Ice Hunt

Bratt aimed his gun and fired toward the tents. Matt rolled and hauled his AK-47 around. He aimed, searching for snowy shadows. He fired whenever he saw movement.

Off to the side, Washburn reached a narrow crevasse between two peaks, ready to circle behind the snipers.

Then, as was usual for this day, everything went dreadfully wrong.

By the shaft opening, Je

“On my mark!” Kowalski yelled a few steps away. He and Tom stood in front, bearing flaming Molotovs over their heads.

Five grendels massed ahead of them. The beasts’ approach had stopped as explosion after muffled explosion erupted, sounding as if they were coming from just beyond the next peak. The creatures, tuned to vibrations, were disturbed by the concussions.

“It’s the station,” Tom had said. “Someone’s attacking.”

Kowalski had agreed, “Sounds like grenades.”

The momentary confusion of the beasts had bought them time to light a pair of Molotovs and devise a quick plan.

It wasn’t artful. Simply down and dirty.

Kowalski took the lead, stepping toward the nearest grendel and waving his flaming torch at it.

Lips pulled back in response, baring teeth like a dog. The other grendels retreated a step, edgy now, wary. The lead bull kept his spot, not intimidated by the show.

“This one’s well fed,” Ogden whispered at Je

That was their hope. Take out the leader and maybe the pack will scatter.

Kowalski took another step. Tom dogged behind him.

In a blur, the grendel suddenly leaped at them, roaring.

“Fuck!” Kowalski screamed, and tossed the Molotov toward the monster’s open jaws. He flew backward, bouncing into Tom. They both fell.

The seaman’s aim, though, proved true. The flaming bottle sailed end over end into the creature’s maw. The result was spectacular.

An explosion of burning oil burst from the creature’s jaws, like some fire-breathing dragon. It howled, spitting and hacking out flaming oil. It spun in agony and blind fury. The others fled from the display, bounding away in all directions.

The smell of burning flesh filled the small ice vale.

“Now!” Kowalski screamed, springing to his feet with Tom.

The young ensign had managed to keep his Molotov out of the snow. He whipped it now with the strength of a major-league ballplayer. It arced past the flailing monster and burst farther down the path, flaming more of the trail ahead, warding away any other grendels.

“Let’s go!” Kowalski yelled, taking the lead.

The wounded beast collapsed to the ice, its lungs burned away. Flames still danced from its lips and the two nostrils high on its head. It didn’t move.

Kowalski gave it a wide berth just in case. Tom waved for the others to follow. Je

The party fled through fire and ice, ru

Kowalski had their last Molotovs. He kept a fiery path blazing ahead of them. The grendels scattered out of their way.

Then a scream…

Je

Kowalski had stopped, waiting for them a few yards down. “Sucks, doesn’t it!” They would all have to be careful of such sinkholes. A leg could be easily broken…or a neck.

Zane helped his friend to his feet.

“Shit, that’s cold,” Antony said.

Ice cracked behind him. Up from the hole, a grendel burst forth, battering from below. It lunged and snatched the boy’s leg, biting deep. Zane and Tom were thrown backward as the ice shattered outward. The half-ton beast dropped back into the hole, dragging Antony with it.

He didn’t even have time to scream before he was gone.

Amid cries and shouts, everyone raced forward haltingly. With the snow covering the ice, it was impossible to discern the thi

“They’re pacing us,” Ogden said, panting. “Tracking us under the ice by our footsteps.”

“We can’t stop,” Kowalski said.

No one wanted to. They continued onward, but more slowly. Kowalski bravely took the point. Everyone kept to his footsteps, not wanting to take any u

Je

They would have to be careful.

Je

“Around the next ridge!” Tom called from the back. “The station’s parking lot is just ahead!”

They cautiously increased their pace.

Je

As they made for the opening, gunfire cracked through the whine of winds. Kowalski reached the edge and raised his arm, halting them all while he sca

Tom pulled up next to them. “Someone’s fighting the Russians.”

“Could it be the Delta team?” Amanda asked Craig.

He shook his head.

Kowalski hissed to them. They all moved forward, gathering together. He pointed an arm. Just ten yards from their hiding place rested a Sno-Cat, with snowmobiles and other vehicles lined up just past it.

Beyond the parking lot, Je

It was impossible to tell who was who. Though the snowfall from overhead had died away, the winds continued to blow surface snow in scurfs and eddies, obliterating detail.

Bane suddenly lunged forward, breaking away from the group. He raced between the parked vehicles, heading out toward the open plain.

Je

Beyond the firefight, the glowing entrance to the base shone in the stormy gloom. Figures appeared, limned against the light, pouring out from inside. A major battle was about to begin.

She turned her attention, but Bane was gone, lost among the parked snow craft.

The gunfire grew more intense.

“Now what do we do?” Tom asked.

From his position behind the ice ridge, Matt watched as Washburn was tackled, swamped under three men. She kicked and fought, but it was no use. More soldiers moved out, flanking the entrance. Additional men took up sniping positions within the shelter of the entrance hall.

It wouldn’t be long until Matt and Bratt were outflanked and shot. Matt covered the men near the entrance, trying to keep them from edging into a position from which they could shoot directly at his group. Bratt did the same with the group hiding among the tents.

But they were ru

“I’ll try to draw their fire,” Bratt said. “Make for the vehicles. Try to grab one and head out.”

“What about you?”

Bratt shied from the question. “I’ll do what I can to hold them off you for as long as possible.”

Matt hesitated.

Bratt turned to him, his eyes fierce. “This isn’t your war!”

And it isn’t yours either, Matt wanted to add, but now was not the time for debate. He simply nodded, acquiescing.