Arctic Wargame (Justin Hall # 1) (4 page)

Justin locked eyes with Carrie, reassuring her with a quick wink. Unnoticed by Johnson, who was writing on her notebook, the wink was caught by Alisha, who replied with a slick grin.
I don’t want to be an outsider,
Justin translated her grin.
I’ll work my way to the inner circle.

“Sounds perfect.” He closed the folder and looked at Johnson. “I’ll contact JTFN right away and talk to one of their Rangers.”

“I’m sure there’s no need to remind you about the importance of this mission,” Johnson said in an almost solemn tone. “It’s a time-sensitive priority, but the need for secrecy trumps the need for a hasty completion. We’re keeping this very low-profile. The populations of Ellesmere and Baffin are quite low, but the potential for mudslinging is still incredible, especially if things get out of hand. I don’t want to be accused of interference or pressuring the locals into cooperation. This mission should be completed without any scandals. Understood?”

She lectured at the group but lashed her piercing glare at Justin and Carrie.
This is not Libya,
her glare told them.
Don’t screw this up.

They both nodded in unison.

“Great.” Johnson stood up and the team members followed suit. “Start preparations right away, with the goal of leaving as soon as possible, hopefully by tomorrow. Based on your findings, we’ll work on a course of action. Good luck.”

She shook everyone’s hand and they left her office.

* * *

“Have you ever been to the Arctic?” Justin asked Anna as they headed toward the elevators. She was walking to his left, while Carrie was to his right, two steps behind the colonel, who led the group.

“Yes, Yellowknife. Last August for a weeklong conference.”

“Summers are a breeze there,” Carrie said. “The winters, hmmm, not so much.”

“I’ve been to Iqaluit and Nanisivik,” Alisha said without waiting for anyone to ask her and without looking back. “Iqaluit in January, Nanisivik in July. A few years back, I ran the Midnight Sun Marathon, which takes place, of course, during the night, but when the sun is still very much shining in the skies, between Nanisivik and—”

“Arctic Bay,” Carrie jumped in. “It’s thirteen miles west of Nanisivik.”

“Exactly,” Alisha said. She slowed down and turned her head. “But that was quite a while back, oh, maybe twelve, thirteen years ago.”

“Arctic winters are far from a walk in the park.” Justin slowed down. “We get freezing snaps here too, but nothing like minus forty for months and months.”

Anna flinched.

“He’s right,” Alisha said. “It’s essential we dress warm, very warm. Plenty of Gore-Tex and many layers.”

Carrie nodded.

Alisha picked up her pace. “I’ve got to run to another meeting, but send me an update on the preps.”

“Sure,” Justin replied. “Since Johnson wants the utmost secrecy, we’ll fly commercial to Iqaluit then charter a plane to carry us north. In order to avoid any unnecessary attention, we shouldn’t land near any of the communities of eastern Ellesmere or Baffin. Once I’ve confirmed we have a Ranger on board, I’ll send you a draft itinerary.”

“Good,” Alisha said.

“Do you mind sending that to me as well, please?” asked Anna.

“Not at all,” Justin replied.

“Thanks, I need to be in my office in ten minutes,” said Anna.

“I’ll keep everyone informed on any new CSE reports,” Alisha offered.

“That would be great.” Carrie shook Alisha’s hand, as they came to the painting of the explorers and their dogsleds.

Alisha gestured with her head toward it. “That’s Sir John Franklin and his crew,” she said to no one in particular but loud enough for everyone to hear. “He was a great explorer, but . . . Oh, a sad story with a terrible ending.”

“Why? What happened to him?” Anna asked.

“He starved to death,” Alisha replied. “In the Arctic.”

Chapter
Two

Ottawa, Canada

April 10, 6:50 p.m.

“When’s Uncle Jim coming?” Olivier tugged at Justin’s jacket. “It’s so cold out here, and we’ll miss the game.”

“He’ll be here any second.” Justin scanned the parking lot for Jim’s white Honda and stroked the little boy’s blond hair. “We’ll see the whole hockey game. Don’t worry.”

They were pacing in front of the main entrance to Scotiabank Place, the home of the Ottawa Senators, as hordes of joyful fans swarmed toward the gates. The Senators were going to battle against the Anaheim Ducks that night. In the words of five-year-old Olivier, they were going to roast some duckwings, instead of ducklings. Jim, a university classmate of Justin who had taken a different career path––financial advisor in a big bank––was supposed to join them for the game.

“Is he even going to show up?”

“Of course he will. When Jim says he’s going to do something, you can bet your life he’ll follow through with it.”

“Oookaaay.” Olivier sighed.

He ran to a backlit decorative post featuring one of the Senator players performing a wrist shot. Olivier imitated the player’s body positioning and flicked an imaginary hockey stick. The little boy wore the same red, black, white, and gold jersey as the Senators, a gift from Justin. The first time the Big Brothers Big Sisters local chapter introduced him to Olivier through their Mentoring Program, the gift-wrapped jersey immediately melted the ice, transforming Justin from a complete stranger to Olivier’s best friend. The only thing that mattered to the little boy was wearing the colors of his dream team. When Justin was growing up, his older brother never took him to a hockey game. Justin tried to take Olivier to a game as often as his schedule allowed him.

“There he is.” Justin pointed at Jim, who was jogging toward them.

“Yeaaaah, quick, hurry, hurry,” Olivier cheered him on, and Jim broke into a sprint.

“Uh, eh, sorry . . . sorry, I’m late,” Jim said, shaking Justin’s hand and trying to catch his breath.

“Don’t worry, Jim, this is Olivier. Olivier, this is Jim.”

“Nice to meet you. Can we go in now?”

“Sure,” Jim said.

They found their seats just as the teams were about to begin the game.

“I told you we wouldn’t miss a second,” Justin said. The little boy was to his left, Jim to his right.

“Uh-huh,” Olivier replied with a mouthful of popcorn. “Why are we so far from the rink tonight?”

“We’re not that far,” Justin replied. “It’s the center ice section, and we’re only a few rows away from the glass.”

“The kid’s a real handful, eh?” Jim whispered as Olivier stuffed his mouth with another scoop of popcorn.

“You’re right about that. He’s afraid he won’t see the puck.”

“Yes, I can’t see the puck,” Olivier mumbled.

The start of the match put an end to Olivier’s yawping, and he lost himself in the game.

* * *

Regardless of Olivier’s cheering and the spectators’ repetitive chants, encouraging the Senators to “charge,” the first period was not very memorable. The occasional fights among the players could not make up for the overall slow pace and the discouraging lack of goals.

“Do you need to use the washroom?” Justin asked Olivier, whose sulking lips and sinking eyes showed his complete disappointment. The intermission had just begun, giving the players and the crowds a much-needed break.

“Oookaaay,” Olivier replied.

“I’ll get you another thing of popcorn,” Justin said, but his words did not lighten up Olivier’s mood. “You’re coming, Jim?”

“Sure, I can’t stand these Zambonis and the silly music from the nineties.”

They struggled with the steady stream of people and made their way into the large halls. The fans had already begun to cluster around the concession stands.

“Do you need some help in there?” Justin asked Olivier when they came to the men’s washrooms.

“No, I can do this all by myself,” Olivier replied.

“I’m gonna grab a pop,” Jim said. “You want anything?”

“Water, get me a bottle of water. Thanks.” Justin waited a few steps away from the washrooms.

“You said there was something you wanted to tell me,” Jim said when he returned. He handed Justin a bottle of water.

“Actually, it’s a favor I need from you,” Justin replied and took a sip from the bottle.

“Man, I knew there’s no such thing as a free hockey ticket.”

“It’s a simple thing, Jim.”

“I can’t afford to run any credit checks, Justin, with or without a CIS order. One day, I’m gonna lose my job for pulling such tricks.”

“It’s nothing like that. I promised to go to Olivier’s game this Saturday, but I can’t make it.”

“Oh, and you want
me
to babysit him?” Jim’s voice suggested he would rather work through a stack of credit checks for a week.

“Only for the afternoon. His peewee league match takes place at 3:00 p.m. You pick him up, take him to the game, and then go out with him for supper at a burger joint.”

“Hmm, I think I already have plans for the weekend,” Jim said.

“On the phone you said you had nothing going on because Brenda is visiting her parents in Barrie.”

Jim frowned. “I did?”

“Yeah, you did. And when you signed up as an Alternate Mentor, you agreed to help me. You remember that?”

“Yes, I do, but I thought it was just a formality, to help you do your volunteering.”

“It’s only a couple of hours or so. C’mon, it’s for the kid.”

Jim sighed. “OK, I sit through his game and cheer for his team. But what do I talk about when we go for burgers and fries?”

“Talk about your job, your life, your family.”

“My job’s too complicated for five-year olds.”

“Not really. Say it’s like playing Monopoly, just with real money of other people.”

“Exactly, that really covers it all. Very smart observation.”

“You know what I mean. Make it kid-friendly.”

“What did
you
tell him your work is like?”

“I told him it’s like playing Risk.”

“Ha. So why can’t you do this?”

“I’m going to be out of town on business for a few days.” Justin took another sip from his water bottle. “I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“And you didn’t know about this trip earlier?”

“No, I didn’t. It came up today in a meeting. Look, I’m not trying to dump this on you and go golfing somewhere.”

“Well, you kind of are dumping this on me, but . . . where are you going, if not golfing?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Europe?”

“C’mon, Jim.”

“Who’s going with you? Can you tell me that much?”

“Carrie’s coming along. And a few other people.”

“Aha.” Jim’s eyes flashed a wicked grin. His nod meant he knew something was going on. “Rekindling the old flame, aren’t we?”

“It’s nothing like that. It’s been over a year since we broke up.”

“Yes, that may be true, but the two of you keep falling into each other’s arms.”

“No, not really.” Justin shook his head. “But we work at the same place, sometimes on the same tasks, and I can’t help it that we end up in the same mission. But work was what got in the way in the first place. So I doubt it will reunite us at the end.”

“You never know.” Jim looked around for a trash can. He was already done with his pop.

“This time I know for sure. I’ll never fall in love again with a co-worker.”

“Then you’ll remain single for life. Work is all you know.”

“Look who’s talking.”

“Hey, it took a while, but I married Brenda. You need to go out more often and with a woman. Leave the national security to the old and grumpy kind of guys who can’t wait to get away from their families.”

“Dating Tips from the Love Guru. Volume One. Thank you.”

“More like Volume Ten Thousand, but you never listen to any of them. Do you want another drink?” Jim eyed the closest concession stand.

“No, I’m good, thanks,” Justin replied.

Jim disappeared into the crowd.

“So are you going to do me the favor?” Justin asked when Jim returned with another pop in his hand.

“What favor? Oh, that one about the kid? I thought you’d forgotten all about it. By the way, shouldn’t he be finished by now?”

“Give the kid his time. Yes or no?”

“All right, I’ll do it.” He sounded like he was agreeing to a capitulation treaty. “But, man, oh man, you owe me big this time.”

“Oh, I won’t bug you for credit checks over the next month. That will do it.”

“That doesn’t even come close.” Jim began coughing after taking a big gulp of his pop.

“Or I can give you a Heimlich, so you’ll stop choking.”

“I’m fine.” Jim regained his composure. “It’s these kinds of favors that will kill me one of these days.”

Justin consulted his wristwatch. “We’ll have to get back soon to avoid the rush of people during the last minutes.”

As he turned around, Olivier came out of the washrooms.

“Hey, little buddy,” Justin said, “Uncle Jim will get you some popcorn while I use the little boy’s room.” He leaned toward Jim and whispered, “You two bond.” He winked at Olivier.

“What do you do, Uncle Jim?” Olivier asked.

“Hmm, I am a fin . . . do you like Monopoly?”

Chapter Three

Nanisivik, Canada

April 11, 12:50 p.m.

The bright sun bounced off the hard sheet of ice covering the gravel road and blinded him for a second. Kiawak squinted. All he saw were yellow sparks and black dots. His Arctic Wolf sunglasses—coated for extra protection against the sun rays’ sharp reflection from the snow—and the semi-tinted windshield of his Toyota truck were nearly useless. The permafrost, which had been agonizing under the weight of several feet of snow for months, mirrored all of the sun rays.

At minus two degrees––but driven down to minus thirteen because of the wind chill factor––the sun, although bright and blazing its way across the skies for sixteen hours a day, provided absolutely no heat. A man stranded outside without heavy protective clothing could experience the first signs of frostbite within minutes. The exposed skin would begin to freeze, the tissue turning red and burning at the lightest touch. Hypothermia would set in soon thereafter, and death could occur in the next hour.