Eternity Base (38 page)

The pilot looked over his shoulder as Bellamy poked his head in. "Captain Jones." He nodded at the copilot. "Lieutenant Langron. As soon as we're topped off, we'll be lifting."

"Major Bellamy. Have you heard anything about the target site?"

Jones shook his head. "Nothing. We've got a Hawkeye in the air, and it should be in radar range of the site soon. I'm not sure if that will give us anything, but at least we'll know if we're the only ones in the sky."

Bellamy frowned. He'd expected something more.

"We're full," the pilot announced.

Bellamy made his way to the rear. His men had opened the bundles and were passing out weapons, each man receiving a type suited to his specialty and talents: silenced MP-5SD submachine guns, PM sniper rifles, SPAS 12 shotguns, M249 Squad Automatic Weapons (SAW), LAW 80 rocket launchers, and sidearms. If there was anybody left alive at the target site and they were antagonistic, Bellamy's men were ready.

A
IRSPACE,
R
OSS
S
EA

The radar operator stared at his screen. "Shit, there's still nothing out here," he muttered to the man on his left. He'd never seen such a blank screen: not a single aircraft in a six-hundred-mile radius, the Osprey having disappeared as it landed at McMurdo.

He flipped a switch, and the radar went from air to surface. This was a different story. He tried making sense out of the jumbled mess on his screen. The surface bounce back was very cluttered, even where the sea should be. He was used to a flat reflection where ships stood out in stark relief to the ocean. Here ice formations broke up that image, creating a confusing disarray.

The naval officer began sorting out the screen, trying to see if there was anything identifiable. He fiddled with his controls, adjusting and tuning, like a kid playing a computer game.

"Hey, I've got something here," he told the SIGINT operator. Keying his mike, he relayed his report back to the Kitty Hawk. "Big Boot, this is Eye One. We have a surface target, bearing zero nine three degrees true. Distance, two hundred seventy-three miles. Speed zero. Over."

"This is Big Boot. We copy. Out."

Chapter Twenty-Nine

R
UPPERT
C
OAST,
A
NTARCTICA

Pak had been tempted to pile his survivors on board the sled and ride down the glacier, but wisdom had prevailed and they lashed themselves to the rear of the sled as a human brake, keeping the bomb from getting away from them only with great difficulty.

They'd gotten off of the glacier less than ten minutes ago, and now they were on top of the ocean, making their way across the ice pack. In most places the ice was so thick they couldn't tell the difference between it and the polar cap, but in other places the ice thinned out and, with the snow blown off by the wind, the ocean could be seen below. These areas were dangerous, and Pak had his men skirt around them. He estimated another four to six hours until they arrived at the Am Nok Gang, which was now hidden by the surface ice.

P
ENTAGON,
A
LEXANDRIA,
V
IRGINIA

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.

"It's Han Gul—Korean," Hodges informed him.

Morris felt a chill hand caress his spine. "Where did the Hawkeye say this originated?"

Hodges tapped the map. "Here, along the coast due north of Eternity Base. It was someone on the shore communicating with a ship the Hawkeye has located in the icepack 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. He spoke up. "Do you have an ID on the ship?"

"No, sir. The E-2 is more than 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 that plane will be able to get in a bit closer."

Morris turned to the duty officer. "Get the SECDEF here ASAP, and also General Kolstov."

He looked at the situation map. The Kitty Hawk was still 1,100 miles from Eternity Base, more than a thousand from the Korean ship. "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 Korean ship?"

The naval officer didn't even have to consult his notes. "Not yet, sir."

"When?"

"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 were falling into place, even though he wasn't sure what they all meant. The North Koreans had one bomb and were 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. There was a variety of answers, none of them good.

If Hodges's source at SNN hadn't alerted them, the whole thing might have been overlooked—even the explosion, since no one would have initially thought of a nuclear weapon. The reaction here definitely would have been much 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 General Kolstov strode in. He idly wondered how the Russian managed to appear so unruffled after being dragged out of bed so early in the morning. The uniform was immaculate. Kolstov's bald head gleamed under the overhead lights.

"I understand you have something new?" The English was perfect also.

"Yes." Morris quickly filled him in on the data picked up by the Hawkeye, 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 Russian embassy. He had no doubt that the Russians kept a close eye on their sometime ally 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 boards 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. "My job is to get that bomb back." He knew they never should have let the goddamn Russians in on this. The guy was going to give him bullshit arguments about freedom of navigation when a nuclear weapon was involved.

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 off his words. "They've already detonated one bomb. That proves they are capable of doing it. I have no doubt that they would detonate the second. I will not allow that ship anywhere near a potential target. And I am sure this is tied in to what is presently happening in North Korea.

"We have the potential here for all-out war on the Korean peninsula, and I believe that your government is in agreement with mine that we don't want war. I am willing to take the chance I am wrong, but I will 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 about anything. "Could be," 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 thought he would rather crawl naked over broken glass for a mile. But he forced a smile. "What do you have in mind, my friend?"

R
UPPERT
C
OAST,
A
NTARCTICA

"
How are you feeling?" Riley asked as they collapsed to their knees on the crest of the ridge.

'Tired," Sammy replied.

"Ditto," remarked Conner.

"Are either of you sweating?"

"No," they answered in turn.

"Good. Drink half your canteen. I'll melt some more ice in a minute." Riley 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?" Conner asked.

"The ship doesn't appear to be moving, and I don't think they could have gotten there that quickly." Riley 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." Conner's voice sounded resigned. "We'll never catch them."

The walk up the ridge had just about wiped out Riley. A quarter of the way up, Conner had started stumbling from exhaustion, so he'd taken Conner's pack and strapped it on top of his own. For a little while she'd done better, but he could tell she was at the limit of her resources. Sammy seemed to be doing better than her sister, which for some reason didn't surprise Riley. When he'd first met Sammy in St. Louis, he'd sensed her strength.

"You two stay here. I'll go after them alone." Riley knew if he didn't catch the Koreans before they got on the ship, the chase was in vain.

Sammy 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 Conner's only comment.

Riley was too numb to argue. He took out the stove and got it started. He emptied his canteen into 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 their canteens.

"Are you ready?" he asked as he put away the stove.

Sammy stood. "Do you think we can catch them?"

In reply, Riley took two snap links and slipped them through small loops at the end of his twelve-foot length of rope. He reached under Conner's parka and hooked one end to her belt. He hooked the other to Sammy's and then himself to the center.

"What's this for?" Sammy asked.

Riley 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."

S
AFE
H
OUSE,
F
REDERICKSBURG,
V
IRGINIA

The tall man sat in the shadows, watching his partner work Woodson under the glare of the track lighting.

"Who was Peter?"

Woodson blinked, trying to see in the face of the bright lights. The drugs had altered the chemical balance of the old man's brain; reality was no longer a valid construct for him, nor would it ever be. But the two men wanted answers, and they'd keep on until Woodson could no longer think.