“Chill,” Bones said. “Those two guys seem to know what they are doing.”
Maddock checked his watch.
They’d been back for more than half an hour, and even though their expedition had been cut short by the discovery of the wild man, it was still getting into the kind of time when they should have been able to see the guys returning across the ice at least. There was still no sign of them. It didn’t necessarily mean something was wrong, but no matter how experienced the two of them might be, it was harsh out there. A mistake could prove fatal, and that wasn’t even considering the Russians.
“We need to know who he is,” he said at last.
There was still a mission on the table. And while there was no reason to imagine that the old man was part of it, he couldn’t shake the sense that he was, somehow.
“Then Leopov needs to turn the thumbscrews,” Bones said.
The words echoed Maddock’s own thoughts. That was the reason the Lieutenant was here. Interaction. Translation. Time for her to start earning her keep. Use all the assets at your disposal, wasn’t that what Maxey kept banging on about. He turned to finding that she was watching him. He tried offering a smile. It wasn’t a natural look on him.
Leopov folded her arms across her chest, her gaze boring into Maddock. “So now you want my help?”
“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Maddock said.
“It’s what I’m here for,” she replied, echoing his thoughts.
He glanced down at his watch. It was creeping toward the three hour mark since they’d sent the scouts out. That wasn’t good. They should have had eyes-on by now. They were going to have to go looking for the two scouts.
“Look. I’m sorry, okay? It’s nothing personal.”
“If you say so,” she said, not exactly accepting the apology, as half-hearted as it was.
Maddock wasn’t focused on her reply. “I’m going to have to take another walk on the ice,” he said. “I would say you’re welcome to join me, Zara,” he said, deliberately using her first name for once. “But honestly, if those guys are in trouble out there I’m not sure what you can bring to the party.”
She took a deep breath, biting down on the objection, and nodded. He was right.
“Give me some time and I’ll have this guy’s life story for you. Anything specific you’re looking for?”
“You know the drilclass="underline" where he’s come from would be a good start, how he managed to get here. Anything else would be a bonus. Willis is keeping an eye on him. We’ll leave him with you in case you need the extra muscle.”
“I doubt I’ll need him, but that’s fine. Just leave it with me. Now go bring those boys home, Maddock, while I try to get some sense out of the Russian.” She turned and headed inside the tent.
“You okay to take another walk?” Maddock asked Bones.
The Cherokee had been taking a load off by perching on the sledge. He was ready to move out in an instant. He had a single stretch of his limbs, arcing his back, then slung the rifle over his shoulder. “Good to go.”
Maddock turned to Professor. “Professor, see if the ship’s got a better fix on that location while we’re away,” he said. “We’re losing time.” He didn’t need to say anything else.
“Sure thing,” said Professor, and stealing a line straight out of Hill Street Blues, added, “Let’s be careful out there.”
No sooner had the words left his lips than Maddock heard the unmistakable report of a single gunshot, though it echoed and folded around the mountains, seeming to roll like thunder for seconds.
Though he didn’t know who had fired it, or for what reason, in his gut Maddock feared that that gunshot would be heard all around the world.
THIRTEEN
It was almost impossible to be sure where the source of the gunshot lay, but they struck out in the direction they’d sent the scouts and trusted to luck. There wasn’t a second gunshot to follow. Less than twenty minutes after leaving camp they spotted a dark shape against the white of the ice. It wasn’t moving. Maddock increased the length of his stride. The heavy winter clothes and boots made running difficult, each lumbering step sinking through the crust of snow, each breath burning cold as he sucked it in, even at this ‘easy’ pace.
“Hey!” Maddock shouted as they started to approach, seeing not one body lying on the ground, but two. One of them lay atop the other, shielding the man on the ground with his own body. He heard no response to his call, so he tried again, “Shaw! Lewis!” Still nothing. No sound, no movement. Maddock turned the first body over, laying him down on the ice.
First thought, primary fear: that the man had been brought down by a Russian bullet. The reality was far worse.
It took a moment to be sure who he was looking at.
The man’s throat and half of his face had been torn away, the flesh already freezing where it had been pared down to the bone and touched the ice. This wasn’t something a man would have done, no matter how barbaric. Not even the Russians would do this to an enemy combatant. This was an animal’s doing. The heavy coat had offered some protection, but it had not been enough. There was no sign of life. Maddock pulled the man’s hood back to reveal a mop of red hair.
“Lewis,” he said. Beside the dead man’s body, the other SEAL gave a groan. He was still alive, barely, his companion’s sacrifice having shielded him from the worst of the attack.
Maddock turned his attention to the living.
“Shaw, can you hear me?” He placed a hand on the other man’s chest. Nate Shaw’s lips were almost blue with cold, but they moved, breath escaping from between them in wisps and curls. He groaned. His eyes flickered open for a moment before closing again. He was coming around. Maddock checked him over. A deep gash in his arm poured blood. The material of his jacket was in shreds and stained with blood that had frozen into the lining, leaving it stiff and rigid.
“Come on, Shaw. Back to us. We’ve got a mission and we need you present.” The man’s eyes flickered again and he tried to lift his head. A minute or so later he was sitting upright clutching his arm and gritting chattering teeth. Maddock had no way of knowing how much damage he had done, tendon and ligament almost certainly, as he couldn’t move it, but they wouldn’t know for sure until they got him out of his gear.
If he could still walk it would be a bonus.
“How are you doing?”
Shaw moved his lips, unable to speak, but he could tell what the man was trying to ask: Is Lewis okay?
Maddock shook his head. He didn’t need to say a word to convey his meaning. Nate was a SEAL. He knew exactly what that little gesture meant. Men die. It was the one unwritten rule of the job.
“What attacked you?”
Shaw managed a small shake of his head. Maddock decided against asking further questions. He looped an arm around the injured man’s back and helped him to his feet. Nate Shaw sagged against him, scarcely able to remain upright.
Bones had his rifle at the ready, circling around to keep a lookout all around them. There was no other living thing as far as the eye could see, but something had done this to Shaw and Lewis. And it could return at any minute. Lewis had managed to get a shot off but there was very little blood that couldn’t be accounted for from the savaging it had earned the dead man. They saw no sign of a dead animal out there, no trail of blood leading away from the body, but there were tracks in the ice and snow.
“What did this? A polar bear?” Maddock asked. He knew the big bears were the apex predators on Wrangel Island. Certainly neither the native wolves nor Arctic foxes could have done this.
“Big cat.” Bones narrowed his eyes as he focused on the scene. “I can tell by the tracks.” There was absolute confidence in the statement, even though Maddock hadn’t seen the big man give the tracks any more than a cursory glance. “We need to move out.”