The Silent Sea (2010)

He went straight for the blonde, whose name was Sue, and pushed back her hood to reveal her cherubic face. He whipped up his H&K and aimed it point-blank between her eyes. No one would ever know if he intended to fire. Linc dropped him with a three-round burst.

In a fit of inspiration, Eddie raised his own machine pistol and loosed an entire magazine into the air. The soldiers were nervous, had no information about what was going on, and had doubtlessly been told since their arrival that American commandos would be hitting them any day. Even the most seasoned veteran would be panicky right about now, so a moment after Eddie's burst some young recruit on the other side of the base saw a shadow he was certain was a Green Beret and opened fire. Like opening a flood-gate, men began shooting indiscriminately, the chatter of autofire rising above the roar of the burning gas plant and the shriek of the wind.

Linc got it immediately. He toed the corpse. This poor sap got hit by his own guys.

That's how it'll read. I'll be surprised if they actually don't shoot a few of their own themselves.

They took off again and made it to the dock moments later. The gunfire didn't let up one bit, which worked to their advantage right until the instant a stray bullet caught one of the scientists in the leg. He crashed to the ground, clutching at the wound and moaning.

It wasn't a life-threatening wound, at least at that moment, so Linc picked him off the snow and threw him over his shoulder with barely a break in stride.

The Nomad had drifted a bit out from under the dock, so Eddie had to haul it back on its line. He jumped aboard and opened the hatch.

Juan? he called, even as he lowered himself into the craft. The Chairman wasn't back yet.

Eddie, Linc said from the top of the hull. Help me here.

The former SEAL lowered the injured man through the hatch. His pant leg was stained with blood, and more of it dripped from the wound. His femoral artery had been nicked. He laid the injured scientist on one of the padded benches and was about to get to work on the wound when another of the prisoners leapt down into the submersible and shouldered him aside.

I'm a doctor.

Eddie didn't need to hear anything further. He scrambled forward to the cockpit and threw himself into the pilot's seat.

Max, can you hear me? he said into his mike, while he got busy prepping the sub for its return to the Oregon.

Any sign of Juan? Hanley asked.

No. We're loading onto the Nomad now. He isn't here.

The silence stretched to fifteen seconds. Twenty. Max finally asked, How long do you think you can hang there?

I don't think at all. One of the scientists was shot. Looks like he could bleed out. He needs to be in the OR as fast as we can get him there. Whenever there was a mission under way, Dr. Huxley and her staff were standing by in Medical ready to treat anything that came their way.

Eddie glanced over and down the length of the submersible. Already the bench seats were full, and people were starting to sit on each other's laps. It didn't help that the wounded man took up four places while the doctor worked to save his life. They remained quiet, but all of them threw smiles Eddie's way when they caught his eye.

Doc, Eddie called. It's going to take a half hour to reach our ship, but there's a level-one trauma team standing by. What are his chances? Another man's life might depend on your answer.

The physician, a Norwegian on sabbatical down there in Antarctica because of his thirst for adventure, took his time and considered all the variables. If it is as you say, this man will live if we leave in the next five minutes.

Eddie turned back to his radio. Max, I can give Juan ten minutes, then we have to go. He figured the doctor would have given himself a little cushion.

Every second you can spare. You hear me? Every second.

Twelve minutes later, the sub sank into the black waters of the bay.

Cabrillo hadn't shown.

The Silent Sea

Chapter TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY-SIX HOURS ELAPSED BEFORE THE WEATHER WAS clear enough for the Argentine government to send down another C-130 Hercules. In that short time, Antarctica reminded the men left stranded on the peninsula why humans were merely temporary interlopers on her shores. While not quite forced into ca

General Philippe Espinoza was the first down the ramp when the big cargo plane came to a stop on the ice runway behind the base. Raul Jimenez was waiting and threw him a smart salute. The General had aged ten years in the week since Jimenez had seen him. Thick bags the size of grapes clung to his lower eyelids, and his normally florid complexion had gone pale.

Any word of my son? he asked immediately.

I'm sorry, sir. No. They stepped up into a waiting snowcat. It is my duty to report that a group of four men were seen entering the gas-processing plant just a few minutes before the accident. Nothing of their remains has been found.

Espinoza took this news like a body blow. He knew his son would never abandon his post, so the odds were that Jorge had been one of the four. First my wife and now this, he muttered.

Your wife? Jimenez asked too quickly.

Espinoza didn't pick up on the young Lieutenant's enthusiasm, and such was his state of mind that he actually explained himself to a subaltern. She took our children and left me. Worse, she has betrayed me.

Jimenez had to fight to keep the emotion from his face. Maxine had left him, and he knew she had done it so they could be together. His heart rate went into overdrive. The news was the happiest he had ever heard, so the next words out of the General's mouth were especially painful.

I managed to get two agents to meet her plane when it landed in Paris after I was told by customs that she had left the country. She was met by two men and was taken immediately to the head-quarters of the DGSE.

He knew that was the French spy agency, their version of the CIA.

Espinoza continued. I don't know if she was their agent all along or if they turned her, but the truth is unavoidable. She is a spy.

At that instant, Jimenez understood that she had gotten as much information from him as she had the General. He recalled that last time, along the banks of the stream, when he had told her about abducting the American professor and how she was being kept in the Espinozas' Buenos Aires apartment. Maxine had relayed that information to their superiors, and they had arranged her rescue.

And now my Jorge is dead. He fought to contain his grief and finally managed to compose himself. Tell me this was the work of the Americans so that I may have my revenge.

I have been working closely with Luis Laretta, the director, and Commander Ocampo, who is the first officer aboard the Admiral Brown. Our preliminary conclusion is that the ship's anchor came loose, which allowed the vessel to drift into the gas plant and cause the explosion. Secondary fires destroyed three other buildings, including a workshop and the dormitory we were using to house the scientists we had taken from other bases.

Doesn't that strike you as too convenient? The two things the Americans want, the base reduced to ashes and the prisoners set free?

Sir, they weren't freed. They all died in the fire, their remains burned to bits of charred bone. All told, there were sixteen fatalities, not including the foreigners. Eight were on the bridge of the cruiser, four plus a sentry in the plant, two died in the fire with the prisoners, and two more were killed when men panicked and started shooting at shadows. That last piece of news was especially hard to deliver because Jimenez had been in charge, and the lack of discipline reflected on him. We have found absolutely no evidence that this was anything more than a tragic accident.