NICK AWOKE IN a flash of panic. A single, searing thought resounded in his mind: Did they still have the transmission relay equipment?
He knew that it had been in the back of one of the trucks, the same truck he and his drones had ridden into the base on, but he couldn’t remember if that was the one they had now or the one he’d had to ditch during their escape.
He swung open the truck cab door—it squeaked the way only old, metal-on-metal doors could. Slumped over in the passenger seat, Lusa bolted awake and said, “What’s wrong?”
“I just gotta check something,” Nick said. His heart pounded from fright, but he didn’t want to worry her for nothing. It was a coin toss, he told himself. A fifty-fifty chance.
When he got to the back of the truck, he threw open the draping canvas and squinted into the shadows of the bed. He climbed up the rear bumper, and once he’d stuck his head inside, he made out the antenna and transceiver piled up in a forward corner.
He wiped real sweat from his brow as he exhaled in relief.
“Still got it?” Lusa asked from behind him.
He turned and saw her grinning in the morning sunlight. He jumped down. “How’d you know what—”
“You’re not the only one with a brain around here,” she teased. “I checked it last night when I…when I was getting ready for bed.”
He suppressed a chuckle, amused at her for not wanting to say that she had gone out to pee. On the one hand, she wanted to be seen as a warrior, an equal in this life or death struggle. But she also wanted to retain her modesty. It was endearing to Nick.
His warm fuzzy feeling shifted into dread as he turned and looked south. They were heading into danger, and he hoped they were both left standing when it was all said and done. He couldn’t afford warm and fuzzy feelings right now.
“Guess we better get a move on,” he said.
“I guess so,” came her response. “Right after breakfast.”
He smiled, then added, “And coffee.”
It was only then that Nick realized how much they would have been up a creek had they been driving the wrong truck. Not only would they not have the transceiver and antenna, they also would be without food and water and would have been forced to radio back to Vaughn for help.
After breakfast, the convoy drove south alongside the pipeline. Fortunately, during this stretch the pipeline closely paralleled the Dalton. It was unlike the more mountainous portions of the pipeline further north. Nick was grateful they didn’t have to choose between scaling mountains to stay with the pipeline or abandoning their vehicles and walking the highway on foot.
When it was close to lunchtime, Nick spotted a structure in the distance. It was hazy, the late summer sun making waves in the air, but he recognized it none the less. It was Fairbanks’s tallest building, the Polaris building. Nick remembered it having a red blinking light on it before the update, much like the one that was still working back at the vault in Deadhorse.
He thought the first sign of Fairbanks would fill his heart with dread—he surely hadn’t been looking forward to this part of the mission. But it didn’t. He felt a subtle boost, a release of dopamine and hope as he considered that they were almost there and that if they could pull this off, things could be different. The life he wished he had with Lusa could be his. Plus, this meant they were getting close to the fourth pump station, and that meant one more thing: they should be close enough to make radio contact with Jimmy.
Moments later, Nick and Lusa realized they were nearing the fourth station. Up ahead, a deeply recessed gravel road cut underneath the pipeline. And they knew that the pump station lay out of view, west between the pipeline and the Dalton.
Nick stomped the gas pedal and charged the truck toward their penultimate hurdle.
“Shouldn’t we…um, think about how we’re going to do this?” Lusa questioned.
Had it been the first or second station—heck, if they hadn’t gone through what they had at the base, Nick would have agreed. But he was over this, and he had complete confidence in Delta Three to handle the situation.
“Watch this,” he said, before turning right under the pipeline and driving into the pump station. As soon as they’d stopped, he saw the first door from one of the nearby shacks fly open. They know we’re here, he thought.
“Delta Three, clear this station of crazies. Go!”
Immediately, four of Nick’s drones jumped out the back of his truck and began engaging hostiles.
“Let’s see if our boys can play nice together,” Lusa said. “Bravo Squad, engage crazies. Assist Delta Three.”
Then her team joined the fray. The combined forces worked together seamlessly. If Nick hadn’t spent a few days with his drones, he wouldn’t have been able to tell the two teams apart. He noticed one new distinction: the drone named Three had picked up new armament. Nick didn’t know when it had happened or why Three had decided on it, but the new gun that he carried was oversized and heavy. It was an M249 magazine fed squad automatic weapon (SAW).
Nick laughed when he saw a single crazy—apparently the last one—charge Three’s position. Three started up the machine gun, and Nick saw the tip of the barrel lift from the recoil. The heavy machine gun chut chut chutted, first ripping up dirt and gravel before finding its target and turning the approaching beast into hole-riddled dead meat.
Nick and Lusa watched the camp for signs of life. Delta and Bravo continued searching buildings, checking behind structures, but gone was the gunfire. And when several of the drones returned to the truck, Nick knew the sweep was complete.
“That was easy,” he said.
“Yeah,” Lusa agreed. “I hope Fairbanks goes this smoothly.”
Nick knew better than to hope for that. A smooth time wasn’t an option. Survival—that would be a good goal. The two of them still possessing life and limbs—that would be something to hope for. But wishing for more was counterproductive, he believed. It was like a heavyweight champ hoping he doesn’t have to get punched in a title fight. Getting banged up was part of the deal, and they were about to enter a war zone. No, correction—they were about to create a war zone. And war meant casualties. Plain and simple.
They coordinated their efforts, instructing their teams on how to set up the transceiver relay and hook up the generator to the existing micro-refinery. Nick thought about filling up their vehicle’s fuel tanks—the truck was about half full—but he knew they were close enough to Fairbanks that it wouldn’t matter.
After the blinking light on the tower came on, they both looked down to their command displays. Soon their screens showed the new connection link up with the existing relay. And then, much to Nick’s satisfaction, a new series of connections appeared, showing the rest of the pump stations south of Fairbanks all the way to Valdez.
“Jimmy did it,” Nick pronounced. “He got the rest of the relays up.”
“That’s good news,” Lusa agreed.
“You bet it is. Now, the chain of towers is complete and even if one goes down, Vaughn said the towers can still make the connection. Every other one could go black and the network would still work.”
They both heard a sound over their headsets that was brand new. They looked at each other questioningly as if the other one had done something to create the soft electronic birdcall they both heard. Finally, Nick saw the INCOMING CALL message light up on his display.
Hoping it was his brother, he hurried to smash the button and open up the shortwave channel.
“Hello,” Nick said.
“Nick, you did it.” It was Vaughn’s voice, and Nick was a little disappointed. Still, the congratulatory tone made the moment a positive one.
“Yeah, I guess so,” he replied.
“And Lusa’s there with you?”
Nick knew that Vaughn already had the answer, that his network triangulated their positions. “Yeah, she’s here.”
“Hi, Vaughn,” Lusa chimed in.
“Great,” Vaughn said, “It’s wonderful to know you’re both alright. As I’m sure you can see, the transmission relay network is complete, which means we should be able to patch Jimmy in if he’s got his ears on.”
Nick snickered. That was the kind of expression his brother liked to use, old trucker CB jargon, and here was Dr. Craig saying it. But Nick knew the real reason he laughed was because of positive anticipation of hearing his brother’s voice again.
Seconds later, Nick and Lusa heard a pop and crackle followed by the tail end of a transmission: “…little late, don’t you think? What took you guys so long?” It was Jimmy’s voice.
“Little brother,” Nick said, “we hit a few snags, but we’re good now. Lusa and I are both here at the fourth station.” Nick had eyed Lusa knowingly when he had said snags. He hoped the army base didn’t come up, though he knew Vaughn might have noticed their detour if he had been monitoring them closely.
“Better late than never,” Vaughn said. “Tell me, you three, how is everyone? Are you ready to proceed with the plan?”
There was a slight pause over the airwaves, and Nick and Lusa looked at each other, taking stock of their resolve.
“I’m ready,” said Jimmy. “These drones are awesome. Nothing could touch us down here. Let’s do this.”
Jimmy’s exuberance was both refreshing and made Nick cringe. It was the wrong attitude to have; what they were up against shouldn’t ever be taken on lightly. For what it was worth, Nick knew that Jimmy’s part probably would be easier or, at least, would involve less direct conflict with crazies. But Nick and Lusa would have their hands full.
“Yeah, I think we’re good,” Lusa said. Nick looked at her, surprised by her grabbing the reins.
“Alright. That’s good to hear,” Vaughn said. “From now on, our communications should remain crystal clear. So, if you get in over your head, you need to let me know. I’ll do what I can to assist you from my end.”
Nick interpreted Vaughn’s message: it really meant, you’re on your own, because Vaughn was several hundred miles away on his ship in the Prudhoe Bay. Or at least, that’s where he’d said he would be after dropping Jimmy off in Valdez. For some strange reason, Nick noticed he couldn’t get a ping on Vaughn’s position on the map. He understood it was almost certainly by design. Nothing about Vaughn or his plans were left up to chance.
“Wish us luck,” Nick said ironically. “We’re going to need it.”
“Just keep to the script,” Vaughn admonished. “You should be fine if you follow the plan exactly.”
Nick took Vaughn’s words to mean that he knew about their movements to the army base. It was a wink and nod indicating Vaughn was the one in charge, the all-seeing eye of Horus who meted out justice and mercy as he saw fit.
Nick wanted to push back, to argue that it was easy for Vaughn to say that, out of harm’s way on his floating castle. But he bit his tongue.
“Moving on to Fairbanks,” Lusa said, again taking charge when Nick waited too long. He didn’t like it.
“Moving on to Eielson Air Force Base,” Jimmy announced. “Nick, I’ll radio you from there before you pull the trigger.”
Now it was Nick’s turn to send some childish trucker talk his brother’s way, something he knew would make him smile. “Roger that, good buddy. I’ll catch you on the flip side. Delta Three, out.”
“Charlie Five, out,” came Jimmy’s cheerful response.
“Bravo Squad, out,” Lusa spoke, joining in the pretense.
Surprisingly, Vaughn didn’t speak. Nick imagined that the always serious scientist was puking his guts out over the ship’s bow, repulsed by their childishness and the fact that he had entrusted this operation to three kids who hadn’t been old enough to buy alcohol or rent a car before the update. Yet here they were, handling drones, using state-of-the-art technology, and saving the world.
Lusa, taking the lead once more, touched Nick’s hand. As before, the electric shock rose up his arm. She leaned over to repeat the ritual, but Nick turned his head at the last second and kissed her on the mouth. She pulled back, surprised but with a grin.
“For luck,” Nick said. “We’re going to need all we can get.” Then he leaned in and kissed her again, knowing it might be the last chance he’d ever get.