[MISSION DAY 3, FEBRUARY 18, 2033]
[0640 hours local time]
[Little Diomede Island, Bering Strait]
Price awoke to the sound of gunfire. Or had that just been part of a dream?
The lights were low in the sleeping quarters, but she could see Barnard, sound asleep on a bunk on the opposite wall. On the bunk above her, Wall’s head was visible.
Was the gunfire real? It hadn’t woken the others.
She checked the time on her wrist computer and was angry to see that her one-hour nap had turned into more than six hours of sleep.
She rolled out of the bunk, snatching up her coil-gun on the way to the control room.
The Tsar was in the control chair as he had been earlier. He looked bleary, as though he, too, had dozed off.
“Did you hear those gunshots?” Price asked as she entered.
The Tsar looked up at her in surprise. “Price? You’re here?”
“Where else did you think I’d be?” she asked.
“Then who is that in the hangar with Monster?” the Tsar asked, pointing to two glowing dots on the movement sensor.
Price swore. She keyed her comm. “Monster, is Bowden in there with you?”
“No, my dude,” came back the reply. “Am alone.”
“No, you’re not,” Price said.
The Tsar was already halfway out of his chair.
“No, stay here,” she said. “Wake up the others.”
She was already running for the tunnel to the hangar.
Monster circled the hovercraft carefully, the magnum in one hand and a heavy wrench in the other. He could see no one in the hangar, and there was nowhere to hide, except perhaps up on the hovercraft. Was Price sure? He had been busy connecting up the tubing according to Barnard’s instructions, and someone could have been sneaking around the hangar behind his back.
He had sent the others off to grab a short sleep. They all needed it. He had been certain that he was alone.
He was about to key the comm and ask the Tsar to check when the sound of running footsteps in the tunnel made him look in that direction.
He froze.
The tunnel emerged into the hangar on the west side of the building. There was no trapdoor, just a guardrail so you couldn’t accidentally fall in. At the base of the guardrail were two claymore mines. Armed and ready. Anyone who came up those stairs was going to get their head blown off.
“Price!” he shouted. “Stop!”
Then a locomotive hit him from behind.
The magnum went flying across the floor in one direction, the wrench in another. Monster hit the concrete floor, hard.
Able was tall, not broad but a mass of sinewy strength. Monster had no idea where he had been hiding. Nor did he care. All that mattered was breaking the grip of the man, whose arm was around his neck, cutting off his air. He was pinned to the ground under Able’s weight.
He twisted in the man’s arms, trying to breathe, to call out to Price, but no air came.
Price stopped halfway up the staircase. Stop, Monster had said. He had said that for a reason. But why? She could hear the sounds of a struggle above her. She took another step, peering above her for any sign of danger. There! At the base of the guardrail. The deadly gray shape of a claymore mine, triggered by motion. One step higher and she would have been dead.
Still the sounds of fighting came from above her. She would have to go around.
“Tsar!” she shouted, running back the way she had come. “Open the main hangar doors!”
Monster let go of the other man’s arm and brought his hands in close to his chest, in the push-up position. He pushed down and inch by painful inch lifted himself, and Able, off the ground. When he reached the full stretch of his arms, he twisted again, dropping one arm so that he and Able crashed to the floor on that side. Able’s grip loosened momentarily as they landed, and Monster was ready. He pulled the man’s arm away from his neck with both hands and tucked his chin to his chest to stop him from doing it again. Able’s arm wrapped across his mouth, but Monster could breathe again, through his nose, sucking in huge lungfuls of air.
A blast of cold air hit him and snow swirled around him. The main hangar doors were slowly starting to open.
He pushed himself over on his back, lying on top of Able, who was refusing to let go. He put his legs flat on the floor on either side of the man, and lifted himself up off the ground, then thrust downward. Being shorter than the tall man, his backside drove into Able’s belly, winding him. Able gasped, and in that instant Monster twisted again, breaking free and rolling away from his attacker.
Able was fast, though; he was on his feet like a cat and diving across the floor. The magnum! Monster realized. He was after the magnum. Monster got to his feet and began to run, but he was a lifetime too late.
Able got there first. His hand found the magnum, even as he was still sliding across the floor, and it began to swing around toward Monster. The gun came up in agonizingly slow motion. The black hole that was the muzzle looked like the entrance to a tunnel. A very long, dark tunnel. Any second Monster expected to see the flash of light that would lead him to another long dark tunnel from where there was no return.
But the gun didn’t fire.
The magnum began to drop again as Able looked down in surprise at the metallic head of an Inupiat dart that was now protruding from his throat.
A dark shadow flitted across the half open doors, silhouetted by the floodlights outside.
The White Wolf had finished his hunt.