by Bob Mayer
Sammy was surprised when Riley slid over until their legs were touching and started talking to her. “You have any thoughts about what you’re going to do when you get back to the real world?”
Sammy forgot the murmuring across the room and turned her attention to Riley. “Not really. I just want to get this over with.”
“I doubt that you’ll be able to go back to your old job, regardless of how this turns out.” Riley regarded her for a few seconds. “I know I haven’t said much since we met at the airport, but that’s because I’ve been concentrating on the job.” He considered that statement for a second. “All right, that’s not entirely true. It’s also because I’m not very good at talking to people. It’s also because I’ve been very caught up with my own loss.”
Sammy met his eyes. “I appreciate that. I’m not really sure how I feel myself. Why don’t you tell me what happened? You said earlier—”
She never finished analyzing those feelings as her world went upside down. It was as if a large hand grasped the reactor room and lifted it, tumbling everyone to the floor. The lights went out and a tremendous roar, like thousands of locomotives charging by, deafened Sammy’s ears. Her last thought as she was thrown across the room was regret that she and Riley hadn’t finished their conversation.
Chapter 24
ETERNITY BASE, ANTARCTICA
The fact that the epicenter of the blast was underground muffled the kinetic effect of the explosion but utterly disintegrated Eternity Base, producing a puckered crater more than a quarter mile wide. The fireball lashed across the ice, searing the surface for more than two miles in every direction. The refreezing of the briefly melted ice produced a landscape that resembled sheets of glistening glass.
The immediate radiation was absorbed by the ice in a relatively short distance. The delayed radiation in the form of strontium 90, cesium 137, iodine 131, and carbon 14 was grabbed by the howling winds; as the elements rose in the atmosphere, the radiation began spreading over a large area.
VICINITY ETERNITY BASE, ANTARCTICA
The flash and thermal energy bathed the snowy plain in dulled white light—the swirling snow having lessened the effect—the heat at a bearable level here, more than fifteen miles from the epicenter of the blast. Five minutes before the hour, Pak had turned the vehicle so the rear pointed directly toward the base, but still the shock wave split through the storm and slammed into the back of the SUSV with gale force. The vehicle actually lifted a foot off its rear tracks before rocking back down and continuing on its way.
Pak said a silent prayer for Sergeant Yong, who had volunteered to remain behind and detonate the bomb and not slow them down with his wounds.
MCMURDO STATION, ROSS ICE SHELF, ANTARCTICA
More than five hundred miles to the west of Eternity Base, needles on seismographs at McMurdo Station flickered briefly and then were still. Scientists scratched their heads, perplexed at the cause of the burp in their machines. Dutifully they recorded the data and forwarded it back to the United States. Over the next twenty minutes, other Antarctic stations forwarded the same data as their machines registered it.
The two favorite theories bandied about at the various U.S. stations were either an earthquake or a massive split of ice falling off the ice shelf into the ocean. They were both wrong.
RUSSKAYA STATION, ANTARCTICA
The senior scientist at the Russkaya Station looked at the various reports on the seismic disturbance and noted that a strong electromagnetic pulse had just washed over his station. The former might be explained by an earthquake or ice breaking, the latter by a severe sunspot. Together, they added up to only one answer—a nuclear explosion. But how? Why? Most importantly, who?
Ah, well, the scientist shrugged, that was for people much more important than he to worry about. He wrote up a report and had his radioman send it over the one transmitter that had survived the EMP—an old tube radio that had been here since the base opened. All the modern solid-state circuitry radios had been fused by the electromagnetic pulse.
ETERNITY BASE, ANTARCTICA
Sammy checked her body from head to foot, making sure all the parts were still functioning. Everything seemed all right. She sat up and turned her head from side to side, listening. Someone was moving nearby.
The total dark was the worst. Eyes wide open, she could see nothing. Suddenly a small light flared next to her and, in the glow, she saw Riley holding his flashlight.
“You OK?”
Sammy nodded. “I think so.”
Riley swiftly ran the light around the room. Devlin appeared to be unconscious, with several boxes of supplies piled on top of him. Conner was moving groggily, hands on her head.
Riley ignored both of them and jumped to his feet. He shone his light up into the shaft. A pair of feet disappearing into ice were all he could see twenty feet above. Riley turned to Sammy. “Hold the light for me. Swenson’s buried.” He rapidly climbed up.
Reaching the feet, Riley hooked one arm through a rung and squeezed one of the feet with his free hand, just to let Swenson know help was here. He hooked his fingers and tore at the ice, pulling away chunks. The cold helped to numb the pain as he tore his fingernails. Riley worked by feel, the glow from the light in Sammy’s hand doing little good this far up.
“Is he all right?” she called.
Riley kept working. He had yet to get any sort of reaction from Swenson. “I need help! Get up here.”
Sammy climbed up to just below Riley. “When I get him free I’ll need your help to lower him down. He’s unconscious.” He shoved his arm up along Swenson’s chest and pulled hard. A large chunk of ice broke free, bounced off Riley, and tumbled below. He felt Swenson’s body shift and quickly grabbed the rope that was still hooked to a rung, easing the body down.
“Get him!” he yelled as he tried to unhook the snap link with numbed and bleeding fingers. Sammy had one arm wrapped around Swenson’s body, but Riley couldn’t unsnap the anchor. “Fuck it,” he muttered and pulled out his knife. The razor-sharp blade parted the rope with one swipe.
Riley reached down to help Sammy with Swenson. Together they lowered the body to the reactor floor. Riley jumped down out of the shaft as Sammy pointed the flashlight at the man’s face. The eyes were closed. Riley used his good hand to feel Swenson’s neck. He leaned over and placed his cheek next to the pilot’s mouth to see if he could pick up any breath. No breath, no pulse.
Riley tilted Swenson’s head back and blew in three quick breaths. He linked his fingers together and pressed down through the bulky clothes on the chest. Within ten seconds he was into the cardiopulmonary resuscitation (CPR) rhythm.
He didn’t know how long he’d been at it when Sammy slid in on the other side and relieved him. Riley sank back on his haunches, his arms and shoulders burning with exhaustion. The pain from his hands was now a deep throbbing. Sometime during this process, Devlin must have regained consciousness, because he was sitting up, holding his head between his hands. Sammy had checked Conner and him and they both seemed to be all right.
Riley gave Sammy an estimated five minutes, then he took over again. Still no movement or sign of life. Riley shut down his mind and concentrated on the routine.
“He’s dead.” Sammy’s voice barely penetrated Riley’s mind. He kept on. Finally he felt Sammy’s arms wrapping around him from behind. “He’s dead, Riley. You can’t bring him back.” Riley allowed the arms to pull him away from the body.
“How’re Devlin and Conner?” Riley asked as he finally accepted the reality of Swenson’s death.
Sammy aimed the light across the room. “How are you?” she asked quietly.
Devlin lifted up a haggard face. “What happened? Earthquake?”
“I don’t know.” Sammy looked at her sister, who appeared to be disoriented. “Are you OK?”
“I think so.”
Devlin repeated his question. “What happened?”
Riley wanted to laugh at the naiveté of the question, bu
t the feeling died just as quickly as it came. They were past the petty stuff now—way past. “One of the bombs went off.”
Sammy looked about the room. “How could we have survived?”
Riley answered succinctly. “A quarter mile of ice between us and the blast center. The low yield—ten kilotons. An underground burst, which helped contain much of the energy. Being in this reactor, which was built to contain radiation and is heavily shielded. And a lot of luck.”
“I don’t think we’ve been very lucky,” Sammy disagreed. “We started with eight people. We’ve got four left.”
“Why did the bomb go off?” Devlin asked dumbly.
‘To leave no trace,” Riley replied. ‘There’s nothing left of Eternity Base now except this reactor. They have the other bomb free and clear, and no one will ever know it’s gone.”
‘There’s us,” Sammy countered.
Riley conceded that point. “They probably underestimated the protection the reactor gave us. As far as the Koreans are concerned, we’re history.” Riley thought about what he had just said. “We may well be history, too, if we don’t get up to the surface.” He looked around in the dim glow cast by the mag light. “We can talk about what to do when we get out. If we stay here, we’ll die.”
PENTAGON, ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA
General Morris looked up as General Hodges rapidly entered the situation room. He didn’t like the look on his subordinate’s face.
Hodges wasted no time getting to the point. “Sir, several research facilities in Antarctica have picked up a seismic disturbance. We’ve analyzed the reports.” Hodges swallowed. “Sir, based on the triangulation and the size of the shock wave, we believe there has been an approximately ten-kiloton nuclear explosion at the location we have been given for Eternity Base.”
“What about imagery?” Morris asked.
“We’ve taken some satellite shots, but nothing can be made out through the cloud cover. That large storm front still covers most of Lesser Antarctica.”
“What’s the status on our unit heading down there?”
“We’ve alerted a Special Forces unit in Panama. They’re on board a Combat Talon. Estimated time of arrival is 0500 Zulu tomorrow.”
Morris turned to the situation room’s operations officer. “What fleet assets do we have in that area?”
The officer looked up at the large world map that encompassed the entire far wall. “Nothing in the immediate area. The Third Fleet has a carrier group near Australia.”
“Order them to head south as quickly as possible.”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned back to Hodges. “What about the fallout?”
“Should be minimal, sir. The winds will sweep it out into the South Pacific. As I said, it was a very low yield.”
That didn’t make Morris feel much better. “What about the Russians? Have they picked it up?”
Hodges sighed. “They must have, sir. They have a research station less than three hundred miles away from the Eternity Base location. General Kolstov has been notified.”
Morris took a moment to collect his thoughts. “All right. I have to contact the president.”
Chapter 25
SNN HEADQUARTERS, ATLANTA, GEORGIA
The computer log showed there had been no contact with Eternity Base for almost five hours. A message had been sent more than two hours ago, but no acknowledgment was received. The support team that Parker had dispatched was sitting in New Zealand, unable to go any farther until the weather cleared. Cordon shut down his computer and put on his suit jacket. It was time to get all the information, and there was only one man who could give him that. He made his way down the hall to the corner office of the CEO.
After checking with the secretary, Cordon entered. Parker was busy on the phone and waved for him to take a seat. Cordon settled into the large leather chair that faced the desk and waited impatiently.
Parker finally hung up. “What can I do for you, John?”
“We seem to have lost communications with the Antarctic team. They didn’t acknowledge a message sent a little over two hours ago.”
Parker frowned. “Are you sure the problem isn’t on this end?”
“Yes, sir. I had everything checked. I did notice, though, that there were two messages sent to your access code only, and I was wondering if they might have anything to do with this lack of communication. Perhaps you told them not to make contact?”
“No.” Parker shook his head. “I gave no such instructions.”
Cordon proceeded to play his hand. “There’s something else I’ve found out from one of my sources.” Cordon’s present position was a direct result of those “sources.” He often supplied SNN with information that no one else could. It had not yet occurred to anyone at the news show that Cordon might be a two-way conduit for hard-to-find information, thus increasing the flow from each side. He was known as Falcon to one side and as vice president of operations to the other.
“Seismic detectors have picked up a disturbance in the vicinity of Eternity Base. The cause hasn’t been determined, although my source suspects an earthquake.”
He could see that he had Parker’s full attention now. “An earthquake? Do you mean our team could be in danger?”
“Well, it’s kind of funny,” Cordon replied. “My source told me that an earthquake was the only logical explanation he could think of, but one of his colleagues said it looked more like the signature for a nuclear blast.”
Cordon felt no sympathy as Parker blanched. “Nuclear blast?”
“Yes, sir. Of course no such thing is possible down there, so . . .” Cordon paused. “Are you all right?”
“Oh, my God!” Parker turned to his computer and hit some keys. “Come here. I need to show you something.”
ETERNITY BASE, ANTARCTICA
Riley felt at home in the dark. Gravity told him which way was up, and that was all he needed. He’d found the shovel still lodged in the ice where Swenson had been digging, and he continued the work. The explosion seemed to have loosened the ice, as it broke free more easily. Riley estimated he had made almost fifteen feet so far. The surface couldn’t be far ahead.
Thirty feet below, the mag light made the tiniest glow as Devlin, Conner, and Sammy cleared away the ice. Riley shoved the steel tip of the shovel upward, and a large block broke free. Riley swung up again and sparks flew as steel hit steel.
“I need the light,” he yelled. A small pinprick of brightness appeared below and grew stronger as Sammy climbed up to join him. Riley reached down for the light and examined the ceiling. It was apparent now why the shaft had filled with ice. The hatch was breached, half open. Riley played the light around. Both hinges on the far side of the hatch had succumbed to time and pressure; they had popped. The problem was that Riley had no idea how much ice was on top of the hatch. He handed the light back to Sammy.
He unhooked himself from the rung and, after warning Sammy, stepped down one rung and then pushed his feet against the near wall and allowed himself to fall across the three-foot-wide tube. He was braced now, in the classic chimney climb position. Inch by inch, Riley edged himself up until the edge of the hatch was at eye level. Cautiously, he kept his balance with one hand while he used the other to probe through the foot-and-a-half opening into the ice. Small pieces fell out, bounced off his stomach, and tumbled below.
“I’m going back down,” Sammy called out as she beat a hasty retreat.
After five minutes, Riley was in a position where he could brace his feet on the hatch itself. It took him a few more minutes to realize that he could dimly see. There was light from above, penetrating the ice.
TASMAN SEA
The Kitty Hawk was one of the oldest aircraft carriers still on active duty with the U.S. Navy. Built in the early sixties, it had been extensively refitted in 1991 and then assigned to the Third Fleet operating out of Pearl Harbor. It was at present steaming east in the center of Battle Group 72, a collection consisting of the Kitty Hawk, two
Aegis cruisers, two destroyers, four frigates, two resupply ships, and two submarines hidden underneath the waves.
They’d just completed a joint training exercise with the Australian navy. Admiral Klieg, the battle group commander, was taking this opportunity to correct several of the deficiencies he’d detected in some of his ships during the exercise. Early this morning he was on the bridge of the Kitty Hawk, watching as his ships reacted to a practice alert, when his staff operations officer brought him a classified message for his eyes only.
Klieg examined the flimsy message under the red glow of the battle station lights. He took a minute to think, then he addressed the waiting operations officer. “Call off the present training exercise. All ships, battle cruising formation. Flank speed.”
“Heading, sir?”
“Due south.”
FORD MOUNTAIN RANGE, ANTARCTICA
The SUSV was two and a half hours out from Eternity Base and had traversed twelve miles in that time. Since the explosion the cab had been silent, each man lost in his own thoughts and worries. It was Kim who broke the silence.
“Sir, you said I would know the plan when I needed to. Could you tell me when that will be? We have already lost half our party. If we lose you, I will not know what course of action to take. Nor will I know what to do with that.” Kim nodded over his shoulder at the sled bobbing along in their icy wake.
Pak’s real reason for not including Kim in the entire plan was that he hadn’t believed it would work, and he knew his XO would have thought the same thing. In fact, Pak still didn’t believe they would be able to accomplish the entire mission despite the fact that they had been successful so far, albeit with the loss of five men, seven if he counted Captain Lim and his copilot.
