood was
slightly elevated, giving him a better view into the shaft. The
cable continued to be drawn from the hole and wrapped around a
large drum. Two miles of cable took up a lot of space. But it
wasn’t the cable that caught his attention. It was the back end of
Slick emerging into the Chamber.

Enkian turned and watched
the large, torpedo-shaped device
surface.
“Your mission begins as soon as your friends move the
cryobot out of the way.”

Perry felt a chill that had nothing to do
with the air temperature. He looked at Jack, who had not left his
side. Jack couldn’t return the gaze. Gleason stood on the other
side, shoulders slumped like a man who was holding up the
world.

It took half an hour to clear the entrance
to the shaft, a phenomenal speed made possible only with the
ordered aid of Enkian’s men. It was clear that Enkian was becoming
impatient.

Perry used the time to
adjust his suit, check the systems for the fourth time, and prepare
his soul. There was a good chance he would
fail, and if he failed, he would die. If he died, Enkian
would certain
ly send someone else down to
retrieve a brick. Perry reminded himself that his failure would
probably mean the death of a friend.

“It’s time, pal,” Jack said.

“I know.”

“We’re praying for you. You know that.”

Perry nodded. Gleason stood by Jack and Dr.
Curtis. A few steps behind them, Griffin, Gwen, and Sarah huddled
together. He could see tears in their eyes.

“Cheer up, everyone,” Perry said. “Remember,
I planned to go down anyway. It was all part of the mission.”

“Not like this,” Jack said. “Not with these
murderous clowns standing around with their guns. We should run
tests first.”

Jack was right. Perry had intended to spend
a week in testing: sending the suit down empty and monitoring its
life support systems, its reaction to current, and a dozen other
parameters.

The top half of the suit was lowered over
Perry, and he wiggled his arms into place and shifted his shoulders
until he was in the tight space. The helmet was 50 percent clear,
high-strength plastic that gave the illusion that the world was
suddenly curved more than it had been a moment before.

He had been in the suit dozens of times,
practicing in the same tank NASA used to train astronauts for
EVAs—space walks. That pool was heated, and rescue divers were
never far away. In a few moments he would be lowered into a
tight-fitting hole and descend through two miles of ice.

Jack and Gleason tightened the metal ring
that sealed the top half of the suit to the bottom. Perry was fully
encased. He turned his head in the bulbous helmet to catch another
view of his friends. The tension was palpable.

“Radio check,” a voice said over the
speakers in his helmet. It was Gleason. Perry could see him
standing near the computer and monitor. He was wearing a headset.
Perry knew his voice was coming over speakers attached to the
monitor, but the headset provided the microphone necessary for
Gleason to talk to Perry.

“Check.”

“O-two feed looks nominal.”

“Roger that.”

“Heat?”

“Toasty.”

There was a jerking motion, and Perry felt
himself being lifted from the platform. A small crane would move
him over the hole and lower him. A plastic-coated support cable was
attached to a metal loop just behind the helmet. Power feed and
optic lines ran from onboard cameras along the support cable.

He could see the shaft approaching, but once
over it, he lost sight of it. The helmet kept him from looking
down.

The motion changed. He was no longer moving
over the ice floor but was descending. As he was lowered, he came
to eye level with those in the room. The armed men stood around,
faces as stoic as ever. Sarah had joined Jack and Gleason at the
controls. Gwen and Griffin stood side by side, Griffin’s arm around
his sister. Enkian was closest, anticipation clear on his face. Tia
was by his side. He caught a glimpse of Dr. Curtis, who gave an out
of character wave and then closed his eyes.

Perry was jostled as his feet entered the
hole. He had peered down the hole and knew that blackness was
waiting to engulf him. As he inched his way down, he caught sight
of Commander Larimore standing a few steps away from Enkian.

He was smiling.

For a moment, Perry assumed the smile was an
offer of encouragement, but it didn’t look right. It appeared more
sneer than smile.

Perry looked for his friends. He needed to
see them, to draw strength from the knowledge that there were
people who cared enough to support him, and more importantly, to
pray for him. Gwen and Sarah both looked frightened and on the
verge of tears. He flashed a smile their way. Then he caught a
glimpse of Jack. Friendship was not defined by the laws of physics
and nature. Perry could feel the man’s concern, sense his fear—a
fear not for himself but for Perry. Jack mouthed something. It took
a moment for Perry to decipher the lip motions: “Go with God.”

Perry would go with God. He had no other
choice.

“‘
From the breath of God ice is
made,’” Perry said, “‘and the expanse of the waters is
frozen.’”

 


What was that?” Enkian asked.

Jack fixed him with a steely glance. “You
asked if Perry knew the Bible, didn’t you? That’s a passage from
the book of Job.” Jack turned back to the sight of his friend
descending into the shaft. “Godspeed, my friend. Godspeed.”

 

The Chamber with its artificial light and human
inhabitants gave way to the glistening white of ice. Perry had no
room to move. Slick had carved out just enough space for the suit
to fit. His hands, encased in the rigid arms, were folded in front
of him, his feet dangled above nothingness.

A passage from Psalms came to mind:

 

Where can I go from Your Spirit? Or
where can I flee from Your presence?

If I ascend to heaven, You are there;
if I make my bed in Sheol, behold, You are there.

If I take the wings of the dawn, if I
dwell in the remotest part of the sea,

Even there Your hand will lead me, and
Your right hand will lay hold of me.

If I say, “Surely the darkness will
overwhelm me, and the light around me will be night,”

Even the darkness is not dark to You,
and the night is as bright as the day.

Darkness and light are alike to
You.

 

He was about to test the truth of that
passage.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter
26

 

 

Henry Sachs was
shown
into the kitchen of the White House,
his wife Anna by his side. They were led to the unexpected place by
a young Hispanic man who introduced himself as the president’s
“body man.”

“I’m the personal aide to the president,”
the man said and smiled. “I do the grunt work . . . and I love
it.”

Sachs saw the president seated at a
country-style wood table. He was wearing khaki slacks and a blue
polo shirt. He looked tired.

“Come in, Henry, come in,” he said, waving.
“I hope this isn’t too informal for you. Pie always tastes better
in an informal setting.”

“It’s fine,” Sachs said, puzzled. He and
Anna had just flown from Seattle to Washington, D.C., at the
request of the president. They were worn, wearied by travel and
worry. The body man pulled out a chair for Anna, and she took it.
“Mr. President—”

President Calvert raised a finger and shook
his head. “I appreciate you making the trip on such short notice. I
know you have a great deal on your mind and that things are
difficult.”

A man in a chef’s uniform stepped forward
and placed three plates before them. Each held a slice of cherry
pie and a small mound of vanilla ice cream. He then served
coffee.

“Leave the pot, Bob,” the president said.
“And you better leave the pie.”

“If you would like an additional piece, I
will be happy to serve it,” the man said.

“No,” Calvert replied. “Just leave
everything on the table and make sure everyone has left the
kitchen. I would like some private time with my friends.”

“But, sir—” the worker objected then changed
his tone. He nodded and said, “Yes, Mr. President.”

“You have cooks in the White House at this
hour?” Sachs asked.

“It’s one of the benefits of being
president. The hours are long, and meetings can occur any hour of
the day. It’s nice to have someone who can brew a pot of coffee
when you need it.” He waited a few moments before speaking again.
“I grew up far from Washington. My roots go back to Iowa farmers.
Growing up, most of my meals were eaten in the kitchen. It was
where the family gathered and where friends felt at ease. This job
requires that I wear a tuxedo to many meals. A man can’t eat
properly when wearing a tuxedo.”

“I understand, Mr. President,” Sachs
said.

Calvert looked around the kitchen. “Please
eat.” He took a bite of the pie and then looked at Henry and Anna.
“I have information for you. One of our eyes in the sky was able to
take a few photos of the site where your son was working. As you
suggested, we didn’t see anyone wandering around outside.”

Anna raised a shaky hand to her forehead,
and Sachs placed his hand on her knee. “I guessed as much.”

“There are, however, more ways of seeing.
Satellite technology has come a long way. You’re a man of
technology, Henry, so you can understand that. I can’t give you
details because the apparatus is still highly classified. In fact,
what I’m about to show you is a breach of secrecy, but you have a
right to know. Besides, it’s very hard to fire a president.” He
reached down by his chair and pulled a manila folder to the table.
He opened it and slid it to Sachs, then he took another bite of
pie.

Sachs pulled the folder close and
immediately recognized what he was looking at: a photo of barren
ice with two domes and two square buildings. “I recognize the
domes. I helped design them.”

“That first photo shows the site is still
intact and apparently functioning. There isn’t much to see: just
the buildings and one other thing. It’s the other thing that is
interesting.”

Sachs looked at the photo again, and Anna
leaned in from his side. “I don’t see anything unusual—just the
domes and other buildings and the plane . . .”

The president nodded. “Look at the aircraft.
Does it look familiar?”

“No.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“No aircraft should be there. The aircraft
that crashed was supposed to be the last flight in or out for
weeks. It was part of the security precautions. Who does it belong
to?”

“That’s part of the mystery,” Calvert said.
“Look at the next photo.”

Henry did. The unknown airplane filled the
paper. He could count the windows and read the numbers on the tail.
“Can you trace the registration number?”

“Yes. In fact, we already
did, and it’s registered to an oil com
pany
out of Houston. The kicker is, that plane is sitting in its
hang
ar. I sent men to check it
out.”

“You mean the plane is in two places?” Anna
said.

“No,” Sachs explained. “He’s saying the
number is in two places. The number on this plane—” he pointed at
the picture— “is stolen.”

“Why?” Anna asked.


So we can’t do what we’re trying to do,” Calvert said. He
sipped
his coffee. “We can’t trace the
aircraft from the photo. Someone knew we might be
looking.”

“What someone?” Sachs asked.

“Wait, there’s more I want you to see.”
Calvert reached across the table and turned the page.

This time Sachs saw the domes again, but
they were marred by red blotches. He studied it for a second.
“Infrared?”

The president nodded. “The red smears are
people. If they were outside, we might have a decent look at them,
at least enough to recognize someone we know, like your son.”

“You can see faces—?”

“Don’t ask,” Calvert said.
“We’re not going to discuss such things
.
Just know that if your son were strolling across the ice, we’d be
able to identify him.”

“Henry?” Anna said. “Does that mean Perry is
alive?”

Sachs studied the photo closely, counting
the red dots. “There are too many,” he said, lifting his eyes to
Calvert. “There should only be eight people there. I count double
that.”

Calvert raised an eyebrow.

“The plane,” Sachs said.

“Exactly,” Calvert said. “Someone came to
visit. There’s more. Keep going.”

Sachs turned the photo over, revealing yet
another shot from space. This time there were two aircraft.
“Another plane.” On instinct he turned the page again to find
another infrared shot. The number of dots was now over sixty. “What
is going on?”

“One aircraft leaves,
supposedly with your son and crew on board, and it goes down.
Search and rescue crews begin looking for the downed craft hundreds
of miles from where we now know it
crashed. Why? Because someone was dictating information to
throw
everyone off track.”

“But why?” Sachs stared at the
president.

The president leaned
forward. “I’m going to tell you a strange story, Henry. You’re not
going to believe it, but my source is good. Very good. I know,
because he was connected to the group that is doing this. Not
deeply, but others in my administration are. This is
one for the conspiracy books.” He looked around
the kitchen and, seeing no one, continued. “Right now, I have some
key people under guard, people who until today have been trusted
advisors. You don’t need to know who they are. All you need to know
is that something big is going on, and the people behind it have
their tentacles in every major government on this planet. They have
reached closer to the Oval Office than I want to talk about. I know
this because someone is making a frightening sacrifice to reveal
this information.”

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