wouldn’t have seen it that way.”
“And the Pamela I knew ten years ago wouldn’t have blind-sided me in a
press conference like you did yesterday,” he shot back angrily.
She stood. “I guess this concludes this off-the-record interview,
doesn’t it? And it’s still the same old thing. You and the Navy, that’s
all you ever think about.”
He gazed at her, feeling the sense of familiarity and longing wash out
of him. “I guess it is, Miss Drake,” he said softly. “But just
remember–you’re the one who said it first.”
1245 Local
The Spetsnaz stuffed the four holes bored into the ice with plastic to
keep out the blowing ice and snow. That accomplished, the commander
ordered them out into a surveillance patrol. The men split up into their
two-man teams and began a careful survey of their temporary home.
The island itself was twenty miles long and five miles wide, and was
one of the smaller outcroppings of the Aleutian chain. Two men headed
west, examining the first plain that led down to the water. The other two
headed east, climbing gear in hand, and set out to explore the ragged crust
of ice that formed the upper boundary of the island.
The first half mile was relatively easy going, and they needed no more
equipment than their hands to ascend the steadily increasing slope. After
that, however, their progress was broken up by the need to set pitons in
the jagged surface and relay up the slopes one after the other. While
climbing it freestyle without the aid of ropes and climbing gear was well
within their capabilities, their commander had cautioned them that they
were to take no chances. With only five men on the island until
reinforcements arrived, casualties were completely unacceptable.
After a brief discussion, the two Spetsnaz commandos headed for the
highest peak they could find, a promontory that jutted nine hundred feet
above sea level. They spent the better part of an hour climbing it,
checking along each stage of the way to make sure their tie-off points and
ropes were set securely in the ice. Another time of year, any slight
warming might have rendered the surface prone to crumbling, but in December
the surface was as hard as rock.
“You see anything?” the lead climber asked his companion.
The second man shook his head. “No. Not a damned thing could survive
out here, not without the kind of gear we carry.”
The other man nodded agreement. “Always better to check, though,” he
remarked.
“Well, we’ve done that.” He shivered slightly as the wind picked up,
gusting and keening between the sharp crags. “Let’s get back down and
report.”
Suddenly, the other man shook his head and pointed out at the ocean.
Since the wind had died down, the swells and breakers pounding against the
island had dropped down to four to five feet each. Marching across the
ocean in sets of seven, each breaker was flecked with white and capped with
a thin froth of foam, the twenty-knot wind still kicking up whitecaps.
“Look over there.”
The second man raised his binoculars and trained them in the direction
his companion pointed. He swore quietly. “If I hadn’t seen it-”
The first man grunted. “Commander isn’t going to like this.” He
trained his own binoculars in that direction.
Perhaps two miles offshore, a small boat plowed through the waves,
obviously bound for their island. “Where the hell did they come from?”
The other man shrugged. “One of the other islands, I guess. Though
why the hell they’d bother to come here, I don’t know. Nothing to eat.”
“Maybe they’re just fishing.”
His companion shook his head. “I don’t think so. They’ve got some
gear on board, but they’re not maneuvering like a fishing boat would.
Look, they’re headed straight for us.”
The other man sighed. “We wait for them to come ashore and take them
out, or we go back and report?”
“Let’s radio back for instructions. I think I know what the boss is
going to want, but let’s double-check. You know what he told us.”
The other man grinned wolfishly. “Yes. No survivors.”
1338 Local
Kilo 31
“What do you mean, natives?” Rogov demanded.