The Cold Edge

by Trevor Scott

  Sitting in his hotel room on Karl Johan, McLean thought about how Velda had worked like a real pro. Not that she didn’t in the past. But this was different. To Gary Dixon, Velda was a supermodel, and he had insisted she follow him around Oslo as arm candy. She had even changed into a more revealing outfit, with high heels that made her rise above her new friends. McLean had been able to listen to all of their conversations, knowing she had played the part of her life.

  Now, he waited in his hotel room, glancing out the window at the busy street below, the major thoroughfare of Oslo, with the Royal Palace and the Norwegian Parliament a few blocks away. Thousands of pedestrians streamed by below, but he still caught a glimpse of Velda as she strut along the sidewalk and into his hotel lobby.

  A few minutes later came a low knock on his door. McLean let Velda in and she smiled at him before taking a running jump and landing on his queen-sized bed, rolling onto her side and kicking her high heels to the carpeted floor.

  “What a day of hiking,” Velda said. “Haven’t walked that much in months.”

  Jimmy McLean opened the mini-fridge and pulled out a couple small bottles of booze. “Will you look at this? Irish whiskey but not a drop of single malt Scotch.”

  “Ah, pour it on some ice and call it good.”

  He threw her one of the bottles, which she caught with her tiny right hand.

  “Or we can drink it like this.” She cracked open the bottle and took down half, not affected by the surge of warmth.

  Jimmy McLean downed his bottle all in one stroke, letting out a hearty breath of air. “Just what the doctor ordered.” He threw the empty bottle into the garbage can and pulled up a chair near the bed.

  “Well, you gonna ask me?” she said.

  “Ask you what?”

  “If I slept with Gary.”

  With the exception of the last hour, he had directly monitored every conversation the two of them had made, but then they had gone into the little man’s hotel two blocks away and she had called McLean off for a while. He trusted her and knew she could handle herself.

  “What did you learn from him?” he asked, ignoring her baiting him into caring.

  “I didn’t,” she said. “But it wasn’t easy. He was all over me, like a fat girl on chocolate.”

  “But?”

  “He showed me that, too. Yet, why settle for a lizard when I can have a dinosaur?”

  “So now I’m old as a fossil?”

  “You know what I meant, Jimmy.”

  He didn’t want to go here. They had too much to consider. He knew something was going down, but he didn’t want it to be Velda. At least not right now.

  “Business, Velda.”

  She cocked her head to one side. “How about another drink first?”

  He went and got her another bottle and threw it to her.

  “Vodka,” she said. “Now that’s appropriate.” This time she sucked down the entire bottle in one shot and set her empty onto the nightstand.

  “What’d you find out?” he reiterated.

  “I found out Gary Dixon, besides being a randy dog, is in to something big. Bigger than he’s been involved in ever.”

  “He didn’t tell you what?”

  “No. He talked about a package. A box.”

  McLean had heard a little of that. “What do you think he meant by that?”

  “I don’t know. But it’s worth a lot of money to someone. Right, the vodka. Some guy showed up at Gary’s room. A Russian.”

  “A Russian? What did he want?”

  “Don’t know. They talked out in the hall. Gary came back more excited than normal.”

  “What the Russian look like?”

  “You mean, was he also a little person?”

  “Well, we didn’t get a photo of him, since I came to the room.”

  “I saw him, though. And I never forget a face.”

  That was true. Her memory for facial details was quite amazing. “All right. We’ll check on the computer and see what we can find.”

  “Hang onto your kilt, Jimmy. Gary Dixon has a dinner meeting with the man tonight. Maybe we should get a little rest before then.” She patted her hand onto the bed, raised her brows, and smiled at him.

  He knew it would come to this eventually. They had played around a little in the past—she placing his hand onto her breasts, and then the more recent encounter in the dark Edinburgh alley. The tension had been thick, and now he also felt the thickness in his pants. That’s what she wanted, then that’s what he’d give her—every centimeter.

  Pushing the chair to the side, he stood before her and slowly removed his pants and underwear. Standing before her in all his glory, her eyes got very wide.

  “Now that’s a T-Rex,” she said.

  Central Intelligence Agency Headquarters

  Langley, Virginia

  Kurt Jenkins sipped a cup of green tea as he read an intelligence briefing, a Russian area analyst standing in front of the director’s mahogany desk and a stunning brunette sitting back on the sofa, her slim legs crossed. Jenkins had gotten off the SAT phone with Jake Adams an hour ago, immediately asked his analysts for more information on the old Soviet virus development, and had been somewhat surprised they had come through for him so soon. It was only a two-page brief, but quite thorough and in-depth.

  The analyst, a man who looked like a computer geek right out of college, thick glasses and a bow tie, with a crumpled white shirt that looked like he had slept in it, alternated from one foot to the next like a stork. His dark eyes kept shifting to the side to catch a view of the pretty woman.

  “Are you sure the Soviets were actually developing a modified version of the nineteen-eighteen H1N1 influenza A virus back in the 80s?” Jenkins asked the young man and then sipped more tea.

  “Yes, sir.” The analyst pushed his glasses higher on his narrow nose. “And as far as we know, they still have the virus frozen at their research facility.”

  “But no indication they have ever had any breach of security or theft of the virus.”

  “No, sir. But. . .” His eyes drifted again toward the woman and then back to the director. “But we might never know for sure. As you know, the old Soviet Union collapsed around that time and security crumbled to a certain extent.”

  Jenkins didn’t need this young man telling him that, since he had spent much of his covert life cleaning up messes in the former East Bloc.

  “What about what Jake Adams mentioned,” Jenkins said, picking up the briefing for reference, “this guanidinium thiocyanate.” He struggled with the words and shook his head.

  The man nodded and adjusted his glasses nervously again. “Yes, sir. That would render the virus inactive, but our scientists would still be able to study it and come up with a way to battle any release, inadvertent or otherwise.” He cleared his throat.

  “So you recommend we use this. . .stuff. . .before transporting?”

  He nodded. “Yes, sir. Jake Adams was right on the mark with that.”

  “You know Jake Adams?”

  “No, sir. Just heard about him. His work with the Joint Strike Fighter, Kurdistan, the Dolomites, China, and his more recent work in Austria.”

  “Sounds like you’re a fan,” Jenkins said.

  The analyst smiled and nodded.

  “That’ll be all.”

  The man turned, checking out the woman as he did, and left the office.

  When he was gone, the brunette rose from the sofa and took a seat in a leather chair closer to the director. Toni Contardo had recently taken on a special projects role at the headquarters after working in the field in mostly Europe for the past couple decades. She was in her early forties, but could easily pass for thirty-five. Some would say she was in her prime as a field officer, having risen to station chief in Austria and Italy. But Jenkins asked her to take on this new position and she reluctantly accepted. After all, she had not even lived in America for nearly twenty years.

  “What do you think?” Jenkins asked Ton
i.

  “I think your analyst has more ticks than a Tennessee coon hound,” she said. “And he just might have a man crush on Jake.”

  “Are you jealous?” Jenkins knew all too well the history between Jake Adams and Toni Contardo.

  “I’m so over him.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Besides, isn’t he still shacking up with that Austrian Interpol whore?”

  Jenkins smiled. “But you’re not bitter.”

  “Can we get on with this? What kind of shit has Jake stepped in this time?”

  My God she was still beautiful. But all business with him. Too bad. “All right.” He briefed her on what Jake Adams had been up to from start to finish, leaving out nothing. When he was done, he waited and watched her carefully.

  “And Colonel Reed is not working for us?” Toni asked, a face of incredulity.

  “Not officially. We have not been able to reach him yet. But we have assets in the area looking for him. You know Reed, right?”

  “Yeah. But just by reputation. Jake talked about him. He had nothing but good things to say about Reed. Jake also mentioned the death of Steve Olson. But that happened before Jake joined the CIA and before we met. So it was always past tense. I knew they had been good friends, though. Jake would have gone off to the Arctic to bring back his body, or at least find out what happened to the man.”

  “How’d you know I was going to ask you that?”

  “How many years in the field? Besides, it’s the question I would have asked. Why would Jake take off to the Arctic on a whim? And, perhaps more importantly, was Jake and Colonel Reed into something they shouldn’t be into? You said the Interpol slut was with him?”

  “Let it go.”

  “No, I’m just thinking she wouldn’t have been involved in this if she didn’t think it was important. Is she sanctioned by Interpol?”

  “We haven’t verified that yet.”

  Toni leaned back in the chair, her dark eyes settling on the ceiling tiles.

  Jenkins had not been entirely sure he should have involved Toni with this, considering that she and Jake had been lovers for so many years—their relationship nearly highlighted in the agency manual as what not to do as covert officers. Yet, despite their relationship, it had never cost them a case. In fact, the two of them worked so well together, they might have to reconsider conventional wisdom on how close to get with colleagues.

  “What you thinking?” Jenkins asked her.

  She turned to him. “I’m thinking you haven’t told me everything about Jake.”

  He let out a heavy sigh and shook his head. “I could never keep anything from you.” He thought about if she needed to know this and decided she did. “Jake has gone through some rough times in the past three months. He’s been drinking too much and hasn’t taken on any new cases. Quite the mess.”

  She looked concerned. “I didn’t know.”

  “Well, he isolated himself after his sister died in a car accident.”

  Toni shifted forward in her chair. “Jake has a sister?”

  “Two sisters and a brother. How well do you know him?”

  Slumping back in the chair, she said, “Not as well as I thought. So his sister died three months ago?”

  “Four. It took his siblings a month to find him. By then his sister had been buried.”

  “Wow. He never mentioned any siblings. Anything else I should know? Parents? Children?”

  “He told you his parents also died in a car accident when he was in college?”

  “He told me that. He just left out the siblings.”

  “As you know, a lot of officers do that. Jake figured the siblings could be vulnerable if anyone knew about them. They could use them to get to him.”

  She lowered her head and shook acknowledgment. “Why do you need me?”

  “I need you to fly to Oslo with our scientists and a an Army team to secure the virus. They’ll inactivate the virus and bring it back to the Army lab.”

  “Why me?”

  Jenkins swiveled in his chair. “Because I don’t know for sure what Colonel Reed is up to, and I don’t want Jake deciding to turn this over to him instead. He trusts the colonel.”

  “And you think he’ll trust me more,” she said. “Because of our background.”

  Jenkins shrugged.

  “When do I leave.”

  “One hour.”

  “You know I just got married,” Toni said.

  He knew. “Three months ago. The honeymoon’s over.”

  She got up to leave but he stopped her with a wave of his hand. “Yeah.”

  “Make sure Jake knows he’ll be compensated for his efforts,” he said.

  She laughed. “You think Jake is motivated by money? He’d cut your balls off if he thought it would be good for the country. Money never concerned him.”

  With that, she left him, and he watched her every deliberate step and the shake of her hips. He saw what Jake had always known, and perhaps what had motivated him more than even national security. It was her security. An even better reason to send Toni to Norway.

  Jake’s drinking might have started with the revelation of his sister’s early death, but then probably accelerated once he realized he had lost two women in his life forever.

  13

  Norwegian Sea

  One Hundred Miles South of Svalbard

  The three of them had flown from their perch on the glacier due south to the town of Sveagruva, a Norwegian settlement of some two hundred people, where they topped off the fuel tank. While there, Jake had come up with a plan to bypass Longyearbyen, where he assumed they would have run into more trouble. He had made a few calls and Kjersti had done the same. Together they had found a direction.

  From Sveagruva they had flown out over the Arctic Ocean into the North Norwegian Sea, a huge leap of faith considering the four hundred mile distance from the Svalbard Archipelago to the Norwegian mainland, and were now running low on fuel. The winds had picked up and the cloud cover made it hard to see too far in the distance.

  Jake checked his watch and then his own hand-held GPS. He guessed the ship had to be just over the horizon. Had to be. They were searching for a ship. Not any ship—a particular ship. He was sitting in the second seat in the front and Anna was laying in the back, her stomach still upset by the rocking craft jumping about in the turbulence.

  “How much fuel left?” Jake asked Kjersti.

  “Ten minutes. Maybe less. Where the hell are they?”

  “Call in your Mayday,” Jake prompted. “We gotta be close enough.”

  Kjersti didn’t hesitate, calling an in-flight emergency, heading, and fuel situation. Almost immediately, she got a response in Norwegian, and Jake could only guess what was being said to her. Clicking off the headset, Kjersti adjusted their heading and elevation.

  “How far out?” Jake asked her.

  “They had changed directions slightly,” she said. “Should be coming into view. . .now.”

  Off on the horizon they could see the Norwegian Coast Guard patrol vessel KV Svalbard, the largest ship in Norway’s armed forces. Yet, even at 300 feet long, the ship seemed like a fishing boat as it cruised away from them. The large patrol icebreaker carried two helicopters.

  “They gonna clear the deck for you?” Jake asked.

  “One’s in the hangar,” she said. “And there’s the other one.”

  As they got closer, they could see a helicopter airborne trailing the ship to the port side.

  “Isn’t that an NH90?”

  “Yeah,” Kjersti said.

  They came alongside the large ship on the starboard side, slowing to the speed of the cutter. The ship had slowed somewhat to allow them to land.

  With expert precision, Kjersti slipped her craft to the right and dropped her down in the center of the helo pad. They waited while crewmen scrambled to chock and tie the helo to the flight deck, and then Kjersti cut power.

  “How much fuel we have left?” Jake asked her.
<
br />   “Fumes.”

  Suddenly their helo was surrounded by sailors with automatic weapons pointed at them.

  “This doesn’t look good,” Anna said from the back.

  Jake leaned into Kjersti. “We can’t let them search us. I hope like hell Norwegian Intel has some pull.”

  She smiled and pulled her credentials from a small backpack beside her seat. Then she got out onto the flight deck, her hands up with her ID pointed at someone who looked to be in charge. Rifles still pointed at her and the helo. The man went onto his radio and moments later a man appeared from the hangar bay door. An officer.

  “What’s going on, Jake?” Anna asked, moving from the back closer to him.

  “She’s explaining who she is. At least that’s my guess.” If she had wanted to, she could have simply told them the truth. Then they would all be quarantined until someone came and broke open the box, rendering the virus inactive. Maybe she was doing that. But Jake didn’t think so. He had a feeling she wasn’t that close with the military, and didn’t trust that her government had the proper expertise to handle this type of virus. She had said as much on their flight. He just hoped she wasn’t playing him.

  Moments later the coast guard officer handed her identification back to Kjersti and they were all smiles. He even had his hand on her shoulder as they both laughed. Then the officer ordered his men to stand down and he waved for the helo to be refueled.

  Kjersti and the officer came to the pilot’s door, opened it, and the officer leaned in, his hand extended. They shook and the man introduced himself as Commander Berg.

  “Nice to meet you,” Jake said. “And thanks for the drink. Didn’t think we’d make it.”