Steve nodded. “You’ve got six hours. That’s when the Cobra security team arrives. I’ve got schematics of the satellite for you to study—when you make up your mind, of course. We’ll put together the tools you’ll need.”
“Great.” She turned toward the door.
Steve wouldn’t let it go. “I know that the idea of flying now is scary. I’d be afraid, too. But if I had your skillset, I’d do it for the sake of my country. They’ve already found pilots willing to take the risk.”
First Patty’s death, and now this.
Samantha would have to be crazy to say yes.
She stopped, turned. “Send me the schematics. If I die out there on the ice, I will haunt you and this station.”
Steve opened his mouth to speak, relief on his face.
She held up her hand to stop him. “Don’tthank me.”
* * *
Thor watchedout the window of the specially outfitted C-130 Hercules Globemaster, a broad expanse of ice barely visible in the darkness of Antarctic night. The long flight had been turbulent so far.
Jones grinned. “Segal’s going to puke.”
Segal did look a little green. “Shut up.”
Tossed about by air currents, the plane bounced and shimmied, once dropping so quickly that Thor’s stomach seemed to get left behind. It wasn’t until they neared their destination that the turbulence finally died down.
Across from him, Segal, looking recovered, held up his neoprene mask, which had a built-in ventilator to warm the air. “Is this really necessary?”
These guys had no clue.
Thor glanced at his phone. “It’s minus sixty-eight Celcius out there right now. If your trachea freezes shut, you die. If you breathe freezing air for too long, you damage your lungs or die.”
Thor made eye contact with Jones and Segal. “Respect the cold as if it were an enemy trying to kill you, because it is. We’ll be at almost ten thousand feet elevation, but we’re coming from Colorado so the altitude won’t hit us as hard as it does most new arrivals. This is one of the driest places on earth with humidity at only one or two percent. Stay hydrated. When the plane lands, a ground crew will deal with the freight. Just grab your gear and be ready to move.”
In addition to the clothes and equipment they needed to complete their mission, they’d brought crates of fresh fruit and vegetables—a luxury down here—as well as parts needed for an urgent machine repair.
The pilot spoke into their earpieces. “You can see the lights of the station below on your left. We’re landing now. Stay buckled.”
Thor felt the pilot slow the plane’s velocity and glanced out the window to see the station. Amundsen-Scott looked like a moon base, an outpost in the middle of inhospitable territory, its windows little rectangles of light.
Skis hit the snow. The plane slowed, turned around, and taxied back toward the station before coming to a stop.
Thor and the others unbuckled and got to their feet, putting on their gloves, masks, and hats. “The first blast of air is going to be a shock to the lungs. The cold will make any exposed skin burn.”
Thor opened the door, lowered the stairs, the cold rushing in. “Let’s move!”
He was the first one out, his lips curving into a smile at the sight of the wide-open ice-scape that surrounded them, a stiff breeze hitting him in the face, making the skin around his eyes tingle and burn.
Jones gasped. “Holy shit!”
Segal coughed, a reaction to the cold. “The Viking wasn’t kidding.”
The ground crew was already unloading the pallets and refueling the plane. Then four men walked by, carrying something between them.
A body bag.
Thor watched over his shoulder as they carried it on board, buckled it into a row of seats, then stood around it for a moment in silence.
What had happened? An accident, perhaps?