Ridley let his hands rub across the smooth metal walls. “What I wouldn’t give to get my hands on the engineering schematics. Can you imagine what we might learn from this?”
Jack nodded and pointed toward the second chamber. “Mac, you take Marko, Orlando, and Angus, clear the debris away and search around inside for climbing gear.” He paused. “Marko, you’ve already been inside. Check and see if Fischer’s men removed all the bodies.”
Marko led the others into the cavernous second room. Equipment lay strewn in piles, exactly like in the first room. Marko aimed his flashlight on the huge system of racks that had held the tubes just hours before. Now the racks stood empty with wiring intertwined among the alien machinery like strands of spaghetti.
“I’ve found one!” Garrett suddenly shouted. He came in and showed Jack a red-handled ice axe.
Jack stopped digging through the debris for a moment. “We need at least one more,” he called back, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow.
“Hey, Jack?”
“What do you want, Marko?”
“There’s something here I think you should see.”
Jack stood up and turned around. “What is it?”
“There is something under the debris. Like a beer keg, but a lot scarier, with flashing panels. I don’t remember seeing them before.”
“I’m coming to take a look.” Jack stepped over a small pile of debris and then stopped. “Marko — don’t touch them.”
“Don’t worry.” Ridley’s coarse voice echoed off the metallic walls. “The last thing we’re gonna do is touch ‘em.”
CHAPTER 95
Gus Beckam regained consciousness on the floor when the shed began to vibrate to the whine of turbine-driven jet engines and variable-pitch propellers. His face felt raw, and the wood splinters lodged under the skin made their presence known, but most of the dizziness had gone. Gus walked stiffly toward the door and pushed. It gave two inches and then stopped. They locked me in, he thought.
Why would they lock me in?
Beckam shoved his shoulder into the door with all the strength he could muster. It moved, but not enough to break away the chain. He searched around the bunk house, picking up a hammer used to nail the bunks together.
Instead of pounding against the door, he slammed the hammer against the metal hinges. On the third strike, the screws holding the hinges in place moved out several millimeters. Beckam stopped to take several deep breaths; he still felt weak and disoriented from the blast concussion. He lifted the mallet with both hands and this time struck the door with an overhand arcing swing. The sound of metal twisting followed the mallet strike.
Beckam dropped the mallet and slammed into the door with his shoulder, breaking it free of the hinges and creating an opening large enough to slide through.
Beckam held his hands up to his eyes; the intensity of the light after the relative darkness of the shed was blinding. As his eyes adjusted, he watched the unmarked LC-130 Hercules lift off the ice with four lines of light-gray jet exhaust trailing each of the powerful turbo prop engines.
After the Hercules climbed several hundred feet, it made a sharp 180-degree turn and flew directly overhead at low altitude in what Beckam assumed was a radar-avoiding tactic.
He dropped to his knees and pushed a small pile of ice together with his hands. Beckam brought the ice up to his face, and then, holding his breath, pushed the freezing-cold slush into the bleeding wounds on his face.
CHAPTER 96
Fischer held on while the Hercules bounced over the ice before finally getting airborne. When the skis lifted off the ice after what seemed like an eternity, he felt tempted to breathe a sigh of relief. But he knew that Phase II of his mission still lay ahead.
Officially, Phase I included recovery of as much of the structure and its contents as possible. The President had given him virtual carte blanche with regard to completing both Phase I (recovery) and Phase II: plausible deniability.
To accomplish the latter, there would soon be a detonation. Since they hadn’t been able to gain access to the lower levels of the structure, they’d had to use a device that would destroy everything within a reasonable distance, plus ensure any technology inadvertently left intact would be unusable by humans.
For this job, one device stood out: a top secret nuclear weapon code-named ‘Copenhagen.’ Its Hafnium-Iso warhead provided a massive detonation, followed by an equally massive release of gamma-ray radiation, but zero fallout.
The Russians still didn’t know exactly what had been had stumbled upon, or they’d already be knee deep in Russian Commandos. His job was to make sure they never found out, in a way that didn’t destabilize the situation beyond where it already stood.
Fischer glanced up to see Leah Andrews staring at him. He had no doubt that if she managed to free herself from her hand and ankle cuffs and find a weapon, she’d make good use of it. Dangerous as she might be, however, Dr. Andrews still had a significant role to play when they reached their destination.
CHAPTER 97
Jack knelt beside the three metallic canisters. Each stood about meter in height and measured fifteen or so inches in diameter. They stood upright and sat side by side, each with a lighted control panel and touchpad on top.
“You’re the engineer, Mac. What do you think?”
The old mechanic sucked air through his teeth for a moment as he studied the objects from all sides. “I think Fischer left us a going-away present of high-explosives.”
“They look pretty high-tech for TNT. Think they’re nuclear?”
“Well, I’m no expert on nuclear weapons, but I suppose it is possible. That seems crazy to me, though; there’s no way you’re going to get away with exploding a nuclear weapon in Antarctica.” Ridley scratched at his stubble. “No doubt they’re on a time delay; could be set for any time.”
Jack nodded and stood. “We’ve got one ice axe, we need one more, and then at least we’ve got a chance to get out of here. Everyone fan out and dig though this place until we come up with another axe.”
Three minutes later Paulson shouted, “I’ve got another one.” He yanked the blue-handed axe from a pile of debris.
“Bring it over here.” Jack studied the handle — it still had the blue nylon safety strap attached. “Okay, Marko. It’s time to get us out of here.”
“You’ll have to free-climb it, hand-over-hand.” Jack demonstrated by slamming one axe into the wall of the crevasse, pulling himself up using the strap to hold on, and then stabbing the other axe into the ice.
“That’s a long way, hand over hand without crampons,” Marko said tentatively.
“You’re our only chance.” Jack tried to instill more confidence than he felt himself. “No one else is going to have the strength or the skill to get to the top.”
Ridley slapped the young climber on the back. “Come on, kid. You can do it.”
Marko smiled nervously. “Guess we don’t have much choice.” He glanced around. “I… uh, wouldn’t be standing underneath, in case I fall.”
“You’re not going to fall,” Jack said.
“What do I do if — when I get to the top?”
“Get to the snowcat, if they left it behind. It should have a winch still connecting a cable to the pulley above the crevasse. There’ll be a brake release on the winch. Run the cable down to us and we’ll get in the basket. If you can’t operate it or it’s not there, hopefully you’ll find a rope or something. If you can set any sort of line, I’ll climb out.” Jack paused. “You’ve got to hurry.”