Deep Ice (30 page)

Suarez was tired. He stood for a moment admiring the view through his Lexan window, and yawned.

“What’s going on out there?” he suddenly asked.

Remo shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll check.” He went into an adjacent office, returning within seconds.

“Those sewer men have started digging up the outside yard,” he said.

“What in hell for?” said Suarez, instantly alert.

“There’s some problem with the drainage.”

“Are we keeping a close eye on them?” said Rudolfo angrily.

“Of course we are. But it’s okay, boss – they’re not armed. Our security people checked them at the gate. Every single one was frisked.”

Suarez was uneasy as he and Remo walked to a side window where they had a clear view of the workers outside. Something was wrong but he couldn’t tell what. Then his eye caught movement beyond the fence.

“What’s that?” he said, pointing. “Who’s over there?”

Remo saw nothing unusual. More of his boss’s paranoia, he reasoned. “I don’t see anything.” He stroked his moustache thoughtfully.

“Arm yourself, Remo. Something’s going on.”

Suarez was as always carrying his laptop. Quickly dropping it onto a nearby side-table, he flipped it open and punched a few keys.

Immediately the gong sounded again throughout the Hacienda.

Security men throughout the building started running from room to room looking for him. One even ducked his head into the large dining hall where Grimes and his men waited.

He looked at them incredulously and had just opened his mouth when. . .

#

Grimes had ducked behind the door as it opened. As the security guard began to speak the SEAL grabbed him and twisted his head.

There was a crunching sound and the man fell dead to the floor.

Grimes pulled the corpse full y into the room and pushed the door closed.

“Time to move out. That fucking gong. I dunno how, but we’ve been noticed.”

He pointed to the door at the opposite end of the room and gave a hand signal. Half the SEAL team headed for the door and opened it careful y. Seeing no one there, they disappeared into the room beyond.

“Stick by me, hero,” said Grimes as he reopened the door beside them and pulled Henry through it. Hoy, Walters and O’Doule followed, their silenced sub- machine guns at the ready. Wake Michaels, the SEAL who’d put on the woman’s suit, took the lead next to Grimes.

They found themselves in a corridor that ran the length of the Hacienda. It was, merciful y, empty. They slunk along it, staying close to the wall s.

A door suddenly opened in front of Michaels and two female employees appeared – maids, by the look of them. Both carried weapons over their shoulder, but they seemed ill-prepared to use them.

The woman’s suit fooled them for a split second before they realized it was being worn by a man.

One of them managed a short squeal, but Michaels grabbed her and, covering her mouth with his hand, pushed her head hard into the wall. She slumped to the floor.

The other woman jumped away, mouth agape, ready to scream, but Grimes’s reflexes were too quick. He shot her between the eyes.

The back of her head exploded, spraying blood on a large portrait hung from the wall.

Henry turned away, gorge rising.

“Jesus, Kai. . .”

A door near them swung open and two security guards erupted into the hall way, spraying bullets. The weapons specialist, Hoy, gave a cry of pain. He collapsed on top of Shep, who yelped in fear.

Before the two men could fire again they were mown down by Grimes and Walters.

Michaels cursed. “What the fuck they firing? These flak jackets are fucking useless.”

Hoy rolled over to face the ceiling, and groaned.

Blood flowed freely from his chest. He started to say something, but died before he could get it out.

“Shit!” said Grimes. “We’re dead if we stay here.”

He chose a door and opened it, showering the room with bullets.

The room was deserted.

Grimes yelled at Henry.

“In here –
fast
!”

Henry was shuddering from adrenaline. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. Walters and Michaels pushed him forward.

Inside the room, Grimes slammed the door and switched on his radio.

“Tom! A.J.!” he snarled into the lip mike. “You hearing me?”

Weapons fire suddenly burst out all over the building. Its echoes seemed to come from everywhere at once.

“Shit!” said Grimes. “This sucks!”

They were in some kind of research lab. Machines and computer consoles as well as racks of equipment were all around. Much of the hardware had suffered from Grimes’s precautionary hail of bullets.

Walters had dragged Hoy’s body in. Grimes, taking the opportunity to reload his weapon, swore at him.

“That’s right – drag Dan around so the fucking blood trail will lead them right to us!”

“I. . .” began Walters.

Before he could say more, the door flew open. Suarez, Remo and two security guards hurled themselves in through it, guns blazing.

Grimes.

Walters.

Michaels.

All three went down in the space of a single heartbeat.

A bullet smashed into Henry’s thigh. He pulled Shep down behind him and then fell over in a heap next to the dog.

A moment later he was looking into the eyes of Rudolfo Suarez.

“You,” said Suarez. “I
know
you.”

Henry clutched his leg. Blood oozed between his fingers. He looked over at the bodies of Grimes and the other dead SEALs.

It was difficult to believe that Grimes, of all people, could be dead. Henry had always assumed the man was somehow utterly unkil able. He felt, to his astonishment, the first signs of grief for the SEAL. Behind all the insults there had been, these past few frantic days, something like the beginnings of a deep friendship.

When he looked back at Suarez the man was pointing an automatic weapon at his face.

“Who
are
you?” screamed Suarez.

Henry pretended he was in too much pain to answer.

Remo studied Henry’s face.

“I remember this guy. And I halfway remember the fucking dog. He’s the one from the ice, Rudy.”

Suarez gaped.

“That’s right. But you were in Santiago, too. With that red-haired bitch.”

Henry looked up at Remo and Suarez and smiled. He let go of his leg.

He was doomed, so he might as well be a pain in the ass. It was what he was best at.

“
Har du en sigarette?
” he said. “Or haven’t you learned to speak Norwegian yet?”

“It
is
him,” said Suarez.

Remo lifted his gun but Suarez stopped him.

“Not yet. We can use him.”

Shep looked at Suarez and bared his teeth, but Henry patted him and gripped the leash tightly.

“Easy, Shep.”

#

Outside the Hacienda a group of US Marines and an elite corps of Chilean Special Forces waited nervously for a communication from the SEALs.

Hayes was there too; he kept glancing at his watch. It had been only fifteen minutes since the start of the incursion. According to plan, the SEALs weren’t due to break radio silence until they had arrested Suarez or needed help. It would be up to the general to decide the next action.

Hayes was confident Grimes would quickly neutralize the terrorists and bring about a swift end to the escapade, but his experience with terrorists taught him to take nothing for granted.

When he heard the garbled transmission from Grimes, he knew something had gone wrong.

And Grimes’s frantic call was punctuated by the pop- pop-popping of automatic-weapons fire from within the building.

Within seconds the general was talking to O’Boyle, the head of the Marines unit.

“Someone’s tipped off Suarez,” said O’Boyle.

“Or they just fucked up.”

“I heard Suarez is a slick bastard,” said the Marine.

“He’s got a rep for being a smartass. It’s gonna be a stand-up fight.”

“Not until I get more intel,” said Hayes. “Let’s not be Custer. We’ve lost our element of surprise.”

“But Suarez doesn’t know about
us
,” argued O’Boyle. “Now’s the time, sir. There could be SEALs that need getting to a hospital, and maybe the terrorists haven’t put it all together yet.”

O’Boyle’s ruddy Irish face was flushed with emotion. He was missing one eye, and wore a black eyepatch to cover the scar. But Hayes saw a man studying him with more concentration than any two eyes could muster.

The lieutenant was overstepping his boundaries for the sake of the men inside the Hacienda.

“What do you recommend, Lieutenant?”

A dark figure ran out of the building and towards the fence. One of the SEALs.

The “government workers” had stopped their charade and taken cover anywhere they could. Now armed with automatic weapons tossed to them by the SEALs, some lay sprawled on the lawn while others pressed against the building.

Close on the heels of the running SEAL came two of Suarez’s security men. As they raised their weapons they were chopped down by a scythe of bullets.

The SEAL sprinted the last few yards and ducked behind the agave bush. When he saw the Marines he smiled grateful y and fell to the ground, gasping for air.

“They’re – they’ve got some hellacious ammo!”

His eyes darted around until they found the general.

“They cut us up bad, sir. Christ – the bullets go through both sides of the vests. What the hell do they have in there?”

Hayes knelt down and looked at the man’s face.

“Listen to me. I need you to think back now. Tell me everything.”

“It’s the ammo, sir,” said the SEAL.

Hayes remembered the soldier as Ricky Peete, a member of Grimes’s squad who’d reminded him of some TV comedian.

“Tell me, Peete, who’s down? And did you get Suarez?”

Speaking in short, jerky phrases, the SEAL spat out what had happened. The Hacienda was bristling with electronics. It had been on high alert when the SEALs had made first contact with the security goons. “We were on ’em like flies. Then suddenly they sniffed us out. Walls didn’t stop those fucking bullets. . .”

He gulped.

“Sir.”

Hayes nodded and patted the man’s leg.

“Glad you made it, Peete. Don’t feel bad. You needed to get this to me. You did ten men’s jobs today, soldier. Now rest awhile and cool off.”

The general squeezed the man’s shoulder as he stood up. He looked at the Hacienda and said nothing for a moment. Then he yelled to the comms people to put in a call to the President via the
Big E
.

An aide approached. “Not to interrupt, sir. . .”

“Go ahead.”

“The biotech data shows three SEALs, er, still living, sir,” said the aide. “The rest are down, sir.”

Hayes cursed and shook his head. “Can you pinpoint the position of the remaining SEALs in the building?”

“Unless they get stripped of their bugs, sir,” said the aide, “that’s a roger.”

#

Despite the pain in his leg, Henry couldn’t help but admire the scenery through the huge picture window. If he was going to die in this room, at least he’d have a nice view to take with him.

Remo wrestled him into a chair and Suarez threw a napkin at him. “Try not to stain the furniture, Mr. . .?”

“Henry Scott Gibbs of the Antarctic. Who’s askin’?”

Suarez smiled. “I guess you deserve to know the name of the man who shot you, Mr Henry Scott Gibbs of the Antarctic. The man who is probably going to kill you before not many more minutes have passed.

“My name is Rudolfo Suarez.”

Suarez looked disappointed when Henry showed no signs of recognizing the name.

“That’s a beautiful dog you have there, Mr Gibbs. A survivor from your sled team?”

Still Henry didn’t answer. He wasn’t about to start a pleasant chat with Suarez. He pressed the napkin to his bleeding thigh. The wound wasn’t all that deep, he was glad to see. Hurt like fuck, though. Apparently the bullet had only grazed his leg. Still, there had been a violent impact. He was sure the leg was broken. “What kind of bullets are you using?”

“Teflon-coated, uranium core,” said Remo, who sat across from Henry pointing a pistol at him.

“I’ll do the questioning here,” said Suarez.

“Interesting to meet you outside of Antarctica, Mr Gibbs. We all look much different without our snow gear, yes?”

Henry just stared at him without responding.

“How did you manage to survive our encounter, and the nuke that destroyed the site?”

“With a little help from my friends,” said Henry, patting Shep’s side.

Rudy looked at Remo. “Ah yes, the dogs that ran away. And were you wearing a bulletproof vest in the middle of the Antarctic?”

“Your bullet hit the radio in my pocket. It just knocked me out.”

Listening, Remo began to wonder if Suarez realized the significance of Henry’s survival. Obviously everyone must now know the identity of the Deep Ice terrorist.

“This is the one who made you, Rudy. Because he survived, the military has everything.”

Suarez drew a deep breath and glanced at Remo, smiling broadly. “I’d appreciate it if you’d shut up.” His voice was ice cold.

“So, Henry Scott Gibbs of the Antarctic,” he continued more warmly, “it looks as though you’ve laid waste to ten years of planning.”

“So sorry,” said Henry with a grin.

The man’s eyes went dead as they stared at him.

Suarez lifted his automatic weapon and sat motionless for what seemed an eternity.

All his life Henry had faced death, but never before had he looked Death himself right in the eye.
It’s not so bad. It’ll be quick,
he thought. Sarah’s face swam into his mind’s eye, and suddenly he felt good as he realized how much he must love her to be thinking about her at a time like this.

Not so long ago he’d been an empty shell with little concern for any man or woman. Everyone who’d ever meant anything at all to him was gone, cruel y drowned in the Atlantic. He’d believed he’d never feel love again. Now everything was different. He’d found out that life, no matter how unfair it may seem, always goes on, and that the basic human feeling called love can survive almost anything.