Arctic Wargame (Justin Hall # 1) (23 page)

He noticed an old man nodding and a few people taking a timid step forward.

“My name is Justin Hall, and I’ve already met some of you. These are my colleagues, Carrie O’Connor and Anna Worthley. We all work for the federal government. We’re part of Canada’s security services. This is—”

“You cops?” asked one of the young men who had been chatting with Nilak and Iluak.

“No, no, we’re not the police,” Justin replied quickly, as a quiet mutter rose up from the crowd. He looked at the young man and tried to read the white letters embroidered in the young man’s bandana. All he could make out was a white skull. He added, “We’re—”

“What then, spies?” interrupted another young man, standing next to the bandana young man. He was wearing a gray hooded shirt with the word Ecko stamped on the front.

“No, of course not,” Justin answered his question before any grumbling could begin from the crowd. “We’re with the defense forces.”

“The Army?” an old man asked. Justin could not see his face, but his voice had a feeble ring to it.

“Yes, today, here, we’re the Army,” Justin replied.
I wish Kiawak was here.
Justin let out a small sigh, before continuing. “As some of you are aware, we flew here last night, I mean early this morning, looking for our friend, Kiawak Kusugak.”

A few people nodded as he mentioned Kiawak’s name. Justin understood the clue.

“Kiawak Kusugak, one of my best friends and a courageous Canadian Ranger, was kidnapped by someone, someone who has chosen to sell out our country to the enemy.”

Justin allowed time for his words to sink in. The crowd grew wary and agitated.

“Sell out our country?” a woman’s high-pitched voice came from the back of the hall.

“Our land?” shouted another old man.

“Enemy? What enemy?” asked other people.

“Let me explain,” Justin raised his voice in order to silence them. “This person had struck a deal with the Danish military forces to enable their entry into Canada through our waters, so they can take control of our Northwest Passage.”

The crown erupted in a loud noise.

“What?”

“You’ve got to be kidding!”

“Is this true?”

“Yes.” Justin limped toward them and tried to calm them with hand gestures. “The Danish troops are going to attack us, right here in the Arctic, in our homes.”

“The Danish troops are not our enemy,” said one man. “They’re our allies. They have troops in Afghanistan to fight terrorism, and Canada trades goods with the Danes.”

“Yes,” the bandana young man said, “I had some Danish for breakfast.”

Noisy laughter roared among the people. Some young men were shaking their heads in disbelief.

“Any help would be appreciated,” Justin whispered at Carrie and Anna.

“I’ve got nothing,” Carrie replied. “If I open my mouth, I’ll make matters worse.”

Anna raised her shoulders. Justin glanced at Nilak and Iluak, but they were staring at the ceiling.

“Listen,” Justin tried again, “I’m telling you the truth. The Danes are launching their attack under the pretense of a training exercise. We need your help to stop this attack.”

“Wrong choice of words, Justin,” Carrie muttered under breath.

“Training exercise? All this brouhaha for some training?” The squeaky voice had the unmistakable hint of scorn.

“You’re the Army, right?” An old man pointed his shaky hand at Justin. “Why don’t you call for reinforcements? Why do you need us, eh?”

“Yes, why?” other people joined him.

“Oh, I’m out of here, bro.” The young man in the Ecko shirt threw his hands up in the air with a snort. He turned around to leave. Justin tried to remain calm. Other people followed the young man.

“Where the hell are you going?” A stern voice echoed throughout the entire court, suppressing everyone’s whining and mumbling.

The crowd went still for a moment. Then it began to divide right in the middle. A low, screeching sound, resembling the metallic rattle of rusty door hinges, was the only thing breaking the silence. People were making room for a man to walk through.
Not walk, roll in.
A woman pushed a wheelchair holding a man wrapped in blankets.
Kiawak! Yes, that’s Kiawak!

“It’s great to see you, man.” Justin tapped Kiawak on the shoulder. His pale face was the same color as his blankets.

Carrie and Anna offered pleasant smiles. Kiawak nodded back. The woman, who Justin realized was Emily, turned the wheelchair around so Kiawak could face the crowd.

“I can’t believe it’s you who brought him here,” Justin whispered at Emily. “I thought you hated us.”

“I used to, but he convinced me you’re actually the good guys.” Emily gestured toward Kiawak.

“Maybe he can convince them, as well,” Justin mumbled, taking a few steps back.

Kiawak faced the curious and angry stares of his own people.

Søndre Strømfjord, Greenland

April 14, 07:40 a.m.

“Why the handcuffs?” Sargon asked.

Magnus ignored his question. He marched past the man and the other recruits scurrying to form five rows of ten soldiers each inside the wooden barracks. Magnus’s team, four people in all, was handcuffing the hands of every man in front of them, refusing to give more than one-line answers to their questions.

“Hurry up,” Magnus barked at a skinny man fumbling with his shirt’s buttons. “We’re out of here in less than thirty minutes.”

“What’s the rush, boss?” asked a large man with a thick voice. A few steps away, he straightened the earflaps of his woolen hat.

“The special op, for which you’ve been preparing for so long, is finally under way.” Magnus stopped in front of the man and asked, “Jack, right?”

The man nodded.

“Jack, and everyone else,” Magnus shouted, scanning the faces of the disorderly bunch, “the handcuffs are for your own protection. This mission is extremely important. We don’t want it threatened by your emotions, which, at times, have triggered your violent responses. In this way, your aggression will be focused at the right target.”

“Great mental shit, boss,” Jack replied. “We still don’t know our target or any details about this
important
mission.”

“Mr. Madsen, our Commander, will soon inspect this platoon. He’ll explain these final details.” He stood toe-to-toe with Jack, whose defiant grin stretched from one corner of his lips to the other.

“Platoon my ass,” mumbled a man from the last row. “We’re being tied like prisoners.”

“You
are
prisoners, but this mission will make you free, each and every one of you. That’s why your minds and your bodies should work toward accomplishing this mission.”

“Which we still don’t know,” retorted the disgruntled man.

“I’ll tell you exactly what it is,” Gunter replied, standing at the entrance of the barracks.

The recruits scrambled to complete their lines. Magnus and his team turned to face the commander and stood at attention. Gunter strutted in with Yuliya in tow. She was followed by six armed guards Magnus was seeing for the first time.

Gunter stopped in front of the platoon. “Soldiers, my name is Gunter Madsen, and I’m the commander of this operation. Soon we’ll embark on a short flight, a mission to defend our country’s sovereignty in a much-disputed region, the High Arctic. It is our duty to march forward as the leading unit to secure these Danish territories.” Gunter kept pacing in front of the platoon, his voice reaching a crescendo with the rhythm of his speech. “We will fight, and if need be, we will shed our blood, so that our land may be prosperous and secure.”

“Did he say shed our blood?” a small man in the fourth row whispered to a tall recruit on his right. “We were told this was a patrol mission, to confirm Denmark’s presence in the Arctic.”

“Shhhhh,” the tall recruit replied.

Gunter paused and scanned their faces with his bright eyes. “In terms of exact details, you’ll be flying in one of the Hercules that brought you here. Our destination is Nanisivik, a small Canadian settlement at the northern tip of Baffin Island. Once on the ground, you’ll take over the town. When the area is secured, we’ll continue up north, to Resolute. At the same time, another group will take over the town of Arctic Bay, another insignificant obstacle in our way to control the entire Northwest Passage.”

Loud mumbling broke through the crowd, mostly from the back rows.

“Weapons will be given to you after landing,” Gunter continued, pacing to his right and then turning around. “Resistance from the enemy is expected to be pathetic, at best. Still, everyone is urged to take this mission very seriously. You should make every effort toward victory. May God bless you all.”

“Hmm, Chief,” a scratchy voice called from the back row. “We’re all chained up here, like mad dogs.”

Gunter tilted his head and looked for the man. He found him standing at the far end corner of the platoon.

“I’ve got this.” Yuliya held Gunter’s arm and marched toward the scratchy voice. Two of the guards unknown to Magnus followed her. “Chained up, you say?”

“Yes, don’t you see the handcuffs?” The man lifted up his arms.

“I see an attitude,” Yuliya replied. “An attitude of disrespect toward authority.”

The man snorted with a big shrug.

“Mr. Madsen’s authority is not to be questioned, neither by you nor—”

“I’m saying, if we’re heroes and that bullshit, why don’t you trust us?”

“You interrupted me. But maybe you’re right. Maybe we’re asking too much of you, and we’re seeing things that just aren’t there. Maybe it’s all bullshit, as you say, and there are no heroes among you.” Yuliya nodded to one of the two guards behind her. “Yuri, what is Mr.—”

“Villadsen, Pedar Villadsen,” the man replied. He stood straight and tall with a natural pride when giving his name.

“Yes. And Mr. Villadsen’s reason for being behind bars?”

Yuri swung his HK MP5 submachine gun behind his shoulder and tapped a few keys on his BlackBerry. “Murder,” he said after a few seconds. “Mr. Villadsen was convicted for murder and has served half of his fifteen-year sentence.”

“Murder. Interesting.” Yuliya circled around Pedar. “An innocent man?” she asked.

Pedar remained silent.

“What’s going on here?” Magnus asked Gunter, who was observing the exchange, his arms crossed in front of his chest. “What is she up to?”

“I have no idea,” Gunter replied coldly. His gaze seemed distant, detached from the scene taking place in front of his eyes.

“Tell me. Was he an innocent man?” Yuliya asked again.

“Nobody’s innocent,” Pedar replied.

“Quite so,” she said.

She took Yuri’s BlackBerry and skimmed through the pages of Pedar’s file stored in the device. “You shot a liquor store clerk, after tying and blindfolding him.”

Pedar nodded, his crooked teeth flashing an evil grin.

Yuliya stepped closer to him. She removed her HK USP 9mm pistol with a swift gesture and pressed it against Pedar’s left side, wedging it tight in the man’s ribcage. “I’m doing you the same favor, you son of a bitch,” she sputtered.

Pedar stumbled backwards and began to raise his arms. Yuliya was fast on the trigger. A single bullet pierced Pedar’s clothes and skin. He was dead before his body hit the cement floor.

Magnus’s hand went for his side weapon, but the corner of his eye caught a quick glimpse of Gunter’s emotionless face.
Why is he not intervening? What’s going on here?

“Shit,” shouted the man standing next to Pedar, glancing at the pool of blood forming around the body. “You’ve killed him, you—”

Yuliya pointed her pistol at the agitated man, in case he attempted a stupid act of revenge. “Yes, and I will not think twice about punishing any form of disobedience.”

She returned to the front of the platoon, followed by Yuri and the other guard.

All Magnus could do was stare in disbelief, as Gunter took a step back, giving Yuliya the floor. Some of the recruits shook their heads. Others stared at the floor.

“Maybe the commander was thinking too highly of you maggots, when he tried to lighten up your condemned souls. Maybe we’re miscalculating your thirst for evil. Well, here it is in simple and clear words: You do what you’re told, or else I’ll kill you all with my own hands. Is that clear?”

A couple of shy nods came from the third row.

“I can’t hear anything,” Yuliya shouted. “Do you get it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” a few half-hearted replies came from the crowd.

“What? I can’t hear you!”

“Yes, ma’am,” the platoon roared in a single voice.

“Great, that’s much better. Back to you, Commander.” Yuliya placed her pistol in its holster.

Gunter sighed and took a deep breath before speaking in a wavering voice. “Magnus, take the platoon into the Hercules. I’ll complete the inspection of the other barracks. Follow me, Yuliya.”

“Yes, yes, sir,” Magnus replied.
I’ve got to figure out what the hell is going on here, and who is actually in charge.

Arctic Bay, Canada

April 14, 6:25 a.m.

“My father, Pukiq, was a hunter.” Kiawak’s voice was shaky, like his hands, and tinged with nostalgia as he began to speak to his people in their native language. He had asked for Justin’s help, and he had sat him on the floor. Everyone in the crowd had followed his example, forming a semi-circle. “Pukiq’s father, Saghani, he was a hunter too. He liked to hunt seals in particular, and he liked it when my grandma Kenojuak cooked them for him after he returned from long voyages.”

“What is Kiawak saying?” Justin whispered to Nilak, who leaned over and began translating for him in a hushed voice.

“Our ancestors roamed Baffin Island,” Kiawak continued, “from east to west, as far as the caribou and the polar bear wander, when the land froze and when the snow melted, and when the long dark nights were replaced by endless daylight. As far as our forefathers remember, this place, these mountains and oceans, rivers and lakes, these were always our home. We built our villages, and we hunted our food. We lived and we died. We married, and we raised our children.