by Ben Hammott
When the man turned his gaze on Jack, his annoyance was hidden behind his sunglasses but not from his voice. “We have no need of a pilot, Mr. Hawkins, as we have plenty of our own. Your services are not sought or required.” He refocused back on Jane. “Your services are, though, Miss Harper. You will be well paid for your expertise and time and returned here―or anywhere else in the world you wish―when you have finished your assessment.”
Jane stared at the man for a few moments. “As I am sure you are fully aware, Mr. Hawthorne, I have just returned from Antarctica where I, Jack, and the rest of our scientific team suffered a horrendous experience that not all survived. So you can understand my reluctance to return. Sorry, I'm not interested.”
“Believe me, Miss Harper, if I had faced those alien monsters I read about from your colleague's newspaper story, I wouldn't want to go back either, but we're not asking you to go aboard the spaceship, only to examine the ice it's entombed in. A crack has formed across a wide section and a few large chunks have broken off, which has caused concern as to the iceberg's stability. NASA scientists and technicians are aboard the craft, as well as American and British engineers and soldiers. Their lives are at risk. This is why they are keen to enlist your help.”
“I understand their concern, but I'm sure you can find someone else with more experience connected with the study of icebergs and their rates of deterioration.”
“Yes, we probably could, but you are already acquainted with this particular iceberg and what's inside. Bringing in an outsider risks revealing the discovery to another person.”
“Surely that's no longer a concern now Richard's splashed the story all over the newspapers?” countered Jack.
“Something I'm confident Richard is now regretting,” stated the man, knowingly.
“If you think that, then you've never met him,” scoffed Jack.
The man smirked, as if he knew something they didn't.
“I admit his story is sensational, but apart from a few photos and Mr. Whorley's frankly unbelievable account of what happened in Antarctica, he has no actual proof the spaceship or alien monsters exist. The internet is full of faked photographs and alien sightings, and the Pine Ice Glacier is so remote it's almost impossible to go there to verify his story.”
“So you'll cover up the discovery?” Jane asked.
The man shrugged. “I am not involved in such decisions. My task is to acquire your services Miss Harper, at any cost. I've been instructed to inform you that you can name your price.”
Jane looked at the overdressed man with renewed interest, who she noticed had started to sweat in the heat. “I can pluck a figure from the air and you'll pay it?”
“Not me personally, but yes, that is my understanding. Within reason of course.”
“You are not seriously considering going back after all we went through?” said Jack. “We barely survived.”
Jane looked at him. “Yes, I think I am. How long is it going to take for me to check out the iceberg? A day―two tops. And I can name my fee? I'll never have an opportunity like this again.”
“The clock is ticking, Miss Harper,” interrupted Hawthorne.
“If I said I wanted one million pounds, what would you say?”
“I'd say, high, but reasonable, given the circumstances.”
“What about three million?”
Jack looked at her in shock.
“Look, Miss Harper, I don't want to seem rude, but time is of the essence here. Just name the price that will get you to Antarctica so we can get things moving.”
“Okay, Mr. Hawthorne. I also don't want to seem rude, but this is what I want―three million British pounds: one for me, one for Jack, because he's coming with me or I don't go, and one million to be donated to charities of my choice. That's my price. If it's not acceptable then please leave―you're blocking the sun and ruining our holiday.”
Hawthorne sighed. “It's acceptable, but we have to leave now. I have a plane waiting to take you to Antarctica.”
Jane was a little surprised by the suddenness. “I'll need certain things to do my job.”
“We probably already have what you need, but make a list and I'll see it's taken care of.”
Jane turned to Jack, finding he had a stunned look on his face. She smiled. “What's wrong? Isn't a million pounds enough to buy you a new airplane?”
“More than enough, and thanks for the consideration, but it's not that that worries me. I can't believe we're going back.”
Scout Ship Salvage
WHEN THE THREE fabricated skids were ready to be pushed into position, the large airbag beneath the front of the spaceship was inflated to slowly lift the sleek scout ship. When it was six-inches off the ground, four men pushed the first skid under the leg and the air let out of the bag. The foot of the spacecraft rested gently on the skid and was then clamped tightly in place so the two could not separate during the journey. The bag was removed, placed beside one of the back legs and the process repeated. After the final skid was in place, they were joined together with lengths of metal bolted on to keep them from twisting or separating.
The roar of the waiting bulldozer echoed through the hangar when its powerful diesel engine roared to life, sending a plume of black exhaust fumes up to the ceiling. The driver drove it into position at the front of the ship and the engineers hitched it to the forward sled. McNally checked everything was secure before giving the signal for the driver to start towing. The skids screeched on the metal floor as the ship slowly moved towards the exit.
The engineers followed it through the ice tunnel and onto the ice ledge. As the bulldozer turned, the ship slewed towards the edge, but stopped after a few heart-stopping moments with half a back skid overhanging the ice. The driver cautiously inched it to safety.
McNally glanced up to make sure the ship had cleared the overhang of ice and told the driver to stop. The ship was unhitched and the dozer pulled clear. McNally glanced up at the helicopter hovering over the cold ocean a short distance away and contacted the pilot with his radio. “It's ready.”
The helicopter approached and hovered over the scout ship. Blasted by the downwash whipping up snow and ice, the men grabbed the swinging cables and attached them to the harness they had fitted around the ship. When the skid clamps were released, McNally glanced up at the pilot and gave the lift signal.
The helicopter took the slack out of the cables and strained to lift the weight. After the pilot applied more power to the engines, the spaceship slowly rose from the ice. As soon as it was free of the temporary skids, the helicopter turned towards the ship. The engineers congratulated themselves and watched the impressive alien vessel sway below the helicopter it dwarfed; it was flying for the first time in thousands of years. This was the riskiest part of the operation. If one of the cables snapped, the others wouldn't be able to support the weight and the ship would be lost to the sea.
McNally contacted the ship on the radio. “The scout ship's on its way.” He turned to his men. “Well done. Now it's time to tackle the larger cargo shuttlecraft. Hitch the skid trailer to the dozer and bring it into the hangar.” He headed back through the tunnel to start preparations for salvaging the second alien vessel.
As the cargo vessel had four legs, the trailer would be dismantled and an extra skid would be connected. Though the cargo ships were larger, no one foresaw any problems.
Admiral Thomson, the scientists from NASA and the crew, watched the spacecraft swinging precariously below the helicopter approach the container ship. Some let out a sigh of relief and others cheered when it was lowered safely onto the ship. Men rushed forward to unhitch the cables and secure the alien vessel to the deck.
Mason walked over and stood beside Thomson. “What we're looking at is probably the most important piece of technology on the planet, so I hope it's not going to disappear into Area 51 like the last one.”
Thomson glanced at Mason. “What happens to it when it leaves this ship is not my decision and neithe
r is it yours,” he stated, testily.
The NASA scientists and engineers walked over to the amazing spaceship and wandered around it, pointing at certain features and surmising what their functions might be. They couldn't wait to get it back to their workshop and gain access to all of its alien advanced engineering. It should be a simple matter of reverse engineering everything and in a few years they could have a whole fleet of them going into space and traveling farther than they ever thought possible in their lifetime. Mars, Jupiter and beyond, wouldn't be a problem with this ship. The age of true space exploration would soon be upon them. They were reluctantly pushed back when a large cover was pulled over the scout ship to hide it from prying eyes in the sky.
Kidnapped
THE FIRST SENSATION the man experienced when he awoke was the pain behind his eyes. It felt like someone had his head in a vice and was clamping the jaws shut. His eyes blinked open to discover something covered his face, a hood of some kind. His attempts to remove it were foiled by the bindings that secured his hands to the back of the uncomfortable chair he sat on. Through the material he glimpsed a circle of light. Fear washed over him. What the hell was happening? The last thing he remembered was exiting a restaurant with the pretty woman he had impressed with his brave deeds of derring-do aboard the alien spaceship and heading back to his hotel room for a night of drink-fueled passion. When the taxi he had hailed pulled away from the curb he had noticed a hissing sound and then nothing until he had just come around. It was obvious he had been drugged and kidnapped. It was the only explanation. But why and by whom, and what happened to the woman he was with? Fear replaced his confusion when someone walked past the light filtering through the hood, blocking it briefly. He almost screamed when the hood was suddenly pulled from his head and blinked when the bright glare assaulted his eyes.
“Hello, Richard.”
Richard's indignation shoved aside his fear as he stared at the hazy owner of the voice concealed behind the bright light. “Who the hell are you and why have you kidnapped me? You won't get away with this.”
“But we already have,” stated the voice. “Only a select few know of your whereabouts and they won't help you.”
The chair the man scraped across the floor was positioned in front of his prisoner. The man sat and looked at his captive, his head haloed by the light behind.
“You have been brought here because we need your help.”
Richard snorted. “You drug and kidnap me and then ask for my help. Think again, Buster. You'll get no help from me.”
The man ignored Richard and continued, “I have been following the heroic account of your battles and escapes from the alien creatures while you and the other scientists were aboard the spaceship. It makes for a fascinating read.”
Suspicion clouded Richard's eyes as he scrutinized the man.
“Someone with your unique experience will be invaluable to the team.”
Though Richard suspected the answer, he asked the question, “And what team would that be?”
“The team that searches the alien vessel for advanced technology.”
“I'm not interested,” replied Richard adamantly. “I'm never setting foot aboard that death-ship again.”
The man smiled. “Look around, Richard. You are already onboard.”
When the interrogation light was switched off, the darkness that remained was suddenly flooded with light from portable halogen lights set around the room. Richard's eyes roamed over the stacks of storage containers and the large airlock door a short distance away. He was in the spaceship cargo bay. His chair scraped back when he jumped at seeing the hundreds of insects that had been swept into a pile to clear the floor.
“Relax, Richard, they are all dead. We gassed them and the Space Rats. I assure you, you are perfectly safe.”
Richard wasn't convinced by the man's reassurance. He had experienced the terrors contained within the ship firsthand. “Nowhere is safe on this floating coffin. There are horrors in here you can't even imagine and all want to kill and eat you.”
“That, Richard, is where your experience will come in handy. Also, it's imperative we reach the map room, which, according to your and the other scientists debriefings, you led the scientists to having already visited it previously. You can do the same for our team, as they'd rather not wander around aimlessly in the hope they stumble across it.”
“That's your problem, not mine. I've nearly died too many times already on this vessel and it's not an experience I'm willing to repeat. I wish you good luck, but I demand you release me immediately. If you do, and return me to where you abducted me from, I'll say nothing about this.”
The man huffed. “Correct me if I'm wrong, Richard, but didn't you give those same assurances about the discovery of the spaceship?”
Richard cringed. Why did things always come back to bite him in the ass? “That was different. You've committed a crime. Release me and I promise I won't say anything.”
The man's smile unsettled Richard.
“I'd rather cut a vein, wander through the spaceship and trust one of those alien monsters not to eat me than have any faith in your promises.” The man stood. “However, if that's your final word…”
“It is,” insisted Richard, obstinately.
“Then I will arrange your removal from this spaceship.”
Surprised by the man's sudden and unexpected amicableness, worry creased Richard's brow when he asked, “You'll set me free?”
The man glared at his captive. “Oh, no, Richard, you'll never be free. You seem to forget that I am not the only one that has committed a crime here. Even though it is now in our care, when we searched your home we discovered the alien creature you smuggled out of Antarctica, risking the lives of everyone on the planet if it carries a deadly virus.”
Richard snorted. “That's utter nonsense. I've been close to the creature and I'm not ill.”
“How can you be sure? There could be deadly parasites or bacteria growing inside you that could affect you in ways we couldn't possibly imagine and which could be very contagious. You have broken so many laws I don't know where to begin. No Richard, you will not go free. When you leave here you'll be taken to a secure facility and kept in quarantine.”
Dread now creased Richard's features. “For how long?”
The man shrugged. “For the rest of your life I would imagine.”
“You can't do that!”
The man smiled again. “Can't I? Goodbye, Richard.” He headed for the airlock.
“Wait! What if I help you?” Richard called out, desperation and fear shrouded his words. “What happens to me then?”
The man stopped and turned. “If you do that, then your future will be very different. The charges against you will be waived and you will be free to carry on with your life.”
“If I survive, that is?” said Richard, not confident he would.
“You will be accompanied by well-armed and highly trained professionals who will protect you.”
Richard still wasn't convinced. “Trained to fight other soldiers, not the monsters aboard this spaceship.”
“If they can be killed, my men will kill them. So, Richard, are you going to join the team?”
Richard sighed. “You leave me no damn choice, but I'm not sure I can remember the route. I was running from monsters at the time and didn't take note of where I was going.”
“Then you'll just have to pray your memory returns, because if you can't lead the team to the map room, my men will lead you straight to quarantine where you'll spend the rest of your miserable days―and I assure you, Richard, they will be extremely miserable.”
A guard approached and released Richard from the chair.
“Come grab a coffee, Richard. Your teammates should be arriving shortly.”
Reluctantly, Richard followed the man from the room. Why did his life have to be so complicated? All he wanted was fame, fortune and all the pleasant things they brought. Was that so much to ask for?
&n
bsp; The Russians
THE RADAR OPERATOR aboard the American container ship, Starlight, stared at the image on his scope for a few moments before turning to the large man sipping the strong coffee responsible for the bitter aroma that filled the cabin. “The Russians have arrived, Captain.”
Captain Sergio Ramos wasn't surprised. The American commander had already informed him they were on their way.
“Shall I pass the news on to the Americans, Captain?” inquired First Mate Phillip Riesman.
The Captain nodded. “Inform them we're tracking the Russians and they will be alerted if they approach us.”
Riesman picked up the internal telephone and did as instructed.
Norton hung up the telephone linked to the bridge and crossed to the Admiral conversing with one of the men from NASA. “The Russians have arrived, sir.”
Thomson turned, glanced at Norton and walked across the room. “What are they doing?”
Norton followed his superior. “They have turned on a heading towards the iceberg and the captain will let us know if it changes course towards us.”
Thomson paused at the satellite scan laid out on a table to one side of the large room. “I wonder what their plan is. We have the only access to the spaceship covered.”
Norton briefly pondered answering, but held his tongue. It was a habit of the Admiral's to speak his thoughts aloud. “Will you contact them, sir?”
Thomson shook his head. “Not yet. We know why they are here, so let's see what they do first.”
*****
The Russian ship, Spasatel Kuznetsov, a MPSV07 class, multi-purpose salvage and icebreaking vessel, approached within sight of its destination, the Antarctic iceberg recently set adrift.
Captain Georgy Brusilov, the man tasked with leading the Russian salvage operation, entered the below-deck storage area and glanced around at the men constructing the equipment designed to gain entry to the spaceship. The large metal hull of the cargo barge that had been stripped of everything that wasn't needed for the mission ahead, occupied center stage of the spacious room. Streams of molten-metal sparks flew from around the men busy welding extra plates of steel to the square-nosed platform stretching out slightly proud of the bow. The barge would act as a platform for their plan to gain entry to the spaceship entombed in the ice.
