Arctic Wargame jh-1

by Ethan Jones

  “You know what,” Justin said, “I don’t think I can trust you. Unless you give me some facts: names, numbers, places, you’ll keep wearing those handcuffs.”

  Magnus grinned and kept staring ahead. “Tell the Americans I prefer to fly business.”

  “Oh, no.” Justin shook his head. “You’re not going to the Americans. I’ll take you to one of our secret locations. Once we’ve arranged for your return back to Denmark, I’ll take you back to Copenhagen. Always wanted to see the Round Tower and the Latin Quarter.” He should start to feel trapped, now. I need to keep him worried and in panic, so that he’ll see the need to bargain with me. He doesn’t want to go back to Denmark.

  “You’re bluffing,” Magnus said, but without conviction. “You need me, so you can learn what we’re up to, our next moves, our future plans.”

  “Is Kronborg open at this time of year? You know, Anna,” Justin said and looked over at her, “Kronborg is a fascinating castle, right on the shore of this place… hmmm, I don’t remember its name…”

  “Helsingør,” Magnus offered with an uneasy smirk.

  “Yes, exactly. On a clear day, from atop the castle one can see all the way across the waters to Sweden. In one of the castle halls they have this statue of one of their great heroes…” Justin gestured at Magnus with his head for the name he was looking for.

  “Holger Danske.”

  “Yes, that one. According to the legend, his marble statue will turn into a human being, flesh and blood, if Denmark is ever in danger, and it will rise to fight for the country’s freedom.” Justin stared into Magnus’s eyes. “I wonder what would Holger Danske do if Denmark was the aggressor toward another country that is an ally and a friend?”

  Magnus closed his eyes and shook his head. “I thought you were going somewhere there, you had a point or something,” he said, his eyes still shut.

  “I have a point, which is I will enjoy Copenhagen’s best, while you, well, I’m sure your authorities will decide on how best to handle you.”

  “You think they’re going to kill me, do you?”

  “Oh, no, I think they’ll give you a promotion. Maybe they’ll give you the position of this Gunter character. You seem to know or at least pretend to know all about the Arctic Wargame mission. I wouldn’t want you to be unhappy and go around blurting out secrets to who knows whom. I would make sure you remained silent. For good.”

  Magnus opened his eyes and stared at Justin. He seemed unsure whether Justin was being sarcastic or not. Magnus looked left and right, as if he were waiting for the right moment to make a run for it. But his face was calm, his breathing regular, and his overall composure quite relaxed.

  “And who knows,” Anna said with a head tilt and a slight shrug, “maybe we’ll have better luck with Valgerda.”

  “Oh, you want to talk to her?”

  “Yes, now that you have placed all the blame on her in order to save yourself, of course we’re going to interrogate her.”

  “I haven’t said… oh, I see, you’re trying to play us against each other,” Magnus said in a mocking tone. “She’s not going to take the bait.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Justin said with a confident nod.

  Joe’s cellphone rang. He glanced at the screen, checking the caller ID. “It’s Ned,” he said, handing the phone to Justin.

  “Hi, Ned, what’s up?” Justin said.

  “Not much, just cleaning up the terminal. Listen, we’ve finally got through to someone from the Canadian Forces. They’ve dispatched a couple of Cormorant helos to check things out here, after military officials from the US and Denmark began asking all kinds of embarrassing questions.”

  Justin pressed the cellphone to his ear, so Magnus and the other passengers could hear only his side of the conversation. Ned’s unexpected call had given him an idea.

  “Who’s aboard the helos? I mean from the Danish side?”

  “Nobody, there are no freaking Danes in there, the bastards. It’s the Canadian Forces, our army, can’t you hear me?”

  “Yes, I hear you. Anyone I may know?”

  “They didn’t give me any names.”

  “But they’re from the Ministry of Defence, right?”

  “Yeah, they call it the Department of National Defence, the DND. But you know that.”

  “Do you think they would be interested in picking up one of their own?”

  Justin released his grip on the cellphone. He guessed Ned’s reply and wanted Magnus to hear for himself the words that could seal the deal.

  “Of course, they will, when they go back.”

  “OK, Ned. Tell them to meet me in Arctic Bay, and that I have something for them. The man for whom they came this far is sitting with me in the truck as we speak. Bye!”

  Justin flipped his cellphone shut. Before he could say another word, Magnus leaned toward Justin.

  “Hey, move back.” Anna shoved her pistol into Magnus’s side.

  Magnus sat up straight.

  “It’s OK,” Justin said. “I think he wanted to whisper in my ear.”

  “I want a deal,” Magnus said, his voice low and unsteady. “Don’t hand me over to the Danish troops, whoever they may be.”

  “What do you want?” Justin held Magnus’s eyes. Panic had begun to replace the courage in the man’s heart.

  “Political asylum and a new identity. Both for me and Valgerda.”

  “That’s a steep price. Your secrets are really worth that much?”

  “They are. Trust me, you’re the one getting a deal here. I’ll give you everything about the Arctic Wargame, the players, the story, everything.”

  “Start talking.”

  “Do I have your word?”

  “A lot of people will have to sign off on this, but as far I am concerned, I’ll do my best to get it done.”

  “That’s good enough for me, I guess,” Magnus agreed with a deep sigh.

  “OK, I’m listening,” Justin said.

  “No, you said it yourself that talk is cheap, and I know you’re a difficult man to convince. Find me a computer, and I’ll show you everything. E-mails, photos, plans, coordinates. Everything.”

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Arctic Bay, Canada

  April 14, 1:13 p.m.

  Magnus’s watch looked like any other wristwatch. Its only remarkable feature was the black dial, which had four yellow dots representing the numbers three, six, nine, and twelve. There was nothing special about its leather band either. But as Magnus flipped over the watch, Justin noticed a small clasp in the casing, right next to the switch for setting the time. Magnus inserted the tip of his fingernail underneath the clasp, popping out the pin of a USB connector.

  “It’s a jump drive,” Justin said. “What a great idea.”

  Magnus shrugged, as he handed his watch to Justin. “Its capacity is 64 GB. I keep it as a backup for confidential materials. In this case, it turned out to be my insurance policy.”

  Justin turned on the desktop computer and looked out of the living room’s small windows. Ned had allowed them to use his old Compaq.

  “What’s in there?” Anna asked, pacing around the desk, waiting for the computer screen to light up.

  Justin was sitting in the only chair in the room, in front of the monitor, while Magnus stood to the right of Justin, his back against the wall.

  “You’ll see. Pictures, maps, names, numbers. The entire Arctic Wargame operation at your fingertips.”

  “So, you just happened to be carrying around the operation’s database?” Justin asked, fumbling with the keyboard. The computer was still going through the stage of scanning the hard drive for startup errors.

  “No, of course not. I planned it well in advance. I sensed at some point things were not as they seemed in this operation. I had this unsettling feeling that Gunter was not telling me everything, and I was being set up. Maybe he needed someone to blame in case things went wrong, like they did. I know Gunter is very close to our Defense Minister. Then, j
ust before the beginning of our mission, I saw…”

  Justin looked up at Magnus. “What did you see?”

  Magnus remained silent. He wanted to tell Justin how he saw Yuliya kill in cold blood one of the recruits, how he ran a background search on her but could not find a record of a Yuliya Novikov ever working in the Danish Defense Intelligence Service or anywhere else in the security establishments of Denmark, about Yuliya’s slight trace of a foreign accent, and how Gunter was not really in charge of the Arctic Wargame. But Magnus did not trust the Canadians. Not yet. After all the paperwork was signed and he received his new identity, he would tell Justin everything he knew.

  “Magnus, what did you see?” Justin asked again.

  “Eh… I realized that… that most likely things were going to turn ugly… We had very few soldiers and against my better judgment, I still went on with this mission.”

  Justin thought over Magnus’s reply for a few seconds. “Here. It’s working.” He pointed to the screen lit up by a Caribbean sunset picture set as the wallpaper.

  “Once I began to feel uneasy about the whole deal,” Magnus said, “I began backing up anything I could get my hands on. I figured the information might come in handy if my survival was at stake. If not, it was hidden so well that your own men missed it.”

  Anna nodded. “It’s very clever. Hidden, but still in plain sight. I would have never thought these things even existed.”

  “They do, and for a couple of hundred bucks these days you can get larger capacity models.”

  “OK, let’s see what secrets you actually have in here,” Justin said once the computer was ready. “Let’s start at the beginning.” Justin selected the oldest folder, “March 30.”

  Three other folders were stored inside it, named respectively “To Do”, “In Transit” and “Completed.” A simple method of keeping records of the mission’s daily progress. He accessed the To Do folder. The screen was flooded with an abundance of files. JPEG and PDF files, as well as Word documents. The first picture he clicked on was a blown-up map of Cape Combermere in Ellesmere Island. There was another satellite picture, showing crystal clear details of a rocky beach and a structure that looked familiar to Justin.

  “Do you know what that is?” Magnus asked.

  “A Sirius Patrol depot,” Anna replied.

  “Yes, very good,” Magnus said.

  “We were there actually right here.” Justin tapped the monitor with his index finger and pointed at the wooden hut. “The depot was pillaged by some of the locals, but we still found leftover items, evidence of your patrols landing and stashing weapon caches.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. We retrieved some of the looted Let Støttevåben. Come to think about it, we used your own weapons against you.”

  Magnus’s face grew pale, and he looked away.

  “What’s this one?” Justin asked.

  The image he was referring to was a topographical map of Ellesmere Island’s east coast. A series of red and green dots were scattered all over the area.

  “Green dots are possible locations for other Sirius Patrol depots. Red ones are places where we actually set up weapons and supplies caches.”

  Justin began to count the red dots.

  “There are seven,” Magnus said, “minus the one that was discovered. Once we learned that area was too hot, Nanisivik was suggested as an easier point of entry because of the deep-water port and its considerable distance from the hot area.”

  “Alisha suggested Nanisivik, didn’t she?” asked Anna.

  “Yes,” Magnus replied with a nod of defeat. “I guess you know everything about her.”

  “We do. But you changed your plans at the last moment and that threw us off,” Justin said.

  “Yes, we were worried because the Americans were sticking their nose into our business, as they usually do. So we didn’t want to send icebreakers, opting instead for an aerial assault. So, we left our Rasmussens anchored in Søndre Strømfjord.”

  Justin shook his head.

  “So, are we worth the witness protection?”

  “Every byte of it,” Justin replied, pointing at the screen.

  “I’ve got a question,” Anna said. “Why are you so loyal to Valgerda?”

  “If you’re asking me if we’re lovers, the answer is no. Valgerda is an excellent agent, but after this mission, her career is over. Her life will be in danger, as well. I’m just doing my duty as her commanding officer and looking out for my teammates.”

  “What about the other survivors?” Anna said.

  “They’re all felons, and they didn’t keep their end of the deal. I have no obligations toward them. Jail them or deport them. It’s up to you.”

  A loud, rattling thunder announced the helicopters arrival. A quick glance outside the windows and Justin recognized them as the Canadian Forces. “OK,” he said, getting up quickly. “You,” he said, pointing at Magnus, “you died during the fight. Valgerda, she’s dead too and, of course, your bodies will never be recovered.”

  Magnus nodded.

  “Joe will hide you both for now. Once the DND is gone, we’ll fly you to a safe place, after I make a few phone calls. Anna, call Ned and tell him to bring Valgerda here very discreetly. Give him a few details, but nothing they don’t know already. Something about her being a potential witness and that we need to take her into custody. That should be sufficient.”

  Anna nodded.

  “I’ve got to meet the military.” Justin leaned over the keyboard and closed all documents still open in the computer. He fastened Magnus’s watch to his left wrist. “We’ll make sure Magnus and Valgerda are all set,” he said to Anna. “Erase the history of this computer, and make sure there are no traces we ever used this station.”

  “Yes, I’ll take care of that.”

  Justin extended his hand to Magnus, who readily shook it. “You made the right decision,” Justin said.

  Iqaluit, Canada

  April 15, 9:07 a.m.

  “Where did you get that?” Carrie muttered in a throaty voice, pointing at a box of chocolates Justin was holding in his left hand.

  “You weren’t supposed to see that, and the doctor said you should be sleeping.” Justin closed the sliding door of Carrie’s emergency room and sat on a low stool by her bed. Her left arm was connected to numerous intravenous tubes, while her right arm was completely wrapped in white gauze, from her wrist all the way to her shoulder.

  “When every inch of your body hurts like it has been run over twice by a train, it’s impossible to even close your eyes, let alone sleep.”

  “Do as you wish. You always do, anyway.”

  “Yes, and it works. Well, most of the time.”

  “It may work when it doesn’t involve jumping out of helicopters, you crazy nut job.”

  “Eh, jump, shjump,” Carrie said. She sighed and coughed a dry, deep hack.

  “You’re OK?” Justin leaned over her bed.

  “I’m… I’ll be fine. You know I had another visitor earlier today.”

  “Who? Johnson?”

  “No. Mr. Carter Hall. Your dad.”

  “No, he didn’t…”

  “Yes, he did come to visit. He was actually looking for you.”

  Justin frowned. “I’m not really in the mood to argue with him.”

  “He’s worried sick about you. Your brother came with him too. You should talk to them both.”

  “Look, Carrie, if I want your advice—”

  “I know you don’t want it, but I’m giving it to you anyway. You need to make peace with your family, OK? Don’t let the past haunt you any longer.” Carrie looked deep into his eyes. “I know you want to see your old man again.”

  “What, you’re an oracle now?”

  “I’m just saying they’re staying at the Welcome Inn, in case you change your mind.”

  Justin nodded, then gave her a shrug.

  Carrie sighed. “Oh, I’m so tired. Everything hurts, and the doctor says it will not
get better for a few more days.”

  “There’s no rush. Take your time and get your strength back. Our job is done.”

  “Kiawak told me a few things about what happened after the explosion, but his version was sketchy.”

  “You’re not going to believe what I have to tell you and show you,” Justin said, unfastening his wristwatch.

  “That’s new. Where did you get it? At the gift store?”

  “No. This watch belonged to Magnus Tornbjorn, the Danish Chief of Operations for Arctic Wargame.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, you heard me correctly. This watch is not what it seems. Actually, nothing in this story is as it seems.”

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Federal Security Service Headquarters, Moscow, Russia

  April 16, 8:15 a.m.

  Grigori Smirnov stared for a long time at the Lubyanka Square. His weary eyes followed the black Mercedeses, Porsches, and other expensive vehicles zooming around the traffic circle. A stream of pedestrians flowed from the Metro station, heading for their offices, braving the chilling breeze and the first snowflakes blanketing the streets.

  Smirnov sighed and frowned. His day had begun as chaotic as the traffic outside his office. It had been over twenty-four hours since he last communicated with Yuliya, just before the beginning of the Arctic Wargame. Smirnov hated silence. Silence meant bad news. Bad news meant mistakes, blame, and scapegoats. Especially since his superiors had started asking questions. Questions to which he had no answers. Or worse, questions he could not afford to answer.

  He allowed himself a small grin. Yuliya had disappeared and he wished she was dead or somehow incapacitated. She and her silence had become a liability. And so had become Helma, the kidnapped wife of Gunter Madsen. The prick. Botching up a perfectly good operation.

  He sighed again. His breath fogged a small section of the window glass. The view became blurry, and the cars and the people disappeared from his sight. He turned around and walked to his desk, determined to erase all traces of his involvement in the Arctic Wargame, his brainchild, and cut all his ties to this operation.