Dead.
Again.
How could the pain be so fresh after so many years?
Though his heart thudded painfully in his chest, no tears came. He had shed his tears for his father when he was a boy. He had no more.
Craig spoke by the door to one of his guards. “Take them both to the cells to join the others. Bring the woman and boy down, too.”
The boy…
Viktor stirred, finding purpose. “You swore,” he called out hoarsely.
Craig paused at the door. “I will keep my promise as long as you haven’t lied.”
Matt watched the admiral struggle to his feet and noted there was still a strength to him. Petkov’s hands were bound so that he couldn’t access the wrist monitor, and in short order, he and Petkov were escorted at gunpoint from the room.
It was over. Craig had won.
With the bomb deactivated, the bastard had plenty of time to recall the remainder of the Delta team and dig himself free. And with the notes and samples, he had all he needed from the ice station.
All that was left was to clean up the mess.
Returned to their cell, Matt and Petkov drew stunned gazes from the other prisoners, Ogden and the two biology students in one cell, Washburn alone in the other.
It didn’t take long for Jenny and Maki to be herded down as well. They were thrust into the cell with Washburn.
Matt met Jenny at the bars. “Are you okay?”
She nodded. Her face was ashen, but her eyes were twin sparks of hellfire. Washburn took Maki from Jenny and sat with the boy on the bed. He seemed fascinated by the lieutenant’s dark skin.
“What happened?” Jenny asked.
“Craig got the samples, the books, and the abort code.”
Petkov stirred behind Matt, speaking for the first time. “The huyok got nothing,” he spat out thickly.
Matt turned to the man. His face was pure ice. “What do you mean?”
“There is no abort code for the Polaris Array.”
It took half a second for Matt to assimilate the information. The admiral had tricked Craig, outfoxed him at his own game. And while Matt might have appreciated it in other circumstances, the outcome was bleak for all of them.
“In twenty-nine minutes,” Petkov said, “the world ends.”
18. North Star
![Ice Hunt _30.jpg](https://litlife.club/books/199844/read/images/_30.jpg)
Perched on the elevator platform, Craig typed in the code on the electronic keyboard wired to the titanium sphere. He hurried. They had wasted a precious ten minutes hooking up the connection.
Still, despite the urgency, Craig carefully listened to the digital recording. He typed in each letter as dictated. Then, as directed by the admiral, he retyped the same sequence in reverse this time. His fingers moved quickly and surely.
V-G-R-O-B-U-Y-A-T-E-B-Y-A-V–I-D-E-L
Once done, he hit the “enter” button.
Nothing happened.
He hit it again with the same result.
“Is this hooked properly?” he asked Sergeant Conrad, the demolition expert.
“Yes, sir. I’m registering that the device has accepted the code, but it’s not responding.”
“Maybe I typed it in wrong,” he mumbled. If there was any mistake, it was probably when he typed the sequence in backward. He looked at those letters more closely. Then he saw his mistake.
“Goddamn it!” he swore, clenching a fist.
The reversed letters separated into Russian words: V grobu ya tebya videl. The translation was a common Russian curse. I will see you in your grave.
“Nothing appears wrong,” Conrad said, bent half under the device, misinterpreting his outburst.
“Everything’s wrong!” Craig snapped back, leaping off the platform. “We’ve got the wrong code.”
He pounded back down the steps. He knew one way to make the bastard talk.
The boy.
Matt listened as Admiral Petkov finished his description of Polaris. The sonic bomb on Level One was only one of the devices. There were another five amplifiers out on the ice, ready to spread the destruction in all directions. The pure ambition struck him dumb — to destroy the entire polar ice cap, to bring ruin down upon the globe, and potentially trigger the next great ice age.
He finally found his tongue. “Are you nuts?” It wasn’t the most diplomatic response, but he was way beyond diplomacy at this point.
Petkov merely glanced toward him. “After all you’ve seen, is this truly a world you want to protect?”
“Hell, yes. I’m in it.” He reached between the bars and took Jenny’s hand. “Everything I love is in it. It’s fucked up. No question there, but hell, you don’t throw the damn baby out with the bathwater.”
“No matter,” Petkov said. “Polaris cannot be stopped. The detonation will commence in twenty minutes. Even if we could escape here, the secondary amplifiers are planted fifty kilometers away, all around the island. You’d have to disable and remove at least two of the five to break the array’s full effect. That could never be done. It is over.”
Matt had tired of the admiral’s defeatism, but it was beginning to spread to him, too. What could they do?
Jenny slipped her hand from his. “Hold on.” She eyed the pair of Delta Force guards. They stood by the prison-wing door, one watching out, one in. They were sharing a smoke, passing it between them, ignoring them.
With no one watching, Jenny crossed the cell and reached out to Maki. The boy was half asleep in Washburn’s arms, exhausted and shell-shocked. Jenny parted the child’s parka, and with her back to the guards, she removed a black walkie-talkie.
She tucked the radio in her own jacket and crossed back.
“Who do you think you’re going to call with that?” Matt asked.
“The Polar Sentinel…I hope.”
Washburn heard her. “Captain Perry’s here?” she hissed, stirring from the bed.
Jenny waved her back down. “He’s been monitoring everything here, seeking a way to rescue us.” She shook her head. “If what this guy says is true, rescuing us is impossible — but maybe they can do something about this Polaris Array.”
Matt nodded. It was a long shot, but they had no other option. “Try to raise them.”
Washburn helped shield Jenny. The lieutenant carried Maki, singing a lullaby to cover her attempt to communicate.
Matt stepped toward the Russian. “If we are to have any hope for this to work, we need the exact coordinates of the secondary amplifiers.”
Petkov shook his head, not so much in refusal as hopelessness.
Matt resisted the urge the throttle the man. He spoke rapidly, sensing the press of time, the falling ax. “Admiral, please. We are all going to die. Everything your father sought to hide will be destroyed. You’ve won there. His research will be forever lost. But the revenge you seek upon the world…because of an atrocity you thought was committed upon your father by your government or mine…it’s over. We both know what truly happened. The tragedy here was your father’s own doing. He cooperated in the research, and only at the end found his humanity.”
Petkov’s expression was tired, his head sagging a bit.
Matt continued, pointing over to the boy. “Maki saved your father. And your father attempted to save him, preserving the boy in ice. Even at the end, your father died with hope for the future. And right there lies that hope.” Matt stabbed a finger toward Maki. “The children of the world. You have no right to take that from them.”
Petkov stared over at the boy. Maki lay in Washburn’s arms, head cradled against her neck. She sang softly. “He is a beautiful boy,” Petkov conceded. His gaze flicked to Matt, then a nod. “I’ll give you the coordinates, but the sub will never make it there in time.”