by Ethan Jones
“Five shots and you’re out?” Justin said.
“Five’s the limit if you want me to remember names and facts. Anything on top of that and I won’t remember my own name. Good night.”
Justin looked over at Anna. Kiawak’s steps creaked on the wooden staircase.
“Are you going to bed soon?” Justin asked Anna.
“Not that soon. What do you think of this guy, Nuqatlak?”
“He’s not the focus of our mission, unless he’s bringing in weapons from Russia, if we’re to trust Alisha’s hunch. But we asked Kiawak to find anything suspicious, and this increase in Nuqatlak’s business is definitely worth a second look. We’re on our way to Grise Fiord anyway, so tomorrow we’ll have a chat with this guy. Before we do that, I’ll see if the CIS has any files on him.”
“Oh, now that I remember, I was thinking about what you said earlier, the discrepancies in the CSE report.”
“Yes. What about it?”
“I was wondering about the odds of these ‘coincidences.’ The bad weather and the computer failure happened at the same time these two ghost ships turned into our waters.” Anna leaned forward, resting her chin on her fists.
“Murphy’s Law?” Justin said with a grin. “If anything can go wrong, it will.”
“I know that, but these seem to work in favor of the ships. I can’t help but think of the movie scene when the security cameras stop working just as the bad guys break into a bank.”
“You think someone is trying to screw up our satellite defenses so these ships go undetected? That’s a bold claim. If Alisha were here, I would have to break up a fight.”
Anna drew her lips together, closed her eyes, and gave Justin a big headshake. “Oh, gosh.” She sighed before looking up. “Don’t even get me started. I can’t believe you can stay so calm when even her presence angers me.”
“Why does she bother you?”
“She’s so difficult to work with and stuck in her old, strict ways.”
“How so?”
“Well, she’s so bloody arrogant and patronizing, like she already knows all the answers before even asking the questions. And for some unexplained reason, everything is somehow connected to those Russians she’s so mad about.”
“That happens to everyone. You work in a certain field and to you, everything is related to that. Since it’s so important to you, it becomes your obsession. It grows and tries to take over your life. You see Russians everywhere and their influence in anything, as if they were, well, pretty much omnipresent.”
Anna peered deep into Justin’s eyes. “You talk from experience, I presume.”
Justin hesitated a brief moment. “Yeah, I guess so, to some extent. But really, Alisha has no life outside her work. She’s not married, has no kids, not even a pet.”
“What the hell? How do you know that?”
“Professional hazard, maybe. But she has a great reputation at her work and a striking record. So we’ll get this job done and leave all this behind us.”
Anna nodded and covered a yawn.
“Hopefully,” Justin said, “we’ll cover more ground tomorrow when Carrie flies us in the chopper. Now we should try to get some rest.”
“No, I’m still buzzed from the coffee. And I’ve got the munchies. Hmmm, I’m in the mood for something sweet.”
“I’ll get you some dessert.” Justin stood up. “Strawberry shortcake? I think I saw some in one of the fridges. I’m sure the barman wouldn’t mind if we dipped our fingers in the pie, as long as we pay for it.”
“Sure.” Anna smiled. “Why did you notice the shortcake? Is that your favorite dessert?”
Justin hesitated.
“Well… yes. No. It… it used to be.” He struggled for the right words, the fatigue of the late hour and the fond memories visible in his flinching eyes. “It’s actually Carrie’s favorite dessert.”
“And you served it to her as a midnight snack on your dates?” Anna dared to ask.
Justin did not answer. He walked behind the bar counter, although the fridge was on the other side. Anna stalked him, apparently determined to get an answer.
“It was a long time ago,” Justin conceded after a long pause, leaning over the fridge. He dug out two plastic boxes and placed them on the counter. “We’re still good friends.”
Anna took a fork from a drawer underneath the counter and handed it Justin.
“Since you opened this door,” Justin asked, “care to tell me about your midnight dates?”
Anna blushed and smiled.
“I haven’t had any midnight dates for a while,” she said with a sense of anticipation in her voice. She took a brief pause as if rethinking the rest of her reply. “Until now,” she added under her breath. Her last two words were loud enough for Justin to hear, but soft enough for a quick denial.
Justin read between the lines. I’ve promised myself not to fall for someone I work with. Besides, it’s not the right time. He pretended he missed Anna’s not-so-subtle hint.
Anna shrugged and dug into her dessert. “Hmmm, this is so good,” she said in a long moan. “Thank you so much.”
“Oh, you’re welcome.”
“Justin, what made you wanna do this?”
“You said you were hungry.”
“No, silly. I mean this job. Being a secret agent.”
“In preschool, when playing hide and seek, I was very good at finding the other kids.”
“Ha! Very funny. In that case you should have been a PI.”
“This job is much more fun. What made you want to impress a jury?”
“I don’t do litigation. Our section does research, analysis, and gives legal advice. I’m usually locked in the office for eight hours straight. On the rare occasions when I’ve seen the inside of a courtroom, it has been from a spectator’s seat or the witness stand.”
Justin nodded and licked his fork.
“But, you’re right in a sense,” Anna said. “I do want to impress someone. My father.”
“What does he do?”
“He used to be a judge, for the Court of Queen’s Bench, until he retired last year.”
“Health problems?”
“Yes. How did you know that?”
“A simple guess.” He shrugged. “That just happened to be right. Well, I have kind of a bit of insight, since I know a few people here and there, who can access certain databases—”
“No, you didn’t?” She threatened him with a fork full of whipped cream. “You ran a background check on me?”
“Guilty as charged, your honor.”
“You won’t be smiling when I’m finished with you.” Anna placed her box and fork on the counter, but Justin had already darted for the stairs.
“Don’t forget to clean up,” he said, keeping his voice as low as possible.
“Tomorrow, you’ll pay for this, Justin Hall.” Anna stabbed his image with her fork, but Justin noticed a joyful glint in her eyes. “And I’m not talking about the cake.”
“Good night, Anna. Sleep well.”
“Good night, Justin.”
* * *
As he climbed up the stairs, Justin failed to notice a small shadow creeping next to the fire exit door, at the far end of the hall on the second floor: Alisha hiding in the dark. She had been eavesdropping on their entire conversation.
“Arrogant? Difficult to work with? Patronizing? Somebody’s life is going to get extremely difficult, Justin. And I promise you won’t even see it coming,” Alisha mumbled as she tiptoed toward her room.
Chapter Five
Grise Fiord, Canada
April 12, 8:15 a.m.
“Neither Nuqatlak, nor Levinia, his longtime girlfriend, used their cellphones during the night or this morning.” Justin handed Kiawak a printout, while whispering on his microphone. Aboard the Eurocopter NH90, the communication set earphones cancelled the constant rattle of the helicopter’s engine. “So, even though we bugged their phones, there’s no new intel.”
; Kiawak, sitting behind Justin on the second row of seats, glanced at the chart, full of rows of phone numbers, the time of the calls and their length, all from days ago. He shrugged, and passed it to Alisha, who sat across from him and next to Anna.
“We’ll be on the ground in five,” Carrie said and dropped the helicopter about ten feet.
None of the passengers were surprised by the stomach-twirling fall. The ride from Pond Inlet had been bumpier than if they drove a pickup truck without shock absorbers. But the helicopter had allowed the team to cross the two hundred and seventy miles separating the two towns in a little more than ninety minutes.
“Let’s hope he’s still there,” she added.
“Well, the office confirmed Grise Fiord has been Nuqatlak’s official address for the last three years,” Justin replied.
“You’ve got a problem right there,” Carrie said. “Official. Like his official job, which is a trucker.”
“Well, his files at the CIS and the RCMP were pretty thin, so that’s all we’ve got,” Justin said. “If he’s not there, we’ll comb the town for clues.”
Alisha analyzed the phone records Kiawak had passed her. “Who’s Job?” she asked.
“Levinia’s brother, I assume,” Anna replied. She titled her head but could barely read the printout. Alisha was holding it close to her face. “They’ve got the same last name. He’ll be our next stop, if a search of Nuqatlak’s home turns up nothing.”
Carrie tapped the helicopter’s controls and the aircraft veered to the left. They had just crossed Jones Sound separating Ellesmere Island from Devon Island during the short summers but joining them with a thick ice cap the rest of the year. The ice floes, which had just started to melt, resembled large pieces of shattered glass. At the shore, the small houses of Grise Fiord came into view. Carrie gained some altitude, in order to climb over a series of cliffs over the town about five-hundred feet high.
“This should muffle the chopper’s noise and give us the advantage of surprise,” Carrie explained. “By the time they notice us dropping over the town, hopefully it will be too late.”
She stared at the frozen plains and chose a suitable place for landing: a solid ice field, clear of ice boulders and with no visible, large cracks. She brought the helicopter down without any problems.
Justin and Kiawak jumped out of the helicopter only moments later.
“Here we go again in the cold,” Anna whined in protest as she zipped her jacket and put on her gloves.
* * *
Anna had just set foot on the ground when a black snowmobile jumped over a tall snowbank and landed with a loud thud on one of the narrow trails leading outside the town. The vehicle coughed out a cloud of gray smoke and sprayed a storm of ice shreds from its rear. The driver headed south, toward Jones Sound. A second rider hung tight onto the driver as the sled bounced over the ice bumps of the trail.
“Who’s that?” Anna asked.
“That’s our target,” Carrie replied.
Justin and Kiawak were running toward the town, in the opposite direction of the fleeing snowmobile. Knowing they would never be able to catch up to Nuqatlak and his accomplice on foot, Kiawak knocked on the door of the closest house. Justin stood by a Mazda truck parked on the driveway.
“What do we do?” Alisha asked.
“Can’t follow them in the chopper,” Carrie replied. “If they’re armed and fire at us, a damaged chopper means the end of our mission.”
“So, we’re just going to stay here?” Alisha asked with an accusatory frown.
“No. Follow me.” Carrie pushed the helicopter’s door shut and gestured toward another house. “We’ll go after them.”
“Who tipped him off?” Anna asked, trying to keep up with Carrie, who began running. Alisha had already fallen behind, struggling with the slippery ice sheet covering the trail.
“Maybe one of Kiawak’s buddies. But then, people caught up in these kinds of deals keep an ear to the ground at all times and live in constant fear. I mean, look, this guy bolted out of his home as soon as he heard the chopper.”
Before Carrie could knock on someone’s door, Kiawak tossed the Mazda truck keys at Justin. In an instant, they began their chase after the snowmobile. Carrie knocked again and the door opened.
“We need your snowmobile,” she demanded from the sleepy-eyed man at the door. “I’m with the Rangers.”
* * *
“Left! Turn left!” Anna screamed into Carrie’s ear as she clung to her waist.
Carrie turned the handlebar to avoid crashing the nose of the snowmobile into an ice hill. They were airborne for a couple of seconds.
“I saw the damn thing too,” Carrie yelled back. The snowmobile responded to gravity’s call and landed on the packed snow.
“Sorry.” Anna took a deep breath, loosening her grasp around Carrie, even though they were going faster. “It just seemed too close.”
Justin and Kiawak had given up their chase. Nuqatlak was riding over the coastline. The ice was too thin to withstand the weight of a truck. It was dangerous even for the snowmobile, but Nuqatlak was apparently determined to avoid capture at all costs.
“Where are they going?” Carrie asked. “It looks like they’re headed for the water.”
Nuqatlak and the woman — Carrie was sure the passenger was female, since at one point they were so close her silhouette was very clear — were doing more than fifty miles per hour, extremely dangerous for the fragile terrain. Carrie and Anna were falling behind, but they were riding over a slope, at a higher level than the fugitives. They could see much farther away in the distance than Nuqatlak. The zigzagging trail of his snowmobile dodged crevasses, leads, and heaps of packed ice. Nuqatlak kept going toward Jones Sound where the melting ice floes filled the waters.
“Can’t they see the water?” Anna asked.
“I don’t think so.”
“Let’s tell the morons. We can’t interrogate the dead.”
Carrie eased on the throttle.
“Why are we slowing down?” Anna asked. “We need to catch up to them.”
“I’m not sure we’re riding over the ice sheet on the ground or over floating ice.”
“What? But, in that case…”
“Yeah. We may go through the ice.”
The open water leads, formed wherever sections of ice floes pulled apart because of ice shifting, confirmed their fear. The fugitives and their pursuers were both riding over a thin layer of ice. Ice hills had become less frequent, another sign of the dangerous conditions in the area. At some point, Nuqatlak must have clued into the fact that the ice might become too thin very soon. He eased back on his throttle lever and made a sharp U-turn. The snowmobile lost traction for a couple of seconds, skidded over the ice sheet, and crashed into a low snowbank. The woman almost fell off her seat.
“They’re trapped,” Carrie shouted. “Maybe we can get to them now.”
Her hope was short-lived, as Nuqatlak’s snowmobile pulled away from the snowbank and barreled toward Carrie and Anna. Carrie avoided a head-on collision by sliding to the left at the last possible moment. As the fugitives passed them, she noticed a sawed-off shotgun hanging on the side of the snowmobile.
“They’re armed,” Carrie said.
“Let’s hope they don’t start shooting.”
Carrie had just turned around when Nuqatlak’s snowmobile jerked to the right. The woman raised her shotgun.
“Shit,” Anna shouted.
Carrie gripped the throttle lever. The snowmobile jumped forward, landing behind an ice hill. Lead pellets poured from the woman’s shotgun and struck the brittle shield. Sharp ice slivers showered Carrie and Anna.
“The bastards are shooting at us.” Anna squinted in horror as shreds of ice crackled against her helmet.
“Here.” Carrie reached inside her jacket for the Browning 9mm in her waistband holster. “You know how to use this?”
“Yes, I do.” Anna cocked the gun. “Grandpa used to take me to the ran
ge.”
Carrie took a quick peek. The attack had given the fugitives a big advantage. She resumed the chase. Soon, Carrie and Anna were gaining on their target. Nuqatlak attempted a climb over a small ridge. The woman with him looked behind and raised her shotgun. Before she could point it at them, Anna pulled her pistol’s trigger twice.
She missed both times.
“Shoot the bastards,” Carrie encouraged her.
The snowmobile was almost over the ridge when Anna made her grandfather proud. She drove her third bullet into the woman’s right shoulder. The woman was able to hold on to Nuqatlak, at least for a short time, and then she tipped to the left. The snowmobile dragged her until she brushed against an ice boulder and fell off.
Nuqatlak now flew over the ice floes even faster than before. He dodged a small crevasse by shifting the weight of his body to the right to avoid slamming into a heap of ice chunks. The left ski of the snowmobile lifted off the ground and shredded the sheet of powder covering the ice. Nuqatlak leaned to the other side and avoided tipping over. He looked over his shoulder. Perhaps because he noticed his pursuers were closing in, he pulled a small pistol from one of his jacket pockets. He continued riding in a crisscross pattern, struggling to control his snowmobile with his left hand, while trying to point the pistol with his right hand at Carrie and Anna, who were now less than one hundred feet behind.
Anna leveled her pistol at Nuqatlak’s shoulders. She moved the sight of the gun a fraction of an inch, aiming for his right arm, before firing two successive shots. The first one missed. The second found its target. Nuqatlak leaned forward, very slightly, as if hitting an unexpected bump on the trail. Suddenly, he took a plunge along with his snowmobile. He rolled over the ice, his head slamming hard on a couple of boulders, as he went through a couple of three hundred and sixty-degree spins. Finally, he lay flat on his back a short distance away. Red traces of blood marked his path.
“That was great, Anna.” Carrie stopped their snowmobile beside Nuqatlak.
His chest was barely rising, and his neck was twisted unnaturally to the left.
“Is he… is he still alive?” Anna whispered in a shaky voice.
