Ahead, another figure rose from a crouched position in the passageway.
Gray ran up to her. “Karen, are you okay?”
The base commander looked dazed, momentarily stunned. Then her blue eyes focused, going angry rather than scared.
“What the bloody hell?” she blurted out.
“We’re under attack.”
She made to push past him. “We must get out a mayday.”
Gray caught her around the midsection, stopping her. He heard the timbre of the aircraft’s engines growing louder. He dragged her toward the recreation module.
“No time,” he warned.
“But—”
“Trust me.”
Gray didn’t have time to explain, so he rushed her to the end of the bridge, half carrying her. As he reached the far door, it opened before him. Kowalski appeared, filling the threshold. It looked like he had Jason equally in hand.
“Back inside!” Gray yelled.
As Kowalski moved out of the way, Gray charged through and shoved Karen toward his partners. He slammed the door behind him—just as another pair of explosions shook the entire module. Glassware fell from shelves in the dining area, and several of the triangular panes of window cracked into splinters from the concussion.
Gray stared out the porthole window in the door. The far end of the connecting bridge had been blasted away. A crater also smoked in the flank of the command module.
Right where the communication room was located.
Karen had rejoined him, looking over his shoulder.
“They’re isolating us,” Gray explained. “First they took out the plane, eliminating the only way off the ice. Then when I heard the plane coming this way, I knew they would target communications next, to further cut us off from the outside world.”
“Who are they?”
Gray pictured the team that had assaulted DARPA headquarters. The Twin Otter in the sky had been white, a common color for arctic combat operations. He imagined a ground assault was imminent.
“Do you have any weapons?” Gray asked.
Karen turned the opposite direction. “In the caboose. The last module of the station. But we don’t have many.”
He’d take too few versus none.
By now, others had gathered around, including Barstow, along with a handful of frightened-looking researchers.
“How many others are inside the station?” Gray asked, leading them across the dining hall.
Karen surveyed those with them, clearly doing a head count. “This time of year, no more than another five or six, not counting the work crew already outside.”
Gray reached the far side and hauled open the door to the next bridge. “Keep moving! Module by module! All the way to the rear!” He waved everyone through, then ran alongside Karen. “Does the station have an intercom system, a way of dispatching a general alarm?”
She nodded. “Of course. It’ll also radio to anyone out on the ice.”
“Good. Then once we reach the last module, order an evacuation.”
She glanced at him with concern. “With the sun down, the temps outside will drop precipitously.”
“We have no other choice.”
It had grown quiet outside. No further blasts. He pictured the Twin Otter circling to land. He had no doubt an assault team would be offloaded soon. Without any means of communication, they were unable to request help, while the attackers would have all night to search the station or merely set charges and blow each module to hell.
As Gray formulated a plan, his retreating group burst into the next module. It was the station’s living quarters, made up of a series of small bedrooms painted in bright colors. They collected another station member there: a small panicked-looking young man wearing glasses. They continued onward, passing through two more research modules. Both had been packed up and closed down for the winter.
Finally they reached the last car of this icy train. It was clearly a storage space.
“Where are the weapons?” Gray asked.
“Near the back door,” Karen said and tossed a set of keys to Barstow. “Show them.”
While he obeyed, Karen stepped over to an intercom on the wall, quickly tapping in a code. Gray followed Barstow as Karen sounded a general alert, warning any other station members inside to evacuate. To those outside, she instructed them to stay away.
Barstow led them to a locker on the back wall and used Karen’s key to open the double doors. Gray stared at the rows of rifles and handguns, trying not to show his disappointment at the meager number of weapons, but then again, what sort of threat would this base normally face? There were no land-based predators out here, nothing but penguins and some seals. The few rifles and guns were likely meant to deal with any unruly guests of the station—not a full-on assault.
Gray passed around the six Glock 17 pistols and shouldered one of the three assault rifles. It was an L86A2 Light Support Weapon. He passed another to Kowalski and the last to Barstow. To the side, Jason loaded his Glock with experienced skill.
Gray stepped to the window in the last door. Outside, night had fallen on this short day, dropping a blanket of darkness over them. Beyond the hatch, a small platform led to a ladder that descended down to the ice.
“Kowalski and Barstow, once we’re on the ground, we’ll try to discourage the plane from landing. Failing that, we’ll move to a defensible position.” Gray turned to Jason. “You lead the others away. Put as much distance between here and the station as you can.”
The kid nodded. His eyes looked alert, frosted by a healthy fear, but ready to move.
Karen returned, bearing an armload of handheld radios. “Grabbed these, too.”
Gray nodded at her resourcefulness, then took one and pushed it into his parka’s pocket. “Pass the others around.”
Once they were ready, Gray took the lead. He hauled open the hatch to the dark, frigid night. As the first blast of cold hit his face, he suddenly doubted the wisdom of his plan. Death was as certain out on the ice as it was inside the station. They would need to find shelter and fast—somewhere other than here.
But where?
Another blast erupted, shaking the station. The lights flickered once, then died.
Karen spoke behind him. “Must’ve taken out the generators.”
Gray frowned. Had the enemy eavesdropped on Karen’s alert? Had it triggered this new attack? Or was this the assault team’s final salvo to soften and unnerve their targets before landing?
The continuing drone of the Twin Otter reminded him that any further reservations or hesitation would only worsen their odds. Knowing this, he hurried into the cold, pulling on his gloves, and mounted the ladder. He slid most of the way down and waved for the others to follow.