“Hello?”
“Tamara, it’s Matt.”
She switched to speakerphone. “Hey, Matt. You calling about the latest video? A whole nine minutes this time.”
“Nine and a half,” Bobby said.
“Sorry,” Matt said. “I didn’t know you were putting something up.”
Tamara couldn’t help but frown. They had sent Matt and Rachel an email like they always did before they posted. Matt had even responded with a simple “Thanks.”
Bobby leaned toward the phone. “Fifty-one views before it got pulled down, though I don’t know how many were able to watch it all. Did you get a chance to look at the script for the one we’d like to start this afternoon?”
“Whatever you were planning, you need to table it,” Matt said.
Tamara and Bobby exchanged a concerned look.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“I need you to finish WC.”
For several seconds, neither of them could speak. WC did not stand for water closet. It meant Worst Case, as in the video that would be placed if the worst-case scenario occurred. In other words, the video that would describe to humanity what was happening to them. They had started it months earlier, but had not finished it in hopes it would never be needed.
His voice dry and tentative, Bobby asked, “It’s happened?”
“No. But if it does, it will be soon.”
“How soon?” Tamara asked.
A pause. “Days. Maybe a week. Not much more than that.”
“Are you sure?”
“About as sure as we can be. How soon can you have it ready?”
“We’ll get right on it,” she said, glancing at Bobby.
“A day or two, no more than that,” Bobby added.
“When it’s finished, I want you to close everything up and go to your backup safe house,” Matt ordered. The safe house was a location not even Matt knew, just Tamara and Bobby. “If it looks like things are going to shit and you can’t reach me, upload it. Don’t wait for me to give you the go-ahead.”
“Do you think…do you think we’ll have to upload it?” Tamara said.
The silence stretched out for what seemed like minutes. “Yes.”
The line went dead.
Tamara put her hand on Bobby’s, wrapping it around the side and squeezing tight. He looked at her, the reality of what appeared to be coming reflected on his face.
Then he nodded. “We’d better get to work.”
21
I.D. MINUS 87 HOURS
Ash had been sure they would have crossed the Arctic Circle and been homing in on Bluebird’s location by now, but the imaginary line was still several hundred miles to the north.
Their intent had been to fly from San Diego to Baker Lake in the middle of the Canadian territory of Nunavut, with a quick fueling stop in Winnipeg, just north of the US-Canada border in Manitoba. The weather, though, had a different idea.
Instead of lifting off from Winnipeg within an hour of landing, they ended up staying in the provincial capital for four nights, waiting out first a storm that passed through Manitoba, then one further north, cutting off their ability to get to Baker Lake.
Finally, the weather cleared enough for them to attempt the next leg of the journey. The flight was rough, but they were able to get into Baker Lake with only a few minor bumps and bruises. Waiting at the house that had been arranged for them to stay in were Gagnon and Wright, the two last members of their team.
Ash called everyone together for a meeting in the dining room, where he spread a map of northern Nunavut out on the table.
“The plan is for us to-”
“Excuse me, Captain,” Pax said. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but before we get started, I’ve been in contact with the Ranch and have some news I should share.”
“Of course. Go ahead.”
They all looked expectantly at the oldest member of the team.
“There’s no easy way to put this,” Pax began, “so I’ll just say it straight. There’s been a new outbreak.”
Voices over voices:
“It’s started?”
“Already?”
“Where?”
“When?”
“Should we go back?
Pax gave everyone a few seconds, then held up a hand, silencing them. “The outbreak’s in St. Louis. The good news is, it looks like it’s both isolated and contained.”
“So no cases anywhere else?” Chloe said.
“Not that anyone knows of. What Matt thinks happened is that there was accidental exposure, and that the so-called Implementation Day hasn’t taken place yet.”
“So we’re still on mission here?” Browne asked.
“As far as I’m concerned.” Pax looked at Ash. “Captain?”
“Absolutely. We keep going.”
“If the snow ever lets up,” someone threw in.
Ash pointed at a spot near the southern edge of the map. “This is where we are right now. Tomorrow, weather permitting, we fly to Grise Fiord.” He touched the spot on the map where the small village was. “After that, Mr. Gagnon will fly us out to our first location in a specially modified plane he has there.”
“What
Ash looked down at the map. “Technically, we have three choices. Here, here, and here.” He pointed first at Ellef Ringnes Island, then Yanok Island, then Amund Ringnes Island.
“That’s a lot of ground to cover. We don’t have a lot of time. Any way to rule out any of them?”
Ash studied the map for a second. “The wreckage of the boat was found right about here, correct?” He pointed at a spot south of Ellef Ringes, and looked at Gagnon.
The pilot nodded. “Yeah. Close enough.”
“All right. If it was a setup and they were just trying to fool you, then I’d be inclined to rule out Ellef Ringnes. They wouldn’t set up the crash that close to Bluebird.”
“Unless they were trying to outthink us,” Pax said.
“I’m not going down that road. Rachel was also sure it wasn’t Ellef Ringnes.” Ash moved his finger along the map. “Which would mean it’s either Amund Ringnes or Yanok Island. That cuts away a third of where we need to check. Happy to hear anyone else’s thoughts.”
“Sounds right to me,” Pax said.
“Me, too,” Chloe added.
The others chimed in their agreement.
“So which one do you want to check first?” Gagnon asked.
Ash frowned. “I don’t know. If I guess wrong, we might not have time to adjust.”
Pax put a hand on Ash’s back. “No matter what we do, it’s going to be a coin toss.”
