“Where now?” Bones asked.
The fact that he felt the need to ask reminded Maddock how far they were from their comfort zone. In other situations he’d have simply looked for approval after making the suggestion himself. More often than not, he was the one Maddock looked to for his opinion. But this wasn’t his territory. They might as well have been walking on the moon.
“West.” Maddock grabbed the compass that hung from his belt, double checking that he had his bearings. He saw nothing to even suggest that man had stepped foot on this particular part of the island.
Nate Shaw led the way across the rough terrain, still cautious, planting each footstep with care. One misstep could be fatal. Maddock walked close behind him, keeping an eye on where he trod, making sure to follow in his footsteps. It was all about keeping the weight distribution on a solid foundation. If it held for one, it would hold for another. Even so, his feet slipped from time to time as he put his foot down on exposed rock. Amazingly, lichen grew on some of the stone, clinging on for dear life where there were so few signs of actual life to be seen.
Behind him, Leopov walked only a few feet away.
He felt her hand on his back twice as she steadied her balance. He didn’t mind. That was what he was there for.
He turned a couple of times to see her walking with even more concentration than he was. At least she wasn’t being careless.
Suddenly, Leopov gave out the slightest sound, a sharp sucking in of air.
Maddock turned to see her reaching out, one of her feet sinking down to the ankle where the surface wasn’t as solid as she’d clearly thought.
He reached out one had to grab her flailing arm and kept her upright.
“Thanks.” She pulled her boot from the hole that filled with water.
It was a stark reminder that although they were now on the island, rather than on the surface of the sea, and the ground was now solid enough to support their weight, they could easily be traversing a hidden river or any other kind of declivity that existed beneath the ice. One slip could have them pulled under.
He still held onto her hand as she took her next step.
Bones gave him a wry smile, making it obvious he thought Maddock’s hand had lingered perhaps a moment too long.
“So how long have you been in the States?” he asked now that the ice had been broken in more ways than one.
“Almost all of my life,” she said.
He listened as she offered some of her life story; how her father had been shot getting them out of the country, how she’d been made more welcome than she could have hoped. He wondered if that last bit were true given his team’s reaction.
“And you ended up in Naval Intelligence?”
“It’s a way of paying back.” She offered no hint whether she meant paying back a debt of gratitude to the country that had given her and her mother a new life, or if she meant that she was paying Russia for killing her father. It didn’t matter either way.
“How much further?” Professor called, his voice strangely eerie in the fog, as if it came from a hundred yards away despite the fact he followed less than five feet behind.
“Who knows?” Maddock said. “We need to set up camp so we can liaise with the ship to use each other as trig points to get the exact location of the submarine. They’ve been broadcasting a beacon, no doubt for the benefit of the Spetsnaz team. Be interesting to know if the crew realize they’re still dead, whether the Spetsnaz guys reach them in time or not.”
“Shhhh,” came the hiss from Shaw, who still held the lead. He stood perfectly still, one arm held out from his side.
All Maddock heard was silence; not even the sound of breathing broke the stillness. He took a couple of steps forward so that he stood beside Shaw at the point. He could just make out a shape in the fog.
“We could have walked straight into that,” Shaw whispered.
Although visibility had improved as they had walked, Maddock was surprised that they had drawn so close to buildings without being able to see them. He waited for a moment as the rest of the team huddled closer behind him; he could feel their presence and see warm breath drift over his shoulder.
“Wait here.” He untied the rope that connected him to the group and took another cautious step forward, and another, trying not to make a sound as he approached. Ice still crunched underfoot with every step he took. Even a single sound could be enough to alert someone to the arrival of their uninvited guests. He slipped off his mitten and pulled out his Walther. Even through the thick gloves he wore as a lining to the mittens he could feel the bone-numbing coldness of the metal on his skin. Behind him, Bones brought his Glock to the ready.
“No shooting unless we have to,” he said over his shoulder, then walked slowly away from them. Under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have needed to give the order, but he didn’t know Nate Shaw or Seb Lewis. He had no idea how they would react under pressure. And for that matter, he had no idea if Leopov was even carrying.
With each step the buildings became clearer, materializing in the fog. What at first had appeared as a huddle of low houses turned out to be a cluster of ramshackle structures that were seemingly held together by the elements that wouldn’t let them fall apart. A few leaned against one another for support as if they would collapse if forced to support their own weight. There were no obvious signs of life. Stovepipe chimneys emerged from each roof, but not one of them billowed smoke to add to the fog. He felt his body relax as he realized that they hadn’t stumbled onto a manned outpost. Whatever these building were, there hadn’t been anyone home for a long time.
He turned and beckoned the others to join him but as he shifted his weight Maddock felt the ground give a little beneath his feet. The deep, resonant sound of a crack that reverberated all around him filled the silence between heartbeats. He didn’t know whether to step back, or forward. Risked forward, but his foot slipped and a second sheering snap rang out. Too late he realized that he was standing on ice again, with nothing solid beneath his feet. The ice shifted and tilted, as if trying to buck him. It made it almost impossible to maintain his balance, the weight of the pack on his back threatening to pull him over. He tried a third step to relieve the pressure on the ice, but that only made things worse.
“Maddock!” someone shouted, but in his fight to keep control he had no idea who. Water washed over the surface of the ice as his weight pressed down on it. He only had a moment to get off the unstable platform. He tried to take a step, but the ice supporting his standing foot slid beneath him and sent him plunging into the water.
He desperately tried to spread his arms across the rest of the ice that still clung to land, letting go of his gun as he went down. It couldn’t save him, but clinging to the Walther sure as hell could kill him. The pistol skidded away from him as he kicked wildly, trying to find any kind of purchase to stop himself from sliding all the way into the ice cold water.
The tug of the current wasn’t going to let him go.
It snatched at him, dragging him relentlessly down. He bobbed up back to the surface, spitting water, gasping and shivering, fighting not to be hauled away beneath the ice. Maddock knew that if he gave into it there would be no hope of getting out once that sheet of ice closed over his head. Even a few seconds down there could be lethal. The cold stole through his clothes, sucking the heat from him.
He needed to get out of there and he needed to get out fast.
His hands scrabbled against the jagged edge of the broken ice.
He could feel himself getting heavier and heavier as the water soaked into every pore, weighing him down. The pull was relentless. The ice in his bones hardened, making it impossible to fight it. Ice cracked again and gave way beneath his arms.