CHAPTER 41

We climbed aboard the three dogsleds and, once again, slipped, slid, and bounced across the frozen tundra.

As you know, we Kidds have been on some pretty awesome thrill rides in our adventures. But I don’t think any of them can compare to soaring across the ice behind a pack of happily yapping dogs while breathing in the crisp, clean Arctic air. (Except, you know, when one of the dogs had to do its business; then the air got a little polluted.)

“When we come to a turn,” said Bob, our driver, “lean into it or we will all be eating snow. You will see.”

So Beck and I leaned into every turn, and Bob did the same, standing up behind us with one foot hovering over the ice-brake bar.

The other two dogsleds were ahead of us. But suddenly, I heard dogs barking—behind us!

I whipped around.

We were being chased! By two guys on dogsleds. They were dressed in speckled white Arctic camo, just like the elite Airborne soldiers we’d met the day before.