Special Agent Fuller on the other hand appeared to be completely in her thrall. He laughed at all of her jokes and she at his and during their last stopover he had invited her to join him for a candle-light dinner. She had demurred, though in such a charming fashion that Fuller had immediately apologized for any embarrassment the offer might have caused. Still, there had been just a moment, just as she turned away from him, that Dodge had glimpsed something dark and angry in Fuller's eyes.
That had been several hours earlier and not long thereafter they had struck out across the tumultuous and windswept expanse of the Southern Ocean. Their new pilot, ostensibly an experienced polar flier, had ascended to the upper limit of the plane's operating ceiling in order to avoid the relentless pummeling of the winds — any higher and they would all pass out in the thin atmosphere — but the trade-off was a bitter chill that permeated right through both the insulation that lined the interior of the cabin and the layers of winter clothing the passengers wore.
They had been forced to change planes in Puerto William, a tiny town in remote Tierra del Fuego, Chile. Burton's float plane was poorly suited to the harsh frozen environment where they were headed, but the rough-looking pilot had helped them secure the use of an aircraft better suited to their needs. In this case, that plane was a Curtiss CT-32 Condor; an immense twin engine biplane airliner that had, according to its owner, been used as a cargo plane by the Argentine Air Force.
The new pilot, Stevens, seemed too young to have as much experience as he claimed, but Burton vouched for him — for whatever that was worth. The smuggler had even volunteered to be Stevens' co-pilot for the journey and the two of them had approached Dodge shortly before departing Puerto William to ask for details about their final destination. Stevens had produced a map of the southernmost continent, a map with far too many blank spaces, which well illustrated just how little was known about Antarctica and asked the question Dodge had been dreading. "Where exactly are we going?"
He had not revealed to anyone the means by which he would find the Outpost. He wasn't sure why he felt compelled to keep it a secret, but as far as everyone else in the party was concerned, the location of the Outpost was marked with an X on a map that existed only in Dodge's head. He had a rough idea of where it was relative to the southern tip of Africa and a spot on the map called Flat Island, but the reality was that he had no idea where it was in relation to fixed locations on the continent itself. His plan had always been to simply let unique homing characteristics of the Float Car guide them to their destination while maintaining the illusion that he was in control. In the end, he had chosen a place a location near where the Trinity peninsula — a long arm of land that seemed to be reaching out toward the tip South America — broadened into the main body of the continent. The map identified the region as "Palmer Land". Dodge had directed Stevens to land the plane as close to that location as he could, but the closer they got to that arbitrary starting point, the more he had reason to question the wisdom of keeping his plan a secret.
Burton crawled over the crates of supplies that filled the cramped cabin in order to deliver the bad news. "We're about to hit some weather. It's going to be… ah, challenging. You folks should probably buckle up. And hang on to something."
"You can land us safely," Fuller interjected unexpectedly. His comment sounded more like a command than either a question or a vote of confidence.
Burton nodded. "Yes, sir. But we're going to get bounced around. There's nothing I can do to prevent that."
As if to underscore his warning, the plane shuddered and Dodge felt his stomach roll over as Stevens performed some kind of aerobatic maneuver to keep them aloft. Burton was thrown up against the ceiling, then crashed down on top of Dodge, who quickly gripped the pilot's arms to prevent him from being further tossed around. It was not the first instance where they had hit some turbulence, but this time it did not abate. The fuselage creaked and groaned under an almost constant assault from the elements.
Dodge looked Burton in the eye. "Are we going to crash?"
The pilot's expression seemed inappropriately calm as he answered. "We might. You can let go now. I should get back up front."
Fierce winds and turbulence continued to buffet the plane and Dodge's self-doubt grew with each lurch. Had he, by not revealing the secret of the finding the Outpost, set in motion events that would destroy them all?
It was impossible to tell if the plane was descending, but the shuddering grew worse and so did his certainty that they would crash. Whether they could survive that crash and successfully load onto the Float Car was anyone's guess.
The Float Car! Of course.
Dodge glanced over his shoulder at the metal contraption which dominated the open cargo area in the rear of the cabin. Like everything else, it was shaking violently, straining against the nets and straps that held it in place.
"Fuller. We've got to get in the Float Car now."
The FBI agent gaped at him.
"If we crash, it's the only way to survive." The situation wasn't getting any better and Dodge knew there was no time for further explanation. He unclasped his safety belt and began cautiously making his way through the aisle, informing the others as he went. Newcombe, like Fuller, seemed unable to comprehend the possibility that the flight might not end well, but Amelia Dunham reacted without question. She loosened her safety restraints and moved with the grace of a ballet dancer through the pitching cabin. The message finally seemed to sink in with the others, but for Newcombe and Fuller, the short traverse was like trying to ride a bucking bronco through a carnival fun house.
Suddenly a different kind of vibration, accompanied by a sound like a tree splitting in two, rippled through the plane.
"That can't be good!" Dodge shouted.
Fuller gave Newcombe a none too gentle push into the makeshift chassis of the Float Car and pulled himself in after. Only then did he realize that Dodge was moving in the opposite direction.
"Come on!"
"I'm going to get the pilots."
If Fuller answered him, he didn't hear it, because at that instant a tempest exploded inside the cabin. Cyclonic winds ripped at Dodge, battering his exposed face with splinters of wood. Squinting through the stinging rush of air, he saw that a section of the fuselage had torn away. He realized with a sick sensation that the chair he had just been sitting in was gone along with a sizable portion of that side of the plane.
With renewed urgency, he heaved himself forward into the cockpit. "The plane is breaking up. You've got to come with me."
Burton looked at him, incredulous. "Who's going to fly the plane?"
"It doesn't matter. The Float Car's shields will protect us."
Burton had seen Dodge and the others arrive in the strange flying contraption, so there should have been no reason for him to hesitate, but that's exactly what he did. He just sat there, looking first at Dodge and then at Stevens, as though waiting for someone to give him permission.
"Come on!"
Dodge felt a hand on his back; Fuller had made his way forward and now shouted in Dodge's ear. "What the hell are you doing? Somebody has to land this plane. It's our only way back."
Dodge ignored him and focused his words on the recalcitrant pilots. "If you stay here, you'll die!"
He pushed past Fuller and made his way through the chaos. The wound in the side of the aircraft seemed larger, as if the entire rear of the plane might break off at any moment. Many of the obstacles that had made movement through the cabin difficult only moments before were gone now; the crates containing canned food and jugs of water had tumbled out through the hole. The plane was nosing down, but whether it was a controlled descent or death dive, Dodge would never know. Using the seatbacks for handholds, he hauled himself up the sloping deck and into the driver's seat of the Float Car. Fuller and Burton were right behind him.