The truck slowed down. Its front wheels caught on some ice. It spun in a series of giant circles, edging closer and closer to the cliff.
I leapt to my feet. Planted my boots in the snow and started to run.
The soldiers went for their guns.
Gunfire rang out from the southeast. One of the soldiers keeled over and toppled into the snow. The rest dropped to the ground.
I glanced over my shoulder. Beverly and Graham knelt behind a small snow bank. The air blazed with gunfire, most of it going their way.
I shifted my gaze. The truck slid across the ice, gaining vast amounts of speed. It spun faster. Crates crunched under its wheels. They scattered widely. Many of them broke apart and fell off the cliff.
The vehicle spun in a tight circle, then a looser one.
Then it spun itself right off the cliff.
I heard a distant crash. Then my eardrums exploded. Searing heat ripped into the sky. My body was tossed into the air. I twisted in circles and smashed to the ground. The back of my head cracked against the ice. A wave of nausea swept over me.
What the hell was that?
Something cracked. I lifted my head. Dizzily, I stared at the cliff.
It started to crumble.
Screams rang out. Soldiers tried to run. But the plunging ice caught up to them, sending them screaming to their deaths. The crates tumbled after them.
The cracking ice headed toward me. I scrambled backward. A gigantic chunk of ice broke free. It dropped straight down. Moments later, I heard it crunch against the ice docks.
I stood up. Far below, I saw the destruction I'd wrought. The twisted wreckage of the truck was embedded into the side of a partially submerged submarine. The submarine, in turn, lay at an awkward angle.
The ice docks had been torn to pieces. Large chunks of ice floated near the cliff. Scattered bodies and crates were strewn about the area. Some floated in the water. Others lay on slabs of ice.
Among the falling snow and black smoke, I caught a brilliant glimpse of amber. I squinted. A single crate rested on a large piece of floating ice directly below me. Panels from the Amber Room were scattered about its surface. Some lay flat. Others poked out of the ice like knives in a butcher block.
The ice at my feet cracked. I took a few steps backward. I could scarcely believe it. I'd hoped the truck would destroy the docks. I'd even imagined it taking out Jenner's escape craft. But destroying the Ekström Ice Shelf? That hadn't been part of my plan.
Another doozy for the old résumé.
"Hands up."
I exhaled. My pistol was in my belt. My machete hung uselessly in its sheath.
Slowly, I turned around. A man stood a few feet away from me. He held a rifle in his hands. His arms trembled. His face quivered with anger.
"Consider this your—” Snow swirled around him. He screamed.
The swirling snow blew away and I saw the man lying on the ground, blood oozing all over his white uniform. The powder around his corpse showed signs of heavy disturbance.
The wolves? How the hell did they get here so fast?
"Cy Reed."
The voice crept down my back like a tarantula. I twisted around. Aaron Jenner stood alone, framed by the snow. His right hand carried a pistol, which he pointed at my head. He looked incredibly serene and yet I detected a hint of insanity beneath his surface.
"Fancy meeting you here," I said.
He took a few steps towards the cliff and glanced at the carnage below. "How'd you do it?"
"I doubt you'd believe me if I told you."
His lip curled. "I should've killed you before."
"Funny. I was thinking the same thing."
He balled up his right fist. Lashed out at my head.
I dodged the blow and rolled away. Then I grabbed my machete and slashed it at him.
He ducked and thrust his palm in my direction.
It struck my sternum. I flew backward. Crashed to the ground. I tried to get up. But his heavy boot stomped on my chest.
The air sizzled as I chopped at his ankle. But his boot slammed onto my arm in mid-stroke. My clenched fingers opened. The blade clattered to the ground.
He kicked it away. Then he lifted me up. "Different fight, same result. Can't say I'm surprised."
A sudden realization came over me. He was right. He was tougher than me in every conceivable manner. He was stronger, faster, and better trained. There wasn't a bookie in the entire world that would take odds on me in a fight, fair or otherwise.
But there was a flaw he'd overlooked, the same one Graham had pointed out to me. There was more to fighting than mere power. Motivation counted too.
I thought of Beverly and Graham. I thought of the innocent people Jenner had killed in his quest to obtain the Amber Room. I thought of the many people who would die if I failed to stop him.
My elbow slammed into his jaw.
He grunted. His fingers loosened.
I pushed him.
He grabbed my right arm and tried to throw me.
My left fist connected solidly with his cheek.
He stumbled backward.
I kept up the pressure, delivering blows to his solar plexus and face. At first, he managed to block most of them.
Then his defenses started to slip.
He gasped as I snaked a punch into his stomach. Then I cracked his jaw with a vicious uppercut.
Jenner changed before my eyes. His neck muscles bulged a bit. His arms gained some mass. Then his eyes started to burn like they were on fire. The stress lines on his forehead were wiped clean. His mouth straightened out. He looked like he was at peace with the world. And yet, one glance into his crazed eyes and I knew he was incapable of any such thing.
I hovered in front of him. My fist moved like lightening. It smashed into his jaw with the sound of shattering glass.
He shuddered. It ran through his body like a wave, causing his arms to jerk in spastic motion. He crumpled to the ground.
You had it backward, Aaron. Might doesn't make right.
Right makes might.
Chapter 107
I heard growls. I rotated in a half circle.
Good lord …
More than a dozen giant arctic wolves surrounded us. They bared their teeth. Foam dripped from their mouths.
I took a few steps back.
They moved a little closer.
I glanced over my shoulder. The Ekström Ice Shelf loomed behind me. Despite the enormous explosion, it had sheared off just a fraction of the gigantic cliff.
Something hit my legs and I fell to the ground. Jenner climbed on top of me. His fists pounded on my head and chest. I raised my arms. But the vicious blows were unrelenting.
His reflexes were astonishing. His power was daunting. He was more monster than man.
The ice beneath me felt extra slippery. I bent my knees and rocked my body back and forth. Then I pulled my torso toward my legs.
Jenner grabbed at my neck. I managed to slip past his fingers. I slid under him and popped up again. Just a few yards separated me from the edge of the cliff.
I scrambled to my machete. As I picked it up, I flicked my wrist in one smooth motion.
He caught the blade. Without a trace of emotion, he wrenched it out of my hand and threw it behind him.
Think, Cy, think.
I darted at him. Delivered a shoulder block. Pain shot through my upper body. Air rushed out of my lungs.
Jenner tipped a few inches. He fought to retain his balance. Then his foot lashed out, connecting solidly with my jaw.
I reeled back, all the way to the edge of the cliff.
I looked into his eyes. They were completely devoid of emotions. Indeed, he was little more than an instinct-driven animal. His humanity, if he still possessed any, hung by a thread.