by C. E. Martin
"And it came from a dragon."
"Why?" Javi asked.
"The idea," Dr. King said in his excited manner, "was to enable soldiers to operate in harsh environments without any of the physical side effects."
"What happened?" Josie asked.
Dr. Guerrera smiled. "It was too expensive, and difficult, to make more. And the protection didn't extend to equipment."
"Make more?" Javi didn't understand. "As in, there are more dragons?"
"Fountain of Youth," Josie said, all but adding a duh to her statement.
"Well, shall we begin?" Dr. King said, stepping away from Javi. He put his hands gently on Dr. Guerrera's shoulders and led her away.
"And this will keep me safe?"
Dr. Guerrera had a tablet out, watching the readouts from the sensors attached to the Mossad agent. "We never tested it in Antarctica. But it worked perfectly in arctic climates."
"Here," Dr. King said, taking the second wrist bracelet from Dr. Guerrera and then handing her a coat. "You shouldn't be wearing those things in your condition."
"Thank you." Dr. Guerrera slipped the coat on and nodding to Josie as she did so. "Go ahead."
Josie smiled evilly at Javi. "My pleasure."
Nothing happened.
"Looking good," Dr. King said, watching his own tablet computer.
Josie concentrated. Javi could taste the air she was inhaling—it was colder now.
"Any discomfort?" Dr. Guerrera asked.
"None."
Josie continued to glare at the agent, concentrating. Something fell from the air. Then another something. Specks—small and white.
"Is that snow?" Javi asked, surprised. The falling ice crystals were in great number now, dropping from the air all around her.
"Frost," Dr. King said, not looking up from his tablet. "Water vapor in the air freezing. Keep going, Josie."
Josie was squinting now, and her fists were balled at her sides. Javi thought she heard something and looked down. Ice was forming around her, radiating out on the surface of the floor, from under her feet.
A trickle of blood began to come from Josie's nose.
"Are you all right?" Javi asked.
Josie wiped the blood away and set her jaw, redoubling her effort.
Suddenly, the frost forming in the air stopped drifting down.
"Something's wrong..." Dr. King said.
A brilliant orange ball appeared before Josie, several feet across, racing toward Javi. The Mossad agent ducked, throwing her hands up to protect herself. The flaming orb passed over her like a breeze, rustling her hair. It splashed against the cold wall behind her, sizzling and dissipating.
Josie exhaled, not realizing she had been holding her breath. She grabbed onto Dr. Guerrera's coat to steady herself.
"Absolutely amazing! " Dr. King exclaimed.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
It was past sunset when the team arrived at the south eastern corner of Homestead Air Force Base. Colonel Kenslir, Javi Wallach, Josie, Jimmy and Laura Olson all rode together in a single van, all dressed in multicam, with assault vests and large duffel bags of gear.
The van pulled up to a set of hangars where a black B-1 bomber sat, being prepared for takeoff.
"Is that our ride?" Wallach asked. "I thought they only seated four."
"Forward bay has a crew module," Jimmy said, reaching past Wallach to grab two duffel bags from the van. Josie and the Colonel were already headed for the supersonic, sweep-winger bomber, its crew standing by the front nose gear.
"Crew module?" Javi thought back to what she knew about the aircraft. A cold War-era, supersonic bomber with three bomb bays, capable of low altitude penetration of enemy airspace or high altitude, precision bombing. But she didn't remember anything about a crew module.
"Relax, dear, it's like riding in a bus," Dr. Olson said smiling. She had her hair back in a thick ponytail, her tactical glasses hanging on the front of her vest. Like Jimmy, she grabbed two bags of equipment from the van then hurried to catch up to the Colonel and Josie.
"Sir!" a female pilot by the bomber said, saluting as the Colonel approached. She and three other officers were standing by to receive the team. Her rank tabs revealed her to be a Major and her name tape read KARR.
"Major," Kenslir said, returning a salute. He nodded to the remainder of the crew and handed a small packet over to the Major. "Are we ready for takeoff?"
"Yes, sir," Karr answered tucking the packet under one arm. "I'm eager to put this one through its paces."
"Sorry, Major, simple air drop on this one," Kenslir said. "But we will be refueling in the air."
"Yes, sir!"
Laura Olson walked up looking the plane over. "Looks like the last one. I thought this was a new one?"
Karr smiled politely to the vampire. "Welcome back, Doctor."
"Hey," Laura said. "I hope this flight goes smoother than the last one."
"Yes, Ma'am."
Javi had finally made it over, struggling with the two large duffel bags she had been assigned. She noticed that the plane was configured for a single forward bomb bay, the removable bulkhead between the forward two bomb bays removed—something normally meaning large ordinance. But instead of long missiles on a carousel launcher, she saw a ramp extending down out of the bay.
"Need some help with that, ma'am?" one of the crew, Captain Bradford, asked, reaching for one of the heavy duffels Javi carried.
"I can manage," she said, walking around the Captain. Jimmy was already headed up the narrow ramp into the plane.
Javi followed him up, noting the ramp was barely five feet wide. Once she was on it, she realized how steep it was, angling up into the aircraft. Sure enough the bomb bay had been fitted with a single, large module that filled the large bay.
Javi marched up the ramp, nearly dragging her duffels until she finally reached the level deck of the crew module.
The module was almost teardrop-shaped, narrow from floor level up to about two-and-a-half feet, then widening. The ceiling was curved and low—with about the same headroom as a van.
"Pick a seat," Jimmy said. He was already in one of the many large, leather seats that ran down the left-hand side of the plane. The right was an empty aisle, with cargo nets along the starboard wall, holding equipment cases and the team's duffel bags.
"This is it?" Javi asked, surprised. The interior of the plane couldn't be more than six feet across. She'd been in helicopters with more room.
"Hey, c'mon," Laura Olson said behind her on the long ramp. "Some of us would like to sit down."
Javi nodded and picked the seat closest to the end of the ramp. It, like all the others, was swiveled around to face the rear of the plane and looked more like a large recliner than something she expected to see on an airplane.
"How long is this flight going to be?" Javi asked as she struggled to stow her duffels into the cargo nets along the starboard wall of the crew module.
"Ten hours," the Colonel said, coming up the ramp behind Josie. He had to duck inside the small confines of the crew compartment. "And you're up front with Josie."
Javi frowned but stood, waiting for Josie to pass her. At the forward bulkhead, Josie opened a small hatch set three feet off the deck. A ladder was mounted below the hatch, up which Josie easily climbed and ducked through the hatch. On either side of the opening, two folding seats rested against the back of the bulkhead, facing toward the rear of the plane.
"C'mon," Josie said, reaching back out of the hatch.
Javi ignored the hand and turned to give the Colonel a questioning look. "I thought these were four seaters?"
"This is a new model," Kenslir said. "Modern avionics take up less space, so we have two extra crew seats. Since you and Winters aren't as durable as us, you'll ride up front."
"Uh, ten hours is a long time," Javi said. "Where do we, you know..."
"Potty?" Laura Olson asked, grinning mischievously. She was in the second seat from the front of module. She looked
up from a magazine and pointed to the rear of the plane. "Chemical toilet."
At the back bulkhead, hanging over the open space where the ramp would serve as a floor when raised, there was what looked like a sink and toilet.
Javi gave her a shocked look.
"Don't worry, the boys won't peek."
"Everyone get buckled in," the Colonel said. He moved to a control box on the wall of the module and turned a lever. Hydraulics in the plane came to life and the long ramp began to slowly cycle up.
***
The two extra seats in the front of the plane were standard ejector seats, the same as the rest of the crew had. Javi felt a lot less comfortable in them than the oversized recliners in the crew module, especially once she was strapped in. There were no windows anywhere near her, making the seating position a bit claustrophobic.
A large touchscreen panel was mounted on the bulkhead in front of her. At least it would give her something to do on the long flight.
"All buckled up?" Josie asked. She'd just crawled through the very narrow passage leading from the two seats, through the avionics bay to the hatch leading into the cockpit.
"Fine," Javi said. She rubbed at her wrist and the dragon-leather bracelet she was wearing.
"Once we're in the air, we'll get the all clear to move around," Josie said. "I know it's not that easy, but you can come and go as you please to the rear module or if you want to go up front to the cockpit. There's a hatch sealing us off from the cockpit, and the one we crawled through. Only one can be open in flight at a time."
"Why would I want to go back there?" Javi asked.
"Well, it's not much more room, but you can walk around, stretch your legs."
"I think I'll stay here."
"Suit yourself," Josie said, sitting in her own ejector seat on the starboard side and buckling in. She slipped on a set of headphones with a boom mike and thumbed a switch on the panel under her own bulkhead-mounted display. "All clear for takeoff."
Javi could feel the engines of the plane rumble to life. The touch screen panel in front of her flickered on, revealing a forward-looking view, past the nose of the plane.
"You can change the view," Josie said, reaching over, across the narrow aisle between the seats, just barely able to touch the large screen. A menu appeared along the bottom. "All the important stuff is password protected, though."
She pointed to a small panel with toggles and switches under the screen. "These are for in-flight communications. You can talk to the flight crew, me, or the passenger module."
Javi nodded and pulled down her own pair of headphones hung on the wall beside her. She switched the toggles to listen to REAR JUMPSEATS so she could hear Josie—not that she really felt like talking.
The plane began to roll forward now, slowly. It steered out onto a taxiway building speed as it moved to the main runway. Once there, the plane turned, the pilot lining up for takeoff. The engines increased in pitch, sending vibrations through the whole airframe.
"This is a lot of fun," Josie said into the boom mike on her headset.
Their wait wasn't very long, then the plane finally lurched forward, shooting quickly down the runway. Javi tapped an icon on her screen and the same headup display a pilot would see came into view, displaying a pitch indicator, airspeed and altimeter, superimposed over the forward camera view.
The runway and the lights on either side of it rapidly became a blur, then the nose of the plane slowly lifted. Javi could feel the rear wheels lift clear, then the huge supersonic bomber was in the air.
"Wake me when we get there," she said, muting her headset then leaning back as best she could and closed her eyes.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The blood was warm and sticky as it ran down his throat. Even after all these decades it still tasted good. Bernhart chewed and swallowed the meat in his mouth, then once more sank his teeth into the carcass of the Emperor Penguin and tore out another chunk of its flesh.
The überwolf looked around as he ate, surprised at his own nervousness. He was the apex predator on this continent—on any continent. Nothing would dare try and come between him and his kills. The ten dead penguins stuffed into the large net beside him were safe. So why then was he nervous?
Florida was a long way from Antarctica. There was no way the Americans could find him here. Bernhart briefly wondered if hunting down those that had killed so many of the Reich's sons had really been such a good idea.
Bernhart growled as he ate. He shook the doubt from his wolf-shaped head. It had been a good plan. They had gotten revenge and tested themselves and the machine. There had been no way of knowing the Americans would have anything able to stand against them.
The überwolf finished off the last of his meal—he always preferred eating it fresh, on the ice, right after making a kill. He stood slowly, stretching his enormous legs. The cold wind coming off the glacier ruffled his fur. If he were in his human form he might shiver from the sub-zero windchill. As it was, the cold felt good, reminding him he was alive.
Bernhart grabbed at the large net of dead penguins and tossed it over his shoulder. Hunting always helped him clear his head. It was his particular area of expertise. Science, tactics—none of the other studies he'd had over the years had resonated with him as much as the thrill of the hunt. Not that hunting penguins was all that difficult.
The enormous creature glanced around at the glacier one more time. It was an instinct he couldn't shake. Despite his victory in Miami, he still gave in to a feeling of self-preservation and caution.
He loped across the ice, huge, clawed feet easily carrying him across the slippery surface. He preferred running on all fours, but with his large load he had to gallop along on his feet like a man.
In a short time, he finally reached the edge of the glacier, where the ice pushed against a low ridge. Carved into the side of the ridge was the hatch. The large metal panel, set with the seal of the Circle was damp. The wind must have carried a light covering of ice crystals over it, melting against the warm metal.
Bernhart set his load down and lifted the huge hatch, swinging it open. He reached for his kills and hesitated. Something had caught his eye. The werewolf tilted his head, eyes narrowing as he looked up.
He was sure he had seen something. But the Antarctic sky was as pale and blue as it always was. Not even the birds came to this part of the glacier. The only thing he ever saw in that sky were the occasional aircraft of the scientists and few residents of the vast, icy continent passing overhead—oblivious to the large, subterranean complex Bernhart called home.
The werewolf shrugged, picked up his kills and hurried through the hatch, closing it behind him.
A thousand feet above the glacier, headed, north, the Ghost Walker code-named Forest was moving at top speed, away from the überwolf. He had almost been detected by the creature, but his incredible speed had taken him away before the creature could focus on him.
When he reached the coast of the Antarctic continent, he stopped and hovered in place. He once more got his bearings, sighting distant mountain peaks.
Satisfied his handler had seen the peaks, Forest turned and headed home, covering the more than eight thousand miles in a heartbeat.
Seconds later, he was back in his own body, eyes opening slowly.
"Drink," Gloria said beside him, holding a straw to his lips. Forest sipped water through the straw and sat up slowly. This had been one of his longest searches yet. His body felt weak.
"Did we get it?" he asked.
Gloria smiled, picking up her sketchpad from a table beside her. She showed Forest her sketches of the mountain ranges he'd sighted during his search. As always, they were like photographs—exactly as he remembered them.
"I think we can triangulate from these."
***
Javi didn't particularly like being around the others, but the Colonel had insisted on it. So now she was in one of the swiveling, recliner-like chairs in the back of the bomber, eating and listenin
g to yet another briefing.
"-which puts the base here, right on the glacier," Colonel Kenslir said, pointing to a spot in the air at his shoulder level. He was standing by the starboard side of the passenger module, Jimmy, Josie, Laura and Javi in their chairs, turned sideways to watch him while they ate.
"Queen Maude?" Laura Olson asked. "Wasn't she one of the Golden Girls?"
Kenslir frowned and continued with his briefing. "Our Ghost Walker indicated a small opening, adjacent to the glacier. We're retasking a satellite to the region, but we may be on the ground before it's in position."
"This is on the glacier?" Josie asked. She, like everyone except Javi, had on the tactical glasses the team seemed to always wear. The glowing lights in the lenses of the glasses showed she was using the virtual reality functions as she listened to the briefing.
Javi finished her last bite of sandwich and slipped her own glasses on, connecting the data cable from a pocket of her assault vest. Displays immediately sprang to life, hanging in the air, in her field of view. As she turned her head to the left and right, the displays stayed in place, on either side of the Colonel. They all were of Antarctica—maps and aerial photos of the region.
"That's a little far inland for a submarine base, isn't it?" Javi asked.
"They say the Germans discovered a canyon stretching from one side of Antarctica to the other, under the ice," Jimmy said. "Allowing them to sail their U-boats all the way across."
"Who says?" Javi asked.
"The internet," Laura Olson answered. "Jimmy is our resident expert on conspiracy theories."
Jimmy frowned, but the Colonel interrupted before he could say anything.
"Radar imaging of the continent has shown the coastline to be filled with canyons, fjords and valleys—not stretching across the content, but some penetrating several hundred miles inland."
"So they could have sailed in, under the ice?" Josie asked, surprised.
"It's theoretically possible. And a good explanation for why Highjump didn't find the base—they were searching the coastline for submarine pens."
