Justin knew from previous missions that as a career pencil pusher, Johnson had perfected the inter-departmental game of favors and back scratching. Assigning the colonel to the investigation team meant that the credit for resolving this case would go to both agencies, proving Johnson’s competence in forging strong cooperation. The colonel would also serve as the scapegoat, single-handedly responsible for each and every potential failure. Johnson was covering all angles.
“And because of the sensitivity of this mission,” Johnson continued, “and the CIS’s increased concerns about our interaction with our own citizens, I’m adding the counsel to this mission. She’ll provide her expertise during questioning of witnesses and collecting their testimonies.” She gave Anna a nod.
Justin looked up in time to catch Anna’s smile. Her eyes resembled a splendid sunrise over a calm ocean, with glitters of sunrays sparkling off the water’s surface. She’s so excited, as if making the cheerleading team. Justin suppressed a grin. Poor girl doesn’t know what she’s getting into.
Johnson looked at Justin. “You’ll be in charge of this mission. Carrie will assist you in gathering the evidence about these ghost ships.”
Carrie nodded after two long seconds, which, under the circumstances, was a considerable delay.
Johnson ignored Carrie’s passive objection and returned her gaze to Justin.
His heart pounded in his chest. The opportunity for a field mission was finally in his hand. “You’ve got it, boss.”
“I expect this team to cooperate fully with the Joint Task Force North and its Rangers in carrying out this mission. The Arctic is under their jurisdiction.” Johnson tapped a folder with her index finger and pushed it toward Justin. “In addition to maps and pictures of the area, here’s a list of useful contacts, Rangers, and local chiefs. Trustworthy sources that have proven themselves during our operations in the North.”
Justin browsed through the folder, his eyes running through the names and the pictures, searching for a familiar face. Johnson was assigning him a sensitive mission, with two strangers, whose credentials were yet to be tested in the frigid Arctic environment. The support of a former partner would be extremely valuable.
He stopped on the fourth page and smiled. A middle-aged man, with thin lips and an even a thinner line of a gray moustache, a long curved nose, a pointed chin and almond-shaped brown eyes smiled from the portrait. Justin did not need to check the name of the Canadian Ranger typed under the portrait. The friendly face had refreshed his memory. “Kiawak Kusugak,” he mumbled, “it’s been a while.”
Justin locked eyes with Carrie, reassuring her with a quick wink. Unnoticed by Johnson, who was writing in her notebook, the glint of his eye was caught by Alisha, who replied with a slick grin. I don’t want to be an outsider, Justin translated her grin. I will make my way into the inner circle.
“Sounds perfect.” He closed the folder and looked at Johnson. “I’ll contact the JTFN right away and talk to one of their Rangers.”
“I’m sure there’s no need to remind everyone about the importance of this mission,” Johnson said in an almost solemn tone. “It’s a time-sensitive priority, but the need for secrecy trumps the need for a hasty completion. We’re keeping this very low-profile. The populations of Ellesmere and Baffin are quite low, but the potential for mudslinging is still incredible, especially if things get out of hand. I don’t want to be accused of interference or pressuring the locals into cooperation. This operation should be completed without any scandals. Understood?”
She lectured at the group but lashed her piercing glare at Justin and Carrie. This is not Libya, her glare told them. Don’t screw this up.
They both nodded in unison.
“Great.” Johnson stood up, and the team members followed suit. “Start preparations right away, with the goal of departing as soon as possible, hopefully by tomorrow. Based on your findings, we’ll work on a course of action. Good luck.”
She shook everyone’s hand, and they left her office.
“Have you ever been to the Arctic?” Justin asked Anna as they headed toward the elevators. She was walking to his left, while Carrie was to his right, two steps behind the colonel, who led the group.
“Yes, Yellowknife. Last August, for a weeklong conference.”
“Summers are a breeze there,” Carrie said. “The winters, hmmm, not so much.”
“I’ve been to Iqaluit and Nanisivik,” Alisha said without waiting for anyone to ask her and without looking back. “Iqaluit in January, Nanisivik in July. A few years back, I ran the Midnight Sun Marathon, which takes place, of course, during the night, but when the sun is still very much shining in the skies, between Nanisivik and—”
“Arctic Bay,” Carrie jumped in. “It’s thirteen miles west of Nanisivik.”
“Exactly,” Alisha said. She slowed down and turned her head. “But that was quite a while back, oh, maybe twelve, thirteen years ago.”
“Arctic winters are far from a walk in the park.” Justin slowed down. “We get freezing snaps here too, but nothing like minus forty for months and months.”
Anna flinched.
“He’s right,” Alisha said. “It’s essential we dress warm, very warm. Plenty of Gore-Tex and many layers.”
Carrie nodded.
Alisha picked up her pace. “I’ve got to run to another meeting, but send me an update on the preps.”
“Sure,” Justin replied. “Since Johnson wants the utmost secrecy, we’ll fly commercial to Iqaluit, then charter a plane to carry us north. In order to avoid any unnecessary attention, we shouldn’t land right near any of the communities of eastern Ellesmere or Baffin. Once I’ve confirmed we have a Ranger on board, I’ll send you a draft itinerary.”
“Good,” Alisha said.
“Do you mind sending that to me as well?” asked Anna.
“Not at all,” Justin replied.
“Thanks, I need to be in my office in ten minutes.”
“I’ll keep everyone informed on any new CSE reports,” Alisha offered.
“That would be great.” Carrie shook Alisha’s hand, as they came to the painting of the explorers and their dogsleds.
Alisha gestured with her head toward it. “That’s Sir John Franklin and his crew,” she said to no one in particular but loud enough for everyone to hear. “He was a great explorer, but…. Oh, a sad story with a terrible ending.”
“Why? What happened to him?” Anna asked.
“He starved to death,” Alisha replied. “In the Arctic.”
Chapter Two
“When’s Uncle Jim coming?” Olivier tugged at Justin’s jacket. “It’s so cold out here, and we’ll miss the game.”
“He’ll be here in any second.” Justin scanned the parking lot for Jim’s white Honda and stroked the little boy’s blonde hair. “We’ll see the whole hockey game. Don’t worry.”
They were pacing in front of the main entrance to Scotiabank Place, the home of the Ottawa Senators, as the hordes of joyful fans swarmed towards the gates. The Senators were going to battle the Anaheim Ducks that night. In the words of five-year-old Olivier, they were going to roast some duckwings, instead of ducklings. Jim, a university classmate of Justin who had taken a different career path — financial advisor in a big bank — was supposed to join them for the game.