‘Make it quick. Out.’ He turned back to Sophia, who had scraped up some loose ice and pressed it to her face. ‘Think you can stand up?’
She jabbed both feet at him. ‘If you were any closer I’d kick your arse.’
‘For fuck’s sake, stop moaning,’ he said, lifting her. ‘I’ve had my face bashed up tons of times, and I never worried about it ruining my looks.’
‘Yes, but you were hardly starting from a high baseline, were you?’
‘Bloody hell, shallow much?’ They picked their way across the cave, using the tripod for support. ‘It didn’t bother you when we were married.’
‘I can only put that part of my life down to temporary insanity.’
‘What, as opposed to the permanent insanity you’ve got now? You’re not a bunny-boiler, you’re a bloody bunny-
‘If you have such a problem . . .’ Sophia tailed off as they heard a low buzzing. ‘Is that the plane? That was quick.’
They emerged in the ice-slathered crevasse, the high walls casting everything into deep, cold shadow. ‘It’s not the plane,’ Chase said, looking south. The noise grew louder, echoing off the walls - revealing two distinct engine notes. ‘Shit! They’ve found us!’
A pair of gleaming black shapes swept over the top of the crevasse and wheeled round under their blood-red rectangular parachutes, heading straight for them.
Chase had seen similar machines before. Invented in New Zealand, home of crazy and dangerous leisure activities, the paracraft were a mutant combination of paraglider and hovercraft, the latter’s main fan used to inflate the fabric wing at takeoff and provide forward thrust like a propeller. The differences between a paracraft and an ultralight were that the former was larger, the squared-off, stubby wings protruding from its sides giving it much greater lift at low altitudes through ground effect - and that its hovercraft base meant it could not only take off and land on almost any terrain, but travel overland at speed by releasing the ’chute.
Making them ideal pursuit vehicles for the Antarctic wastes.
He saw two men in each paracraft: one pilot - and one gunner. The gunner in the lead paracraft was carrying a sniper rifle, while the man in the second aircraft had a Swiss SIG assault rifle.
Sophia started to back into the cave. Chase grabbed her wrist. ‘No, get between those.’ He pointed at several huge boulders of ice that had fallen from the ravine walls.
‘I don’t think we’ll be any better off,’ she said as they hurried down the slope.
‘If they land and trap us in the cave, we’re fucked. At least this way we’ve got some room to manoeuvre.’ The paracraft were three hundred feet away, closing fast. The lead paracraft dipped its nose, descending into the canyon.
Assuming they missed on the first one.
‘Down!’ Chase yelled, dropping the tripod and pulling Sophia behind the fallen boulders. The SIG’s harsh bark filled the crevasse, a three-shot burst blasting chunks from their cover. But the bullets didn’t penetrate it, the millennia-old blue ice compressed almost as densely as stone.
‘Come on!’ He crawled into a narrow gap between two larger blocks. Another burst of gunfire, ice cracking and splintering. He pushed Sophia under the overhang, peering upwards as the rasp of the first paracraft’s engine grew louder - and part of the ice above exploded, hit by a high-power bullet from the sniper rifle. Fist-sized chunks of ice bombarded him. The paracraft roared overhead, a flash of black. The second followed a few seconds later, another burst of bullets pounding their hiding place.
‘Wait there,’ Chase told Sophia, shaking off the shattered ice and scuttling along the narrow passage until he reached a spot where he could see down the crevasse. Keeping low in case the sniper was still aiming back at him, he looked out. The second paracraft, higher up, was rising to breach the top of the crevasse and turn about for another attack, while the first had been forced to continue flying along the ravine.
It wasn’t trying to gain height, though. Instead it was descending rapidly. ‘One’s landing!’ he called to Sophia.
‘I don’t know why you sound so happy about that.’
‘Because as long as they’re in the air, we can’t touch ’em. If they’re on the ground, at least we’ve got some chance of fighting back.’
‘With what? Snowballs?’
The lead vehicle touched down in a cloud of spray, having inflated its rubber skirt just before landing. The parachute collapsed, a huge red flag drifting to the ground as its lines were released. The second paracraft, meanwhile, had reached the top of the ravine, briefly disappearing from sight before swinging round.
Chase quickly unfastened his coat and shrugged it off, ignoring the numerous aches in his upper body. Sophia watched, puzzled. He found a chunk of ice the size of a football and stuffed it into the coat’s hood, bundling the rest of the garment up tightly and holding it below the neck.
Another glance down the crevasse. The first paracraft was making a great skidding turn with a huge feathered trail of ice crystals blowing out behind its main fan. The second dropped towards him.
He ducked back into cover. ‘Okay, stay under there until it goes overhead!’ he shouted. ‘Soon as it’s gone past, throw me the tripod!’
‘The tripod?’ Sophia asked, looking at the metal frame lying nearby. ‘What for?’
‘Just do it!’ Still holding his coat, the cold already biting through his damp clothes, Chase turned back to the opening. The engine note grew steadily louder. Keeping himself behind the frozen boulder, he raised his coat, slowly moving it into the open . . .
The hood blew apart in an eruption of pulverised ice and shredded quilting. Chase yanked the ruined coat out of sight, shaking out the ice and pulling it back on.
The paracraft roared overhead, rasping back up the crevasse. ‘Now!’ Chase shouted, but Sophia was already tossing him the tripod. He grabbed it, then looked down the valley. The first paracraft was racing along the icy surface. Thirty seconds away, less—
He leapt up, jamming one spiked boot against the ice boulder opposite and ascending the narrow gap in a rapid chimney climb until he reached a jagged ledge. Another scramble over a broken outcropping and he was almost at the top.
Engine noise from two directions. The second paracraft had also landed, dumping its parachute. Its gunner thought he had made a kill, and was eager to see the results of his marksmanship. Ahead, the first paracraft was closing. Chase hefted the tripod. He had only one chance, and even that was a long shot. If he failed, then the only weapon he would have really
Closer, closer, the sniper aiming at the base of the boulders, closer—
Chase sprang up and hurled the tripod like a javelin.
It arced through the air, spearing down over the top of the paracraft’s windscreen - and hit the driver, the spiked metal feet stabbing into his face.
He screamed, clawing at the tripod. His hands off the controls, the paracraft charged onwards at full speed, heading straight for the giant boulder. The gunner tried to grab the throttle lever, but by the time he reached the control it was too late.
The paracraft smashed into the wall of ice. The tripod had ended up wedged between the dashboard and the driver’s chest; he was instantly impaled upon it as he was hurled forward by the sudden stop. The gunner fared no better, whiplashing face first through the windscreen. The engine kept running despite the crash, blindly grinding the vehicle against the ice.
Chase slithered down the frozen mass, landing beside the paracraft and reaching in to pull back the throttle. The engine note dropped to a dull rasp, just enough to keep the skirt inflated. ‘Sophia, come on!’ he shouted as he dragged the two bodies from the vehicle. ‘I’ve got us a ride!’
Sophia emerged from the boulders. ‘The other one’s still coming.’
‘Yeah, but we’ve got guns now - that should even things up a bit.’ The scope of the sniper rifle had been broken in the crash, but the driver’s weapon, a SIG SG-551 assault rifle, seemed undamaged. ‘It’s not like hunting pheasants, but you remember how to shoot, don’t you?’
‘Yes, but I may be a little rusty - for some strange reason, they never let me use the practice range at