“Goddamn it!”
Where the fuck were they?
Maybe Isaksen had made it to the entrance of the service arches. Or perhaps he had tried to get to Summer Camp or one of the labs, where they would have heat.
If he had, he was dead out there. It took just a few minutes to become hypothermic in this weather, and the labs were about fifteen minutes away. Summer Camp was much closer, but Steve wasn’t about to head out there. There were no flags to guide him, and in this weather, he might wander off and not find his way back.
Still, he could walk part of the way, keep the station in sight, and see if there were any lights on out there.
Keeping the station to his back, he walked toward Summer Camp, leaning into the wind, panning back and forth with the flashlight, watching for bodies buried in the snow. But all too quickly, the station began to disappear, swallowed by darkness and whiteout. He couldn’t see Summer Camp at all.
“Shit.” Painfully cold now, he made his way back to the station, up the back stairs, and into his office, where he sat, shivering, rage building in his gut.
Why would Isaksen’s buddies be so certain he was alive?
They’re just fucking with you.
Where thefuckhad Isaksen gone, and how had he managed to take Sam with him? She was dead weight—in more ways than one. She’d been out there for at least six or seven minutes before he’d gotten to her, lying exposed on the ice.
Steve peeled off his parka and logged into his VPN to check his email.
Finally! A response from his buyer.
He clicked the email.
Situation too hot. We are being watched. Deal is off. There will be no further contact.
Adrenaline hit his bloodstream, panic making his pulse rocket. “No! No, no, no! You can’t do this to me!”
If they didn’t send a plane, he was fucked! He’d be arrested for triple homicide and spend the rest of his fucking life in SuperMax—if he wasn’t executed for treason.
“Jesus!” He bit back a sob, his stomach in knots.
He fired back a response, demanding that they send someone as soon as the wind died down and reminding them of everything he’d risked for this.
The email bounced.
“Fuck!” Bile rose in his throat, his stomach rebelling. “Oh, God!”
He couldn’t frame anyone because he’d bragged about killing the three of them to the two Cobra guys. He could kill them, too. He could kill everyone on station. But they had probably contacted their boss by now.
People know.
That’s why his buyer had backed out.
No, there had to be a way out of this. He was too smart to be caught by a few hired guns. He would find another buyer. Or smuggle himself off station in a shipping crate. Or fake his death and make his way to McMurdo and onto a container ship. Or hold everyone on station hostage in exchange for safe passage.
Another buyer. That was the easy answer.
If China didn’t have the balls for this, Russia surely would. And it just so happened that he had a team of Russians right here, locked in the B1 Lounge. He was certain they’d faked the shit about their plane so they could steal the components. Maybe he could interest them in buying the goods instead.
* * *
Pain broughtThor awake with a jerk.
For helvede! Damn it!
When had he fallen asleep?