Ice War (19 page)

Monster closed the trapdoor behind them. Whatever he wanted to say, he clearly wanted nobody else to hear.

“What’s up?” Price asked.

“Wilton had more news,” Monster said.

When Monster didn’t continue, The Tsar said, “Well, shoot.”

The wind shrieked above them for a moment, drowning out any possibility of conversation.

“He says he has spoken to Ryan,” Monster said, when the noise died down.

“Chisnall?” Price asked.

Of course, Chisnall.

Who else could he mean? But still she had to ask the question. It gave her breathing space. Thinking space. She needed time to get her head around what Monster had just said.

Monster nodded.

“They got a hotline to heaven now at the Pentagon?” Barnard asked.

“I just tell you what he says,” Monster said.

“So he spoke to someone who claimed he was Chisnall,” The Tsar said. “We all saw the LT go over the dam. Nobody could have survived that, no matter how lucky they were.”

“Wilton believes it,” Monster said.

Monster wanted to believe it too. That was obvious. So did Price. But she couldn’t bring herself to. She couldn’t allow herself to.

“Wilton’s never been the sharpest tool in the shed,” Barnard said.

“What did this ‘Chisnall’ want?” Price asked. “Whoever it was, he must have contacted Wilton for a reason.”

“According to Wilton, Ryan want to talk to Barnard,” Monster said. “He give this phone number.” He repeated the number from memory.

“What do you think, LT?” Barnard asked.

“When we get back to Carson, give him a call,” Price said. “Ask him some tough questions. See if he can prove he is who he says he is. But I’m with The Tsar. I think it’s some kind of trick.”

“It cannot wait till Carson,” Monster said. “That’s what Wilton say. Is urgent.”

“He calls while we’re in the middle of a top secret mission,” The Tsar said. “That strike anyone else as more than a little suspicious?”

“How would I phone him?” Barnard asked, looking around.

“There is phone at old Russian guard post, about half hour from here,” Monster said. “We could use it to contact ACOG too.”

“No,” Price said. “There’s no point in contacting ACOG until we have some kind of proof. And this ‘Chisnall’ will have to wait.”

Monster shrugged.

“So what now?” The Tsar asked.

“Okay, Wall says he can get us into Little Dio,” Price said. “He can talk his way in.”

“Talk his way in?” Monster asked.

“He speaks some strange Fezerker language,” Price said.

“It’s the high language,” Barnard said. “It’s reserved for Bzadian priests, high-ranking officials, and Azoh himself.”

“And Fezerkers,” Price said.

“As we recently found out,” Barnard said.

“Do you understand any of it?” The Tsar asked.

Barnard shook her head. “I don’t think any humans speak it. Few, if any, have ever heard it spoken.”

“But Able will speak that language,” The Tsar said. “Do you trust Wall to talk to him?”

“Not enough,” Price said. “But I think I know a way that we can use him to get inside, regardless of whose side he’s really on.”

“What about the recon north?” Barnard asked. “Who’s going to do that? We have to know if the invasion is real this time.”

“Big Billy is,” Price said. “He’s going to follow the sensor line. He’s taking a dog team and a sled, so they’ll be moving quickly. Monster, you go with him. Let us know what you find.”

That made her think of Emile. He had wanted to ride on a dog sled. But he would never have the chance.

“I have no radio,” Monster said.

“Take Wall’s helmet,” Price said. “And his spare battery. He can suffer for a while without them. Let us know what you find as soon as you’re back in com range.”

Monster nodded and disappeared down the trapdoor.

“Okay, Angels,” Price said. “Little Diomede …”

“I bet they have a phone,” Barnard said.

[MISSION DAY 2, FEBRUARY 17, 2033. 1740 HOURS LOCAL TIME]

[OPERATIONS COMMAND CENTRE, THE PENTAGON, VIRGINIA]

Able and Bowden were technicians. Wilton focused his attentions on Able. Able’s TDA (Temporary Duty Assignment) had been requested by ACOG, Bering Strait Defence Force, Technical Support Section. An assignment as vital as Little Diomede had to be signed off all the way up the chain of command, right to the highest level –General Jake Russell himself.

General Russell was above suspicion, surely? But somewhere in that chain of command was the person responsible. Barnard would probably have made short work of this assignment, Wilton thought. But she wasn’t here. He was.

He made a list of everyone who had signed off on the order, then tried to give each person a score. The more closely involved in the TDA, the higher the score. If a person participated in the planning for Uluru or Magnum he reduced their score, and if they were involved in both he crossed them off altogether. As far as he knew, the aliens had had no warning about either of those missions. There had been an unexpected patrol boat at the start of Operation Magnum, but if the Bzadians had actually known the place and purpose of that mission, there would have been a lot more than that. The boat was probably just a coincidence.

He managed to cross at least a dozen people off his list, and the rest he sorted from highest to lowest score. That gave him ten people with a high score, and no way that he could see to choose between them.

One thing concerned him. General Russell was among the ten. As head of defence forces, he had not been involved in the planning for either Uluru or Magnum, as both of those were offensive operations.

There was no real reason to suspect Russell, certainly no more than any of the others on the list. But the others were not sitting in this bunker, commanding the defences that would decide the fate of the free world.

Even the slightest possibility that Russell was involved made this a game with very high stakes, and Wilton did not enjoy being the person responsible for checking him out.

If only Barnard was here.

Price found Big Billy and Monster in a small hollow, behind the village. It was sheltered from the wind, which made it a good place to muster the dogs. When she got there, Big Billy was walking along the harness lines, checking the ropes. The malamutes snapped and snarled at each other, as if anxious to get going, but leaped and licked when Big Billy passed them.

The sled was a simple affair, just two wooden runners joined by cross slats. At the back were more slats between two raised handles. Monster was sitting on the sled, trying to make himself comfortable in among a few canvas bundles. Metallic spear heads protruded from one of the bundles. Monster looked up as Price approached.

“Looks like you got it easy,” Price said. “Got the passenger seat.”

Monster grinned. “I offered to drive but he laughed.”

She stood, watching him, while Big Billy checked the ropes.

“Tell me about Emile,” she said. “I need to know.”

“He didn’t make it,” Monster said with a short shrug. “No more to know.”

“Monster, tell me the truth,” she said, putting her hand on his arm.

Monster stared at her hand. He could not meet her eyes. That was not like him.

“You left him on the icefield,” Price said.

Monster said nothing.

“You saved yourself and left him behind,” she said, more bitterly than she intended.

It wasn’t Monster she was angry at. She knew that. But that was how it came out and the words could not be unsaid.

“Emile was not so strong,” Monster said.

“Which is why you should have helped him,” Price said.

At that moment there was no one in the world she hated more than herself. Deep down, she felt happy that Monster’s life had been spared when Emile’s had been taken. How could she be so selfish? Her shame led her to be harsh.

“I have great regret for his death,” Monster said, head bowed. “He was impetuous. Perhaps if he had waited …”

“Waited?” Price let go of his arm and stepped away. “Waited for what? What other opportunity would there have been?”

“I not know,” Monster said. “Maybe when they take us transporter.”

“Speak bloody English,” Price snapped. She shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “You know that Emile acted on my command. So you’re saying it was my fault that he died?”

“It is war,” Monster said. “People die.”

“So you do think it was my fault,” she said, aware that her voice was rising to a high pitch. “Chisnall would have done better, is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

He was silent. But by not arguing, wasn’t he agreeing with her?

“How dare you?” she said. “You’re the one that should have stayed with him, carried him if you had to.”

“Then we would have both been dead,” Monster said.

A wave of self-loathing swept over Price.

“Get away from me,” she said.

“Price–”

“Get away from me.”

Big Billy was back behind the sled now. He shouted something in Inupiat and the dogs leaped at their harnesses. The sled began to move and Monster grabbed at one side of it to keep his balance. He watched her as they pulled away.

She turned and covered her face with her hands, her whole body shaking.

When she looked back he was lost in the swirling snow.

The sensor buoy lay on the ice in front of them. A black ball with knobbly lumps on all sides, it looked for all the world like a sea mine.

Big Billy stood tall at the back of the sled. Despite the cold, he did not have his parka hood up, and instead wore a woollen hat, with his long hair streaming behind. He stood on the back runners of the sled, leaning it into corners. He shouted commands occasionally, guiding the dog team, although they seldom seemed to need instructions.

The dogs ran with little obvious effort, breath steaming from their mouths. They did not run in a row, or in two lines as Monster had expected, but in a loose pack, spread out like a fan over a wide area of ice. At the head was Asungaq, Nukilik’s dog, clearly the leader of the pack.

Watching Big Billy, Monster knew this was a man truly in his element. A wild man, untamed.

Over the flat areas of ice they made good time, sliding along with the wind in their faces and the snow hissing underneath the runners of the sled. But when they came to a ridge they had to manhandle the sled over it.

On the long stretches of sitting, Monster’s mind turned again and again to Price. He hadn’t meant to accuse her of causing Emile’s death, but it had come out that way, and that had happened because somewhere deep inside he felt it was true. They should have waited. Shouldn’t they? But who could know? If Emile had done nothing, they could all be dead by now. Or at least in a PGZ cell. Emile had saved them.

Monster tried to stretch out his legs. There was little room on the sled, and to retain his balance he had to wedge himself against the upright struts at the back, jamming his legs against the cross slats between the runners. Another buoy approached, a dark shape in the middle of a flat patch of white.

Big Billy didn’t slow and Monster watched it slide past with a strange fascination. Were they registering on the scopes at Little Diomede? A dog team and a single sled. That shouldn’t concern them greatly, he hoped. He pondered that as he watched the buoy disappear behind them.