In the Arctic

by Art Collins

  “Tess, how many times have I told you not to talk with food in your mouth?” her mother scolded, shaking her head. Then she looked at her boys and added, “Well, I know I’m far too young to have kids that age.”

  “Wait a second, honey,” her husband said with a smile on his face. “There are definite benefits of having older boys around the house. For example, they can shovel the driveway and sidewalk tomorrow morning.”

  The conversation was cut short when the telephone rang. The moment her father got up to answer the phone, Tess blurted out, “I can’t believe that some people call at dinner time. That’s so rude.”

  After listening to whoever was on the other end of the line for a few moments, he turned to his family and said, “I’m going to finish this call on another phone.” Hearing that, Tess raised her chin and added curtly, “Well, at least Dad knows how to be polite.”

  When he returned to the dinner table a few minutes later, there wasn’t a trace of a smile on his face. Jockabeb’s jaw dropped when his father then asked somewhat testily, “Do either of you boys know a Special Agent named Quade from a government agency call the PSA?”

  Agent Quade

  “Yeah, Dad, he called here right after we got back from visiting Aunt Claire,” Archibald responded somewhat warily. Then wondering what on earth Quade could be calling about, he asked, “What did he want?”

  After his father said that it appeared that both his sons had quite a reputation inside the PSA, Archibald laughed and replied, “Okay, Dad, we probably should have told you he called, but we really didn’t think it was a big deal. If you really want to know the truth, we both thought it was kind of funny.”

  Even though the boys’ parents had heard all about what happened during that harrowing weekend in New York City, no mention was ever made of the PSA agents who had visited Sub-Station Zero, or that those agents mistakenly thought the Ratweil was an extraterrestrial.

  Jockabeb’s jaw dropped even further when his father said, “Well, you better finish your dinner quickly because Special Agent Quade was calling from a pay phone not fare away. He and another fella named Lynch are on their way over right now.”

  “With this huge storm brewing?” his wife exclaimed.

  The moment her husband answered, “Yes, and as you might guess, it involves your sons,” she gasped.

  An Official Request for Assistance

  “There’s one doozy of a storm coming in a few hours,” Special Agent Quade warned in a monotone voice as he passed through the doorway ten minutes later. After setting down his briefcase and removing a government ID from his wallet, he formally introduced himself and his partner, saying, “I’m Special Agent Josh Quade, and this is my associate, Mr. Lynch.

  “As I told you over the phone, I work for the Paranormal Surveillance Agency. Lynch isn’t part of PSA, but he does contract work for us from time to time. Do you mind if we take off our coats and talk for a while?”

  As their father led his two visitors into the living room, Archibald and Jockabeb both took a hard look at Quade. Surprisingly, he appeared just about as they’d imagined he would.

  Wearing a black suit, black tie, and white buttoned-down shirt, the six-foot tall PSA agent must have been about forty years old. Although he wore a suit, the boys could tell he was definitely fit, and his closely cropped haircut made them think he might have been in the military at some point. The deadpan features that defined his face weren’t remarkable in any particular way, other than his expression never seemed to change.

  With no preconceived notion of what Lynch would look like, both brothers were leery of what they saw. Lynch was about the same height as Quade, and his tight fitting black turtleneck sweater emphasized a heavily muscled physique. His shiny bald head, wide nose, and square jaw looked like they’d been chiseled out of tan-colored granite.

  The most defining feature on Lynch’s face was the jagged scar that began just under his right eye and ended at the corner of his mouth. The moment the boys saw the scar, they thought of Lucio, their departed Uncle Charlie’s good friend. While Lucio’s scar was about the same size and in the same location, Lynch’s seemed much more ominous.

  Mr. Lynch

  Walking into the living room behind Quade and Lynch, Jockabeb poked his brother and whispered in his ear, “That Lynch guy is one scary looking dude.”

  When everyone was seated, Special Agent Quade leaned forward and said, “I expect you’d like to know what’s so important that Lynch and I would come all the way from Langley, Virginia on a night when a blizzard’s moving in. Well, I’ll explain that in just a moment, but I first have to tell you that what I’m about to say is classified Top Secret. Also, all information that I’m about to divulge is on a strict need-to-know basis.”

  Turning to the boys’ parents he said, “You, your wife, and your sons are cleared to hear what I have to say. However, I am going to have to ask your daughter to leave the room.”

  When Tess threw up her hands and asked indignantly why she couldn’t stay, Quade responded, “The PSA just can’t take the chance that anything I’m about to say would ever get out. If it makes you feel any better, the subject I’ll discuss tonight is a matter of national security. And as we used to say in the Marine Corps, ‘loose lips sink ships.’ So, Tess, would you please leave the room for a little while?”

  “How’d you know my name?” Tess asked suspiciously, remembering that her name had never been mentioned when the two men arrived.

  When Quade answered, there wasn’t a trace of emotion in his voice. “We make it a point to know everything there is to know about friends of the Agency, and your two brothers are definitely our friends.”

  “Why can’t I be a friend of your agency?” Tess pressed petulantly. “I’m just as—”

  “Wait a second, Tess,” her father interrupted. “This is serious business. Special Agent Quade has every right to ask you to leave, so I want you to go to your room for a little while.” Knowing his daughter all too well, he added a warning, but with a smile. “Tess, your mother and I better not catch you eavesdropping. You got that, honey?”

  “Yes, I got that,” she answered crossly. “I heard what he said, but I still don’t know why I can’t stay. I’m a member of this family as much as anyone else!”

  Finally recognizing that this was an argument that she had no chance of winning, Tess finally relented, saying, “Okay, fine! You win.” Then she got up and stomped out the room, her head held high.

  Hearing her bedroom door slam shut, Special Agent Quade got down to what he called “brass tacks,” proceeding to explain why the PSA needed Archibald’s and Jockabeb’s help.

  The boys and their parents sat silently and listened to the details of a report that had been received at PSA headquarters in Langley, Virginia the day before. The report had come from a NASA scientist at Thule Air Base, located on the northwest side of Greenland, seven hundred and fifty miles north of the Arctic Circle. Shortly after the report arrived and was read by the PSA Director, the decision was made to form an emergency task force, or ETF, to deal with a “situation” that had developed near the North Pole.

  Tess

  The PSA had immediately contacted a sister agency, also headquartered in Langley, and requested that Lynch be assigned to the ETF. When it was decided that the ETF should also have several members who had previous personal contact with extraterrestrial beings, a number of files were analyzed. Four individuals were finally selected.

  Turning to the boys’ parents, Special Agent Quade made a formal request on behalf of PSA and the federal government. “I’m asking permission for your sons to join the ETF. If it makes a difference, the one-armed man and the girl who helped track down and destroy the alien mutant five months ago will also be members.”

  Archibald literally came out of his seat when heard Quade’s last statement. “You mean Meatloaf and Willow have already said yes?”

  “Yes,” Quade answered, “but only on the condition that you two agree to serv
e with them. The one-armed man initially didn’t want anything to do with our ETF, but the young girl talked him into it, which seemed a bit strange to me because she was so standoffish whenever we tried to talk to her before.”

  Jockabeb, who hadn’t said a word since the two men walked in the door, finally spoke up. “Yeah, I know why she did that. She wants to see my brother.”

  “Put a sock in it, Jockabeb,” Archibald snapped. Then he turned back to Quade and asked, “So exactly what does being on this task force really mean?”

  Special Agent Quade reached into his briefcase and pulled out an official looking form. Passing the form to the boys’ father, he said, “Your sons are obviously minors, so you and your wife will need to sign this release form. If you do, I’ll tell you what I can now. If you don’t, we’ll leave, and this visit never happened.”

  When the boys’ father asked Special Agent Quade what information could be divulged without a signed form, Quade replied, “First, the ETF’s mission will require an immediate trip to Thule Air Base. Second, Lynch, two Navy SEALs, and three PSA scientists will accompany your sons, the young girl, and the one-armed man on what we believe will be less than a weeklong trip. Third, although I won’t be along, I’ll be monitoring their progress. And, fourth, I can definitely guarantee their safety.

  “Listen, sir, we’ve done a deep background check on you and your family, and we know you’re an ex-Marine like me. We both love our country, and our country needs your sons’ help right now. While I can’t give you any of the classified details that your boys will be privy to if you sign the releases and let them serve on the ETF, I can tell you that the mission involves recent contact with what we believe to be an extraterrestrial.”

  Archibald thought the odds of him ever joining the ETF decreased markedly when his mother pressed Quade, asking, “Tell me again why you need my sons involved in any of this.”

  “Trust me on this, ma’am,” Quade replied. “If we didn’t need them, Lynch and I wouldn’t be here. The fact of the matter is that they, along with the one-armed man and the girl, are uniquely qualified for this mission. All four have successfully dealt with an alien creature. They’ve demonstrated their resourcefulness, and the four of them know and trust each other. Finally, the mainframe computer analysis we conducted back at Langley picked them out of the hundreds of files that were analyzed.”

  Then the boys’ mother asked the question that was foremost on her mind. “If my husband and I sign these forms and my sons agree to join your task force, how can you ensure their safety?”

  When Lynch spoke his first and only words that night, his steel-gray eyes didn’t blink. “That’s where the Navy SEALs and I come in. Trust me, ma’am, not one hair on the heads of your two boys will be harmed. On that you have my word.”

  “When would we have to leave?” Archibald asked in an anxious voice.

  Responding to the question he’d already anticipated, Quade replied, “Tonight. I have a driver outside who’ll take us to a plane waiting at a private airfield not far from here. If we leave in the next half hour, there shouldn’t be a problem getting airborne before the storm moves in. Too much beyond that, well, let’s just say that it could get dicey.

  “Don’t worry about packing. We have plenty of clothes at Langley. You’ll need special cold weather gear where you’re headed, which we’ll also supply. All I ask is that you and your parents make up your minds soon.”

  After Archibald and Jockabeb said they wanted to go, in fact pleaded with their parents to let them go, their mother and father got up and headed toward the kitchen, saying they wanted to confer in private before making a decision.

  When the boys’ parents returned five minutes later, their father said the words his sons had been hoping to hear. “Alright, my wife and I have talked it over, and we’ve agreed they can go.” Then looking Lynch square in the eyes, he added, “You and Special Agent Quade both asked us to trust you. Well, you better keep your word, mister. If you don’t, you should know that this ex-Marine is coming after you. You got that?”

  An almost imperceptible nod from Lynch signaled his understanding.

  Ten minutes later, Archibald and Jockabeb kissed their parents and sister good-bye before following Quade and Lynch out the front door.

  The Flight to Langley

  The boys’ third limousine ride of their lives was much, much shorter than the two previous ones they took while visiting Aunt Claire in Manhattan. Twenty minutes after leaving their home, the driver pulled his black Lincoln up to the side of a private plane that was parked on the tarmac.

  The plane’s two turboprop engines were running. The pilot looked a bit anxious when he gave a thumbs-up sign through the cockpit window. Seeing that the plane was ready to go, Quade announced, “Let’s get on board and in the air before that storm rolls in.”

  On the way to the airport, Lynch had been seated in front next the driver. The mean-looking man from the unnamed government agency hadn’t spoken a word since his one statement back at the house, and he didn’t break his streak of silence during the three-hour flight that followed.

  Once the boys were on the eight-passenger King Air propjet and had buckled their seat belts, they were each handed a thick manila envelope. The envelopes were sealed and stamped with red block letters spelling out the two words they’d heard earlier that evening: “TOP SECRET.”

  Standing slightly hunched over so his head wouldn’t hit the low ceiling, Quade issued his orders regarding the envelopes. “I want you to open these once we’re airborne. After you’ve signed the statements inside swearing that you’ll never divulge anything that happens during this mission, you will need to read and finish the briefing papers contained in your packets before we land at Langley. There’s some background information on the Arctic Circle and the North Pole, together with a brief description of Thule Air Base.

  “First thing tomorrow morning, you’ll get a formal briefing with the other members of the ETF. That’s when you’ll hear about what happened up in that frozen wasteland to warrant the actions we’re about to take. By the way, I understand your two friends from New York are being driven down to Langley as we speak.”

  As soon as Quade finished his last sentence, Jockabeb’s thoughts were drawn back to the night they’d hunted the Ratweil and how quickly Meatloaf had moved when he hurled his Bowie knife into Shabazz’s forehead. It was a good thing, too, because the gangbanger was just about to return the favor. Not surprisingly, Archibald’s thoughts were on another person being driven to Langley that night—the beautiful girl who’d saved his life and stolen his heart.

  Both brothers were jolted back to the present when the pilot shouted from the cockpit, “Quade, take your seat, we’re rolling.”

  Seconds later, the King Air began taxiing onto the runway for takeoff. It was a bumpy ascent as the small plane flew directly into the teeth of accelerating northeast winds and a mountain of snow-laden clouds that would soon shut down operations at the airport they’d just left.

  Seeing the worried expression on Jockabeb’s face as the propjet was buffeted by successive windblasts and rocked by a strong down draft, Quade leaned over and made a prediction. “My guess is that this will seem like a day at the beach compared to the weather you’ll experience at Thule.”

  “Thanks,” Jockabeb replied, shaking his head and hoping that Special Agent Quade’s forecasting of Arctic weather would be just as accurate as when he called the Ratweil an extraterrestrial.

  During the flight to Langley, the boys learned a lot about the desolate polar region at the northernmost part of the Earth. They were surprised to find out that the frozen tundra covering most of the Arctic was actually ice-covered ocean. When Jockabeb read that average winter temperatures dropped to around forty degrees below zero, he was glad that the PSA was supplying cold weather clothing because he didn’t own anything that could stand up to that kind of cold.

  After reading about the Arctic’s polar night in winter and midnight sun in
summer, Jockabeb kicked his brother’s foot and said, “Hey, it’s going to be dark the whole time we’re there.” Then he laughed and added, “That won’t bother your girlfriend since she sees pretty well in the dark.”

  “Lighten up with the girlfriend stuff.” Archibald snapped. “I’ve spent less than six hours with Willow, and I haven’t seen her in five months, so she can’t be my girlfriend.”

  Although the facts he’d just quoted were technically correct, Archibald silently hoped his conclusion was dead wrong. Either way, he’d find out the truth in a matter of hours.

  “Sorry, I didn’t know you were so sensitive about Willow,” Jockabeb apologized halfheartedly. Then, shifting the subject back to the Arctic, he asked, “Do you think we’ll see any polar bears?”

  “I don’t know,” Archibald answered. “These briefing papers say there are lots of other animals that live up there. Some are small like Arctic hares, ground squirrels, lemmings, and ermines, but others are pretty big. Look on page seventeen, there’s a really cool picture of a herd of musk-oxen.”

  Flipping a few pages forward, Jockabeb said, “Neat. Look at the picture of the caribou right below it. I read that those are just some of the animals that the roaming packs of wild wolves hunt.”

  The moment his brother mentioned wolves, Archibald’s thoughts were drawn back to the wolves around Camp Bear Claw. He remembered the story of how Champ had been attacked by a pack of wild wolves, and how a group of hunters would have left the mangled dog to die if Mr. McClusky hadn’t come to the rescue. Then thinking of Ghost Rider, the white wolf that had been with them when they’d finally destroyed the devil cat, he said, “Yeah, it would be really neat if we saw some wolves while we’re up there.”