“Sure.”
Though a small woman, she was just barely able to get both her arms and head inside. She grunted a few times, her body stretching and twisting, then she let out a brief “Ha” of triumph, and pulled herself back out.
“Let’s see what we’ve got,” she said, turning the computer so she could type on the keyboard. It took several seconds, but finally she smiled. “I’m in.”
Billy touched his earpiece. “We’re linked into the container’s computer.”
“Excellent,” Matt said, sounding relieved. “And?”
“Hold on. Karen’s sorting through things right now.”
“It’s pretty bare bones,” she said. “Looks like there’s some kind of communication module. Most likely the way the Project remotely contacts the container. If we look hard enough, we’d probably find an antenna built into the roof.” She paused. “Huh. What’s this?”
Billy leaned over so he could see the screen, but it was full of unreadable code, at least to him.
She shook her head. “I think it’s just a…wait a minute…” She stared at the screen, her eyes widening in concern.
“What is it?” Billy asked.
“I…I thought it was just a normal clock. You know, to sync computers. But…” She looked at him. “It’s a countdown.”
The reality of what she said hit him immediately. “How much time?”
“No…no, this can’t be right.”
“Karen! How. Much. Time?”
She studied the readout and clicked a few keys. “Oh, shit. Run!”
Billy had left his mic on so Matt could hear everything.
“No…no, this can’t be right,” Karen said.
“Karen! How. Much. Time?”
A brief pause, then, “Oh, shit. Run!”
Before another word could be spoken, a loud rumble burst over the line, then the signal cut out.
“Billy?” Matt said. “Billy, can you hear me? What’s going on there?”
“We’ve lost the signal,” Leon said as he typed in commands on his computer, trying to reconnect the signal. “I can’t get through. I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Matt threw the headphones off. “Keep trying!” he ordered as he moved to the empty station on Leon’s right.
The others in the communications room started crowding around Leon and Matt. Fearing the worst, Matt searched online for feeds from Cleveland-area radio stations. He found a news station, and pumped it through the external speakers.
For several tense minutes, there was nothing. Matt wanted to think it had just been an equipment failure, but couldn’t. Then, as if to confirm his intuition, the announcer said, “We are just receiving reports of a large explosion south of the airport. As of yet, there is no information on the cause. We have a reporter on his way to the scene, and should have more in a few minutes.”
Though there was no reason to listen any longer, Matt let the radio play. It was soon determined that the explosion did not involve any aircraft and seemed completely unconnected to the airport. According to the on-scene reporter, a two-block area of industrial-type buildings had taken the brunt of the damage. Unnamed fire department contacts said it had been a particularly intense blast, but so far no bodies had been discovered.
The people at the Ranch knew it wouldn’t stay that way.
30
I.D. MINUS 17 HOURS 42 MINUTES
BLUEBIRD TIME 5:18 PM
Ash would never again complain about the cold. Forget fire. The frigid Arctic was the true Hell.
“There it is,” Gagnon said.
Ash peered out the windshield and could just make out the lump of Yanok Island on the horizon through the near perpetual darkness of late afternoon. They were flying low in hopes of keeping their arrival a surprise, the ocean a mere thirty feet below the bottom of the plane.
Before leaving Grise Fiord, Ash and Gagnon had gone over the map and decided their best approach would be from the southwest, the opposite end of the island from where the research station was located. Gagnon felt confident he could get the plane into the small inlet that was located at that point, and bring the team all the way up to the land. Ash was all for that. Anything that ensured solid ground under his feet was a good idea.
The closer they got to the island, the lower Gagnon took the plane, until it finally felt like they were just inches above the surface. As the pilot had warned them, the ice that had been missing from this part of the ocean only a week earlier had started to make its return, and the sea around Yanok was crusting over. The problem was, in some places it was barely an inch thick, while in others it was already over a foot.
“Hold on,” Gagnon said. “This might be rough.”
There was a handle next to Ash just below the window. He wrapped his fingers around it and squeezed tightly. He didn’t look in back to see how Chloe and Red were doing, but he doubted they were any more comfortable with this than he was.
With the island still half a mile away, Gagnon lowered the plane onto the ice. As smooth as it looked from even a height of ten feet above, it wasn’t. The craft jumped and lurched as it whipped across the frozen ocean. At one point, it leaped into the air for several feet before slamming back onto the surface. Still, the plane raced ahead.
“Shouldn’t we be slowing?” Ash asked, his voice raised above the roar coming from outside.
“Working on it,” Gagnon said.
With a bang, the right side of the plane raised into the air, the skid on that side having hit an uneven spot on the ice.
“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Red called out from the back.
For a second it seemed like the plane was going to right itself, but then a gust of frigid wind caught the underside. The opposite wingtip dug into the ice, pivoting the plane briefly into the air before the craft smashed down on its back.
It skidded forward, twisting around and around.
Ash and the others hung upside down, caught in their seats by their straps and unable to do anything as the plane slid across the ice. He had no idea which direction they were heading. He only hoped it wasn’t toward an area of open sea.
The wind and the engine and screeching of metal on ice blended together in a cacophony of chaos.
Someone yelled from the back, but whatever they were trying to say, Ash couldn’t make it out. He tried to look back, but quickly gave up. The plane was jumping around too much, and all he ended up doing was knocking his head against the seat.
“Just hang on!” he yelled, knowing that wasn’t much help.
A loud bang, then a groan from the right side of the plane. Their speed rapidly decreased and the spin nearly stopped. Ash turned his head enough so he could peer out the window. The wing on his side had apparently hit something and was now at a different angle to the plane than it had been earlier. If the crash itself had not already made the aircraft worthless, the damage done to the wing did. Ash knew it would never fly again.
Their speed continued dropping, until finally their forward motion stopped altogether. The plane turned slowly for several seconds more, eating through the last bit of momentum.
The only noise now was the wind.
Ash caught his breath, and looked over at Gagnon. The pilot hung in his seat, unconscious.
“Anyone hurt?” Ash called to the back.
There was a pause, then Red said, “Just a cut on the side of my head. I think I’m okay.”
“Chloe?”
“What?” she said.
“Are you all right?”
“I’m hanging upside down in a plane in the middle of the Arctic Ocean. No, I’m not all right. I want to get out!”
He had forgotten about her bouts of claustrophobia. “Out is a great idea. Careful when you unhook yourselves. First one out, make sure to check the ice first. I don’t want anyone falling through.”
There were grunts and groans from the back as the other two released themselves from their seats.
Ash used one hand to pull himself as tight to his seat as possible, then unhooked the belt with the other. Freed, he twisted as he fell so that he landed on his back. He flipped around and crawled over to Gagnon.