‘In your dreams, pal.’
‘I want us singing off the same sheet, Cain.’
‘A requiem?’
‘How do you think we rescued Raul? Against all odds?’
Cain laughed. ‘You call this a rescue?’
‘We did the impossible then. We’ll do it now.’ He turned back to the panel. ‘Now handle to NEUTRAL and we start on the ramp. Move ramp lock valve handle to UNLOCK.’
‘Check.’
‘Move ramp valve handle to UP. Pump until all locks visibly disengage.’
Cain did it, watching Bell. The man’s lips were splitting and there was frost nip on his cheeks. He apparently thought that being inside the plane was enough protection for his face although it had to be 40 below. I’ve told you once, Cain thought. Your next lesson is courtesy of the continent.
‘Now lock valve handle to NEUTRAL.’ Like many zealots, he had an officious streak. ‘Ramp valve handle to DOWN. And pump up to 500 PSI.’
Cain pumped again. The ramp slowly lowered toward the vista of brutal terrain.
‘You see?’ Raul’s disciple blinked at the glare of their graveyard, seeing nothing but a field of opportunity. ‘Now our only problem’s fuel storage.’
They gave the battery two hours but it was useless. The heating element warmed a little but the coolant was unaffected. Cain said, ‘Won’t do it. We’d need more batteries to get the voltage.’
‘So why not pack the engine directly with the warmers? You’ve got enough.’
Cain nodded slowly, again surprised by the man’s quick mind. ‘Okay.’
‘Always a way,’ Bell grinned. He went off to check on the others as Hunt came into the plane holding a thermos salvaged from the galley. ‘Cocoa.’
‘Great.’
She dragged goggles from bloodshot eyes. ‘How’s it coming?’
‘We might get the Hagg running. But we’re still pissing into the wind.’
‘They don’t get it, do they?’
‘How are you tracking with Raul?’
She cracked the ice around the plastic cover of the thermos. ‘He’s playing it cool.’
‘You’re useful to him right now.’
She got the top off, poured hot chocolate in it.
He gulped it down before the crystals spread through the liquid and it froze. ‘What’s the wattage of the Hagglunds’ heating element?’
‘The internal electrics run off 24 volts DC. The heater runs off 24O volts AC.’
He handed the cover back, grateful for the momentary warmth in his gullet. ‘So how do we get Raul’s head out of his arse?’
‘You can’t. He knew he was a phoney once. But now he believes his own press.’
‘Are the civilians okay?’
‘Zia won’t live.’
‘John?’
‘He’s amazing considering his age. He’ll be all right while he’s in the tent. But I’d like to kill that teenage bitch. And I know Raul’s waiting to flay me. So — still want to hold off?’
‘You want to try and take out four armed men?’
‘We could do it.’
‘Perhaps. But why bother?’
‘So go along with their nonsense? Watch them die? Then knock off who’s left?’
Cain saw Jakov emerging from the crew toilet. He seemed to think the plane was still an amenity. ‘Incoming.’
She spotted the Slav. ‘Nice knowing you, Cain.’
As she left, her outer glove brushed his.
The rest of the day was hell.
There were three 44-gallon drums and various containers. It wasn’t enough. Cain told them to fill them completely to guard against condensation. Mullins climbed up on the broken wings to try and siphon from the overwing refuel ports. Eventually they discovered the small condensate drains that released water, then fuel from the bottom of the tanks. Mullins used a screwdriver to push the small inner part up and start the flow but got fuel on his gloves, which wasn’t a good idea. By the time they’d finished, he was the worst of them — close to hypothermic, vision blurred, light-headed, hands stiff and unresponsive.
‘Got another night here,’ Cain panted, desperate to defrost his feet and stinging hands. His nose, runny with the cold, was now filled with frozen moisture. That made him gasp through the mouth and the cold air seared his throat. He’d worked too hard, too long.
Bell nodded. Snow had frozen his anorak hood to his balaclava and his goggles were layered with rime. He was shivering, stumbling, barely able to stand. He said nothing, just staggered toward his tent.
Cain followed, wondering about Eve and the others. As far as he knew, they hadn’t emerged all day. He didn’t have the energy to check them and hoped Hunt had. He knew Raul would be in good shape. The bastard had barely left his tent.
He entered his own tent and pulled the draw-cord tight. The wind was stronger, snapping the fabric and making the guy ropes sing. He slumped, too tired to remove his outer layer.
Jakov was pumping the stove. His face had tell-tale white patches and his ungloved hand shook as he lifted the kettle onto the flame.
All of them were shaking, which was good. At least their muscles still had the energy to shiver.
‘Jesus, my hands are killing me,’ Mullins moaned.
Cain said, ‘Be glad. When they stop hurting, you graduate to amputee.’
Jakov glanced at Cain. ‘So, fellah, you think we not make it, huh? So why we kill ourselves?’
‘Because those two mad bastards want you to.’ He wearily got his mukluks off and strung them up on the tent. The stinging was extreme. He could only think of one thing. Food. Soup. A meat bar. Pemmican stew. Like idiots they’d had no lunch — just survival biscuits and frozen chocolate.
Jakov felt his face as if exploring it for the first time. He winced with pain. ‘Jeez, so cold. Is awful. Terrible.’
Cain smiled. ‘Gets worse. Gets so windy that buildings and vehicles blow away. So cold that screwdrivers snap, tracks crack, teeth fillings fall out and if you aim high when you piss, it hits the ground as ice crystals.’
Mullins took his fingers from his mouth. ‘I’ll tell you now. I didn’t sign on for this shit.’
Jakov said, ‘What we do?’
‘Eat,’ Cain said. ‘Best thing.’
‘I could eat elephant seal.’
‘If you’d seen them crapping in each other’s faces, you wouldn’t.’
The tent was getting warmer. He took off his inner pairs of gloves, examined his hands. They seemed in reasonable shape. He hoped his feet were as good.
During the long cold night, he woke. The wind had temporarily died and a thin moon made the tent a dark blur. He’d been alerted by a sound outside like something dragged through the snow. He looked toward the entrance but there wasn’t light enough to cast a shadow. Then he heard a scratching. He half sat up, angry about the handcuffs.
Someone was out there in the snow. Had they flipped? Hypoxia was a menace, could make you lethargic or deranged.
He waited, watching the entrance.
Hunt? Surely not.
The cinched oval was being opened. Someone was trying to get in. But quietly. Hands now undoing the double zippers on the inside layer.
Then the dark oval of a face, the flash of metal.
Zia had put the knife between his teeth to free his hands.
Flesh on metal. Too late, he knew what he’d done. His lips were stuck to the blade. If he wanted to stab someone, he’d have to wrench off his lips.
‘Bad move,’ Cain said, and elbow-jabbed the others. Mullins jerked up, half-asleep.
Jakov took it in faster. ‘Where you going, old bugger?’ He got his body half out of the bag. His inner gloves were still on. He picked up the kero tin, slammed the base of it into Zia’s face. The face vanished with a muffled moan.