Arctic Wargame (Justin Hall # 1) (17 page)

* * *

“Oh, crap,” Justin shouted.

Even if his voice was not loud enough, the noise of the wheelchair crashing against the wall was a good enough reason for Sergeant Brown to jump to his feet. He slid open the door and barged into the room, stepping right into the trap, as Justin welcomed him with a blow of an aluminum tube to the back of his head. The sergeant took a plunge next to Justin’s bed.

“Sorry about that, Sergeant,” Justin whispered, leaning over the sergeant’s body. “I just need your clothes, sir. And your gun.”

Chapter Fifteen

Thule, Greenland

April 13, 8:25 p.m.

Justin had finished changing into the sergeant’s uniform and was buckling the belt when Emily appeared in the doorway.

“Don’t make a sound,” he said softly, reaching for the M-9 pistol on his hip.

Emily held her breath. “Oh, did you . . . did you kill Tom?” she said, staring at the sergeant’s body lying in Justin’s bed, covered with the bed sheets and the blanket.

“No.” Justin walked over to her, his pistol pointed at her chest. “And I won’t kill you either. He’ll be unconscious for a while. I’ve got to get out of this place, and this seemed to be the only way out.”

“Oh, really? You didn’t think to ask?”

“I did. Your commander placed me under arrest, chaining me to Sergeant Brown even when I went to the washroom.”

“It’s for your own good. This is a US military base, not a rehab. You can’t just wander anywhere you please.”

“I won’t try to convince you. I know you’re loyal to your country. But you have to understand I have to be loyal to mine. Where are Carrie and Anna?”

“Four doors down.”

“Take me there. Slowly. And for your own sake, be quiet.”

* * *

Emily unlocked the door of room 4A without knocking or otherwise announcing their arrival.

“Who’s there?” Carrie asked, flicking on a nightstand lamp. She did a double take at the unexpected sight of the pale-faced nurse and the tall, uniformed airman.

“It’s me,” Justin said, staying two steps behind Emily. “Just different clothes.”

“Finally.” Carrie stood up from her bed, ran to Justin, and gave him a big hug. “I see you took some time for grooming.” She rubbed his arms.

“I had a guard dog at my door, and I needed to distract him.”

“Hey, Justin, you’re back,” Anna said, holding back a yawn. “I guess I must have dozed off. You look good in uniform.”

“Thanks. Now, change out of your gowns. We’re getting out of this place.”

“Where are you going?” Emily asked. “It’s a blizzard out there.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Justin replied.

Carrie glanced around the room, but there was nothing on the coat hanger by the door. “What happened to our clothes?” she asked.

“Someone must have taken them down to the laundry,” Emily replied. “They were wet and gross, probably.”

“Where’s the laundry?” Justin asked.

“Downstairs. First floor.”

“Take us there,” Justin ordered Emily and headed for the door.

“No,” Carrie said. “The base is small, and someone will clue in you’re not one of them. I’ll go with her.” She gestured toward Emily. “Do we have a car?”

“I said it’s a blizzard, a snowstorm, out there,” Emily said in a loud, annoyed voice. “Why isn’t anyone paying attention to me? You can’t drive anywhere!”

“You’re right about that,” Justin said. “I won’t, but you will.”

“You’re crazy. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Oh, I think you will,” Justin brandished his gun.

“You said you weren’t gonna kill me and now—”

“He might have said that,” Carrie said, “but I’ve made no such promise.” She took the pistol from Justin’s hand. “I’ll go with her to get our clothes back. Wait here.”

* * *

Five long minutes passed after Carrie’s departure. Justin and Anna endured every second in silence, hoping and praying for her safe return. Occasionally, Anna took a quick peek through the blinds, but nothing disturbed the tranquility of the empty hospital hall. Each moment that passed increased their fear: someone had detected Carrie, Emily may have let out a scream, or somehow things had taken a turn for the worse.

“Where is she?” Anna asked, after taking another glance. “Why is it taking so long?”

“Relax,” Justin replied. “It’s only been a few minutes. Carrie will be back as soon as she can.”

“What if she’s been discovered or caught?”

“Let’s not worry about that.”

Anna sighed and paced around the room. She sat at the end of the bed and toyed with the edge of her white patient gown. Justin placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and she looked into his eyes, searching for a glint of hope. Finding what she sought, she replied with a big, hopeful smile and stood up.

“They’re here,” she whispered.

Justin opened the door, and both Carrie and Emily entered.

“Our clothes weren’t ready yet, so I grabbed whatever was there,” Carrie said.

She was wearing a pair of black jeans, a gray sweater, and a brown jacket. Emily had changed into a red cushion jacket, two sizes too large, and baggy blue jeans.

“Take this and hurry up.” Carrie handed Anna a black laundry bag stuffed with clothes.

Anna pulled out a blue Gore-Tex jacket, a pair of green and black camouflage pants, and black boots. Justin got an orange and black leather jacket, with the Harley-Davidson logo and an angry wing-spread eagle on the back. He turned around, as Anna changed into her new clothes.

“I checked two different phones on the way to the laundry room,” Carrie said. “The lines are dead.”

“Happens often in storms like this,” Emily said.

“That means we can’t inform Johnson and can’t call in help.” Justin changed jackets. “At least at this point.”

“I’m ready,” Anna said after a few seconds. “Let’s go.”

“OK. Where did you park?” Justin asked Emily.

“In front, where I always park. My truck’s a red Ford. The third one to the left of the main entrance.”

“Too risky,” Carrie said. “The main door will certainly have guards or at least receptionists.”

Justin nodded. “Take us to one of the back doors,” he said to Emily. “The closest one. We’ll walk around.”

She gave them a bold stare, holding everyone’s eyes for a brief second, as if deciding which one of them to take down first. Carrie gestured with her pistol toward the door. Emily led them down the hall and to the left, toward the elevators.

They rode in a tense silence to the first floor and followed Emily as she turned right. They continued in the opposite direction of where the nurse had brought Justin for his x-rays and passed by a series of closed doors.

“Where’s the back door?” Justin asked.

“Over there.” Emily pointed further ahead and to their right. “Around the corner.”

“You’re not dragging us deeper into the hospital?” Justin said.

“No,” Emily replied, “you’re the ones dragging me into your crazy schemes.”

“Keep your voice down,” Carrie said.

As they rounded the corner, the hall opened into a small lobby, where three different halls connected. Emily proceeded toward the one to the right, just as a woman in a white doctor’s coat walked into the lobby from one of the other halls, about thirty feet away from the group.

“Emily, I need your help in the lab for a muscle biopsy,” she said, studying their faces and their mismatched clothes.

“Sue, help me,” Emily shouted. She tried to break away from Carrie’s tight grip around her left arm.

“What’s going on here?” Sue took a few steps toward them as Carrie and Emily began to struggle.

“Help me, help me,” Emily screamed, and dropped to the floor to stall Justin’s attempt at hauling her away. Carrie’s pistol was now visible to Sue.

“Oh my gosh!” Her eyes widened. In apparent panic, she flipped a fire alarm switch on the wall. The high-pitched scream of the siren cut through the silence like a surgeon’s scalpel slicing through soft tissue.

“Crap.” Carrie released her grasp on Emily. “Run.”

“No, we need her.” Justin kept pulling on Emily’s right arm, this time using both hands.

“For what? I’ll drive.”

“In case someone goes nuts and starts blasting us.”

Carrie raised an eyebrow, but there was no time to argue. Justin wrapped his arms around Emily’s waist. She kept fighting, kicking her legs, and spinning her arms, taking swings at his chest and head. Her punches mostly missed their target, but succeeded in slowing them down.

“Stop or I’ll shoot you,” Carrie threatened her. Emily kept up her resistance, calling their bluff.

“Turn around, we’ve got to go this way,” Anna said.

She pointed ahead at a couple of patients looking at the bizarre scene. Over the loudspeakers, a man’s calm voice instructed the staff and the patients to leave the hospital premises in an orderly fashion.

“Go ahead and bring her truck to the door,” Carrie shouted over the deafening screech of the alarm. She threw the keys of Emily’s truck to Anna, and she began to run through the hall.

“Hey, what are you doing there?” said a strong voice.

A patient stood about fifty feet behind them. The hospital gown looked a few sizes too small on the big man.

“Stay the hell back,” Carried raised her pistol and aimed it at him.

The man stopped and glanced at the gun for a moment. Then he shook his large head and kept moving forward toward them. “You ain’t shooting nobody,” he boomed, sounding much closer than he actually was.

Carrie lowered her gun and grabbed Emily’s kicking feet. The nurse was airborne now, and it was easier to carry her through the halls. As soon as they got to the elevators, Emily’s scuffle subsided. She realized there was not much hope someone would actually come to her rescue.

They reached the reception desk and heard the rumbling of a truck’s engine. A Ford’s tailgate lights glowed bright orange in the thick haze outside the main entrance. Carrie pushed the doors open with her back, and they rushed outside. Justin shoved Emily in the backseat of the truck and dove in beside her.

“Go, go, go,” Carrie shouted, as she slammed the front passenger’s door.

Anna stomped on the gas pedal. The front wheels spun, the engine coughed, and the truck jerked before bolting ahead. It sprayed a small cloud of mud and ice at two men who ran outside and gave chase behind it.

* * *

“So, where do we go now?” Anna asked.

Justin glanced through the rear window. No one was following them—at least, for now. “Let me think,” he said, turning around in his seat and squinting at all sides.

They hit a patch of ice on the road, and the front wheels of the truck drifted to the right. Anna steered in the same direction for a second, and then slowly turned to the left, to correct the slide.

“Straight ahead, go straight ahead,” Justin said. “The hangars are that way.”

“The hangars?” Emily asked. “You’re going to hide in the hangars?”

“I can’t see anything,” Anna complained, bobbing her head and wiggling left and right in the driver’s seat.

She drove at the edge of the road, in order to gain some tire traction over the snowy powder. The gray fog had reduced the visibility to just a few feet, concealing the landscape in a dazzling blur. The bright, long headlight beams could hardly penetrate the pitch-black night. The winter storms had formed high snow windrows along the narrow trail, in some places higher than the truck’s roof.

“Slow down,” Emily yelled. “You’re gonna kill us all.”

The truck jumped over a snow bump, the metal frame rattling as if it were going to fall apart at any moment. Anna squinted and noticed a row of dim lights to her left.

“That’s the airstrip,” Carrie said. She was looking in the same direction.

The road curved slightly to the right. Anna eased off the gas to avoid another slide. The haze had dwindled a bit, and she could see two flashing lamps mounted over the hangar doors. A third one, smaller and fainter, lit up a sign on the blue wall. THULE AIR BASE was written in large white letters. Anna parked the truck underneath the sign.

“Who the hell are you?” a man howled as he stormed out of a door next to the hangar’s entrance. He was holding a large pipe wrench in his right hand, and he displayed it menacingly in front of his chest.

“Mr. Maxwell,” Justin said, trying to calm him. “My name is Justin—”

“What are you doing here? Emily?!” Maxwell exclaimed.

“Help me,” she screamed, throwing a punch toward Carrie’s face.

Carried dodged it easily and twisted Emily’s arm in a submission move.

Emily moaned, “Aaaaah,” while trying to kick back.

Maxwell needed no further explanations. He raised his improvised weapon, the pipe wrench, and launched himself for Justin’s head. Justin fell back. The wrench barely missed his face, swinging about an inch before his nose. Justin felt the air move in front of his eyes.

Bang, bang.

Two warning shots stopped Maxwell’s second attempt at a second blow. He stared at Carrie, who was holding her M-9 pistol at his head. Her face was covered in a thin white veil from her heavy, warm breath rapidly condensing upon contact with the freezing air. Out of options, Maxwell threw the pipe wrench on the tarmac.

Justin picked it up. “Open the hangar doors,” he ordered Maxwell.

“Why? What do you want there?” Maxwell resisted.

Justin gave him a strong shove.

“Do we need to explain ourselves?” Carrie waved her pistol. “Hurry up,” she added.

“A chopper? You’re planning to take off in a chopper?” Emily blurted out.

“This is totally nuts. You’ll crash before you even reach the bay,” Maxwell said.

“The keys, man.” Carrie pressed the muzzle of her pistol against Maxwell’s thick chest. “Nobody asked you to predict our future.”

“Someone’s coming,” Anna warned them with a shout.

Chapter Sixteen