her hand, she clutched it to her chest.
Men pushed past her, grabbing lines and leaping free as fast as the ropes themselves were unfurled. The cabin emptied out of all but three men, including Delta One.
“Man the side guns!” the leader barked.
Already in place, two soldiers swung up huge cannons by the doors.
“Strafe on my command!” Delta One ordered. “Full perimeter fire!”
Jenny risked leaning forward to stare below. The smoke from the rocket attack had begun to disperse. Below, she spotted the off-loaded men. White-camouflaged figures scurried and dropped to bellies.
“Fire!” Delta One ordered.
The guns roared, chattering, spitting fire. Spent cartridges dropped like brass rain. Below, the ice was torn apart in a wide swath around the men, protecting them.
A lone soldier, Russian, fled from a hidden bunker in the ice. He was cut in half by the gunfire, staining the ice red like a squashed bug on a windshield. There seemed to be no other survivors out on the ice.
“Take us lower,” Craig ordered the pilot, still on the general line.
The Seahawk descended, retreating slightly to put the ground forces between them and the mouth of the station.
Delta One held one of his earphones firmly to his head. “Reports coming in!” he relayed. “Surface is ours! Station’s entrance under heavy guard!”
“Is it safe to land?” Craig asked.
“I’d rather keep the bird in the air until the station is taken,” Delta One answered. “But fuel’s a concern. We’ve a long haul back to Alaska.
“What? Already? Who is it?”
The helicopter turned as it hovered. Jenny spotted the figure a hundred yards off. He stood out against the snow, though traces of smoke still smudged across the view. He was wearing a green jacket, bright against the snow. Even across the distance, she recognized the faded coat. She had washed, mended, patched, ironed the damn thing for ten years.
She could not keep the joy and amazement from her voice. “It’s Matt!” A sob of relief followed.
The general channel was still open. Craig heard her. “Jen, are you sure?”
Delta One spoke up from across the cabin. “Sir, there’s a boy with him.”
Now brought to her attention, she saw the child clinging to Matt’s leg. He kept one arm around the boy; the other held a pole with a scrap of white parka waving from it.
“Land!” Craig ordered.
The Seahawk began its descent.
Delta One urged caution. “Perhaps we should remain airborne until the matter is cleared up.”
“He’s been sent out as an envoy. We may be able to use this to our advantage.”
Fear wormed through Jenny’s relief. Since the beginning, she and Matt had been pawns in this game between superpowers. It seemed their duty was not over yet.
The skids settled onto the ice. Snow swirled and eddied around the craft. The rotors slowed.
Delta One passed on an order to the pilot. “I want this engine kept hot.”
“Yes, Commander.”
Craig squeezed back from the cockpit into the main cabin. “We’ll leave the journals here.” He pointed at Delta One. “They’re going to be your responsibility to guard.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“I’m going to meet that man out there. He’s pulled my butt out of the fire often enough. Let’s see if he can do it again.” He turned to Jenny. “I’d prefer you to stay put.”
“Like hell I will.” She unbuckled her seat harness. They’d have to shoot her to keep her here.
Craig watched her a moment, plainly judging her sincerity, then shrugged. He probably preferred all his targets together anyway.
The pair climbed out of the Seahawk and onto the ice. They ducked under the rotors and were met by a trio of Delta Force team members, who were moving forward under an armed escort.
Jenny barely noticed these others. Her eyes were on the figure standing thirty yards from the station opening. Matt! She had to restrain herself from running toward him. She feared such a sudden action would get them both shot.
So she kept to the group, flanked and led by the soldiers. They crossed the ice, passing beyond the circle of defense and out into neutral territory.
Matt was down on one knee, sheltering the boy, his attention on the child. The little guy hugged Matt. He was swaddled from head to toe in someone’s parka, wearing it like a full-length greatcoat. The sleeves hung to the ground. In Matt’s arms, he wiggled around to stare wide-eyed at the approaching party.
Jenny saw the boy’s face clearly for the first time: the black hair, the large brown eyes, the tiny features. She tripped, her legs going suddenly weak. “Tyler!”
Matt had his hands full with the boy. As soon as they had stepped out of the tunnel and into the wind, Maki had clung to him like an eel. The explosions and roar of the gunship’s 50mm weapons had already spooked the kid. And now out in the open, he acted agoraphobic, panicking at the wind and snow. Matt could guess why. He had probably spent all his young years isolated below, possibly even limited to Level Four. Here in the open, with the entire world spread out around him, he came unhinged.
He needed something to cling to, an anchor — and that was Matt.
Matt hardly noted the approach of the others. He had spotted Craig among the soldiers, then had to keep Maki from bolting back toward the station.
The familiar cry tore him around.
From out of the group of soldiers, Jenny shoved free. Her eyes were wild, but she quickly collected herself as she stepped out. She recognized her mistake as soon as she uttered it. Pure reflex, Matt understood.
“His…his name’s Maki,” Matt gasped out as he stood. The child clung to his knee, but Matt didn’t object this time. His legs weak from the relief of seeing Jenny alive, he needed the boy’s support now.
She rushed at him.
Matt didn’t know what to expect, cringing slightly at her approach.
Then she was in his arms, pulling tight to him, her own arms around his neck. It came so naturally that it surprised Matt. She fit to him, as if she always belonged there. It was as if no time had passed between them at all. Drawing Jenny even tighter to him to make sure it wasn’t all a dream, he smelled her hair, the nape of her neck. She was real…she was in his arms.
She sobbed in his ear. “Back at the base…Papa…”
Matt stiffened. John wasn’t with her, or on the helicopter. Her father had been left back at Omega. From Jenny’s reaction, Petkov’s earlier report had not been a lie. The place
“Jenny, I’m so sorry.” Even to him, the words sounded lame. All he could do was offer her his strength, his shoulder, his arms.
She shook in his grip. Words reached up to him, whispered, meant for his ears only. “It was Craig. Don’t trust him.”
Matt’s fingers clutched her parka. He stared past Jenny to the figure in the familiar blue parka. He kept his face stoic, pretending he hadn’t heard the words whispered in warning.
It was all true. Everything.
He slowly peeled himself from Jenny, but he kept one arm around her.
Craig stepped forward. “Matt, it’s good to see you alive. But what’s going on? What are you doing out here?”
Matt fought back the urge to punch the man square in the face. But such an action would only get him killed.
