Daniel Ganninger - Icarus Investigations 03 - Snow Cone (7 page)

-Chapter 13-

Galveston
awakened out of his stupor as he sat transfixed to the words coming out of my mouth.  There were enough juicy details to excite his desire to make it into one of his conspiracy theories. 

We were barely in the air for our flight to Nuuk, the capitol of
Greenland, when I finished my current dissertation.  My theory was sound and Galveston agreed that the circumstances surrounding it provided no other logical explanation.  We played out as many scenarios as we could think of as to why Tony had seemingly done what he had done.

The connections seemed too logical, at least for any case we were involved in.  It just never seemed to work out this clean.  I was beginning to develop a bit of skepticism that we were missing a bigger picture, however.  I surmised that
Galveston’s conspiracy rationale was beginning to influence my thinking.  But the pieces seemed to fit, although we were forcing some of those pieces into place.

For starters, Tony had an excellent motive.  He had information that there was radioactive material, most likely from the natural degradation of uranium that was known to be in the country.  He worked for a company that had the resources to exploit such knowledge.  Above all else, the country was on a path to open uranium exploration and mining.

Unfortunately, I knew nothing about uranium or how it was pulled from the ground.  Neither did Galveston, nor did Joe.  I assumed it was a bigger operation.  But one question nagged me, as it did Galveston—why would a company resort to armed men to discourage a geologist from researching the area?  It seemed odd, and where there were things that didn’t add up, a whole different story usually reared its head.

We quickly began to process our plan.  First, we would locate the gunmen; they were our prime concern.  If they were still there, we would observe from a distance—a very long distance.  I had no desire for my obituary to read,
“Roger Murphy, shot in Greenland”.  Next we would…well, we didn’t have a next since at the present moment we had no idea who we were dealing with.  

The three hours and twenty minute flight passed rapidly as we played out every scenario we could possibly encounter. 
Galveston was entering his usual hyperactivity mode.  He always got a wee bit ramped up before a “mission”.  We had only just started calling them “missions”; we thought it sounded cool and important.

The
land of Greenland was beginning to pass underneath us as we crossed over the eastern border and traveled across the interior.  I was in awe at the sight, nothing but jagged, craggy ice that stretched for miles upon miles with the occasional mountain that sprung into view.  It was a beautiful visual but extremely intimidating.  We had never operated in terrain like this, unless we counted the snowball fight we had while traveling through Colorado.  We would soon be able to add Arctic explorer to our resume.

We arrived in Nuuk and spent a few hours in the airport of the capitol city before leaving for our final destination.  We then flew up the coast of Greenland to the town of
Upernavik on the northwestern coast of the country.  After we landed, Joe informed us that we had been lucky to have experienced such an unusually smooth flight during this time of year.  My stomach was grateful that it turned out that way.

“I hope you guys are ready.  This can be a frightfully inhospitable climate,” Joe said seriously.  “The people are gems, it’s the terrain that’s scary.”

“Great, Joe.  I feel better already,” Galveston announced as he peered out the airplane window at the environment that would be ours for the next few days.

I was greeted by a friendly blast of cold air and whipping wind that cut through my light coat as I stepped off the plane.  I didn’t like the cold, which made me immediately question our decision in coming here.

We were greeted outside of the airport by one of Joe’s friendly contacts.  He was an older Inuit man named Hamut, and he would be our guide to the ice flows.

Hamut and Joe took us to a local eatery where we dined on some sort of Greenlandic soup concoction with mussels and a side of halibut before retiring for the night in a small cabin behind Hamut’s house.  The next morning we would begin the long journey to Joe’s research grounds. 

-Chapter 14-

We began our journey in the early morning, but not before Galveston and I carefully went through our extremely large backpacks under Joe’s watchful and experienced eyes.  The pile of unnecessary items grew in height as Joe shook his head at some of our purchases.  Galveston had even made the excellent decision of bringing two cans of soup.  He had no can opener so it made complete sense. 

After a few hours our packs were thinned down to an acceptable amount of gear.  Joe was careful to check our coats and boots to make sure we wouldn’t freeze to death.  He even placed out the proper layering of clothes for the next morning, just as a mother would for a child before the next day of school.  We were clearly out of our element.

Hamut was ready with his own snowmobile and prepared an additional pair of snowmobiles for us.  We would take the vehicles up the coast and as close to the area of Joe’s research as possible.  Galveston rode with Joe, and I rode with Sally, since neither of us had any experience driving a snowmobile.

The wind was fierce, and I pulled the hood of my parka down tight over my face so that only my goggles appeared.  As we began the drive, I was impressed by Sally’s skill in negotiating the terrain.  She easily handled the large machine and the sled attached behind it that contained a significant proportion of our gear.

We drove for three hours, and the sun began to shine brighter, providing some relief from the blistering cold.  Joe had explained this was a prime time to be in the area since in the coming months the arctic air would pour down from the north, and the temperatures would become inhospitable.  Any semblance of civilization had faded long ago, and there was nothing but shining masses of ice and rock around us, mile after mile.

Hamut stopped and pointed to a small shack on an icy hill.  It was our refuge, and in the last few days he had supplied the camp with provisions.  I was glad to finally get a reprieve from the cold and thanked Sally for getting me there safely.

Galveston hated the cold as much as I did, and he ran to the cabin in the hopes of warming up.  It took some work to get a generator working, but soon we were able to warm ourselves over an electric heater. 

“How can anyone willfully come to a place like this for their job?”
Galveston asked me, rubbing his hands together.

“I don’t know.  We need to only take cases in tropical areas from now on,” I replied, trying to get the blood circulating to my feet.

“A little extreme, isn’t it fellas?” Joe responded after hearing our exchange.

“A little?  Joe, you have a little crazy in you,”
Galveston said smiling.

“I love it here.  It takes a different skill set to be successful in this area,” he said proudly.

“That’s a skill set we don’t possess,” I concluded.

“When are we going to hike to the glacier?” Sally inquired.  She seemed blissfully unaffected by the cold.

“In the next hour, I think.  The winds will be low, and the forecast is supposed to be clear.  I will take you two to the area where I first saw the armed men.  I have a GPS device on the ice that measures the movement of the glacier.  I need to retrieve it to download the data.  The position ought to give us a good perspective down into the valley.”

“Sounds good,”
Galveston said nodding his head.  “We need to be cautious, but I’m ready to get started.”

“Me too,” I lied.  I really didn’t think we were going to find or see anything. 

The area seemed too expansive and vast for anyone to find anything, but as we began the hike up the small mountainside I realized one could see for miles in all directions.  There were no trees to hide behind or rock outcroppings to obscure a view.  There was just an endless mass of jutting ice.

The hike to the GPS device took two hours of mind and muscle numbing work.  Sally proved to be a machine and traversed the area with ease. 
Galveston and I were finding it difficult to keep up.

“What’s with her?” I asked Joe as Sally scaled another icy boulder.

“Sally loves to hike.  She’s sort of an adventurer.  She’s been all over the world.  That’s why I convinced her to be my assistant.  If we run into a problem, she’ll be the one to get us out of it,” Joe answered, huffing for air.

I was surprised and embarrassed I had misread her.  Even
Galveston’s ears perked up at the statement.  This little chatterbox was proving herself right before our eyes.  I hadn’t realized it, but she was negotiating the safest and easiest path for us.  I was impressed.

Sally turned and yelled back to us.  “I found it.  It’s right where we left it!”

Joe hurried his pace and raced past us.  “Thank God,” he exclaimed and disappeared up through a narrow crevasse.

Galveston
and I hurried ourselves to follow, and as we took the last few steps to the top of the climb, we were greeted with a sweeping view of the valley floor. 

Joe and Sally were huddled over the GPS device that measured the creeping movements of the giant glacier we were standing on.  Joe had many of these machines scattered on various portions of the glacier.  The GPS simply measured how far the ice was moving, and it also contained instruments that measured other items; such as air temperature and dew point.  I observed where he had taken ice core samples, and they resembled large dimples in the ice.

The ice was smooth and had a fine layer of snow on top that crunched as we stepped on it.  Galveston and I momentarily pulled ourselves away from the view to ask Joe some questions as he fiddled with the knobs on the machine.  He was clearly excited and placed a thumb drive into a slot in the side of the device to download the latest data.

“Joe, is this where the men greeted you the first time?”
Galveston asked. 

Joe didn’t look up and continued to concentrate on the machine.  “Yeah, right over there.” He pointed to an elevation in the ice, about fifty yards away.  “I saw them come over that portion of the ice flow.”

“Here, I’ll show you exactly,” Sally offered.

She led us away from the geologist, who was so content with his work that a meteorite could have struck and he wouldn’t have noticed.

“You’re hard to keep up with,” Galveston said, trying to keep pace with Sally.

“I love to hike.  I just finished an excursion in the Swiss Alps.  It was beautiful.  I spent two weeks hiking up and down with nothing but my pack.”

“I’ve been there too,” Galveston replied, “but not for hiking.  I was chasing a girl around St. Moritz.”

“I love it there.  Did you catch her?”

“Catch who?” he responded.

“The girl—did you catch the girl?” Sally asked again.

“Oh, no.  She was too fast for me.  I’m more interested in a bit slower gal,” he laughed.

“I like to slow down too, except when I want to talk,” she said, and gave
Galveston a wide smile.

“You don’t talk that fast,” he said in his most polite way.

Sally slowed her walk, ever so slightly, “but I do talk—a lot.”

Galveston
threw his head back and let out another laugh.

“There it is.”  Sally pointed at the ice mound.

It was about thirty feet higher than the adjacent terrain, and when we got to the top, it offered an even more spectacular view of the valley to the left and an ever increasing rise in the glacier to the right.

“Roger, pull out the binoculars.  Let’s see if there is anything or anyone out here but us.”

I took off my pack and searched through the contents until I located the large binoculars.  They had a hefty magnification, and their size showed it.

Galveston
began to scan the area of the valley floor.  It was hard to discern anything but ice, and after a few minutes he handed them to me.

“Take a look.  I’m not spotting anything.”

I took them from him and began to scan the area.  The view bounced even with the computer chip that was supposed to smooth things out.  The slightest movement caused the view to jump widely; the exact reason why telescopes are on stands.  I looked the binoculars over and realized we hadn’t set the image stabilizer to the “on” position.  I didn’t mention it since I didn’t want Sally to think she was with a bunch of amateurs.

When I began to scan the valley again, I noticed things very differently.  In the distance I could make out a distinct road carved in the ice.  I followed it to where the neighboring mountain cut it off from view.  All of sudden I saw a flash of light—the tell-tale sign of a reflection.

“Get down!” I yelled to Galveston and Sally.

The pair looked startled but then crouched quickly

“What is it?  What do you see?” Galveston asked excitedly.

“I got a reflection,” I answered as I laid flat on my stomach.

“It could be from the ice,” Sally interjected.

“I don’t think so.  It was way too bright,” I responded.

“Mirror or window?”  Galveston inquired.

“Mirror, yeah, I think so.”

“What does that mean?” Sally asked, beginning to grow nervous at our change in demeanor.

“I think we have eyes on us, probably another pair of binoculars, but it could be a window.  There is either someone scanning this area, or someone is lost.”

I crawled to the edge of the ice to get another look and pulled up my hood to block out any possibility that I would reflect light back to the unknown position where I saw the flash.

As I trained my view on the road, I became immediately shocked at the sight.  A group of men, dressed in white pants and coats, were walking along the road.  The item that had sent the flash of light appeared to be the side mirror of a truck, painted completely in white.  They were hard to discern from the white background, but it was apparent that some of the men were carrying something at their side.  I allowed
Galveston a look, and he confirmed what I saw.

“A few of them have weapons.  I can’t tell what kind, but the black stands out and looks like an assault rifle.  I figure the others may be workers,” he said as he peered through the binoculars.

“Let’s get some pictures,” I told him, and I reached in our bag to retrieve a small digital camera.

I was amazed we had thought about bringing this piece of equipment.  We had the ability to attach the camera to the binoculars in order to take some digital photographs, using the magnification of the binoculars to get a close-up view of what was taking place in the valley floor below.  The pictures wouldn’t be of a stellar quality, but they would provide a good snapshot of the men and their vehicles.

Galveston began taking pictures of the men clad in white.  I checked the results, and they appeared grainy but clear enough to reveal what the men and equipment looked like.

“I don’t think we should stay too long,” I said nervously.

“Agreed.  Let’s pack up.  Sally, is there another vantage point we can get to so we can see where they’re traveling from?”  Galveston asked her.

“There looks like a spot up there,” she answered, pointing to the icy mountain to our left.  “It would be a tough hike, but if you guys want to give it a go I’m sure I can find a path.”

“Let’s do it, while it’s still warm,” Galveston said.  Saying it was warm was an ironic statement, however.

Sally pulled her pack on her back, and without hesitation, began to walk toward the steep side of the mountain of ice and snow.

We hiked for another two hours, and it was brutal.  The cold and difficult terrain were beginning to wear my muscles down, but I was determined to try to keep up with Sally.

She negotiated the inclines and crevasses like an expert, finding paths up the mountainside we would have never been able to find on our own.  When we finally reached a point between two peaks, I was ready to pass out.  I sat down to catch my breath and had no inclination to see the view below.

Galveston, who was proving to have better endurance than I thought, looked down from our new vantage point upon reaching the top.

“Roger, you have to see this,” he yelled down to me.

I moved onto my knees and pushed myself to a standing position.  I slowly and painfully walked toward him.  When I got to the top, I looked into the area that had been obscured from our previous point of view.  The new sight was amazing.  Below us, along the line where the mountain began to rise from the earth, was a string of white buildings.  They looked like trailers lined end-to-end, and a various assortment of heavy machines sat nearby.  Everything was painted white.

“Wow,” was all I could say.

“I think we’ve stumbled on a mining operation—a covert mining operation.”  Galveston brought the binoculars to his eyes.  “They even have white camouflage covering what looks like storage containers.  There is no way anyone could see this from the air.”

He handed the binoculars to me so I could see for myself.  The entire camp hugged the base of the mountain, right along the inclines.  A road seemed to lead from the camp, but there was no road leading to it from the opposite direction.  How did they get so much equipment and machinery into such an area? 
It had been difficult enough traversing the terrain in our small snowmobiles.