both,” Joe said. “What the hell’s happening out there?”
“I don’t mean to alarm you, but ten minutes ago, we received a report of gunfire, maybe an explosion at the glacier where Dr. Cargill was investigating the archaeological site.”
Maria tensed. Oh, god . . .
“But the entire coast is socked in with a thick fog, so we’ve got no visuals. It could just be hunters or someone scaring off a polar bear. Still, I’m not taking any chances. The closest village—Tasiilaq—has a small police force, but they’re involved with a search-and-rescue mission far inland. Still, the one officer left in town was dispatched to investigate.”
“What do you want us to do?”
“I want your boots on the ground out there ASAP. I contacted the navy. Although the U.S. had decommissioned its base in Iceland, we were recently granted permission to station a few P-8 Poseidon maritime patrol planes to monitor Russian submarine activity up in the Arctic.”
“Let me guess,” Joe said. “We’re hitching a ride.”
“A Poseidon is fueling on the tarmac at the international airport. The jet can get you to the Kulusk airport—which is fifteen miles from Tasiilaq—in forty-five minutes. There a helicopter will be waiting to take you over to the glacier, weather permitting.”
Maria heard the director’s stress on those last two words. “What about the weather?”
“Patterns are rapidly shifting out there. An unseasonal piteraq is building inland and could strike the coast in the next two to three hours.”
“What’s a piteraq?” she asked.
“A fierce windstorm. They can blow a hundred miles per hour with gusts twice that. If it strikes, it’ll ground all aircraft along the entire coast.”
Joe snorted. “And you want us to duck under that hurricane before it shuts down the place.”
“You’re the only ones who can get there in time,” Painter admitted. “In the meantime, I’m mobilizing everyone here in D.C. in case things go sideways. I’m hoping that won’t be the case.”
“But you’re not taking any chances,” Maria added.
“And you know why.”
She did. Dr. Elena Cargill was not just a good friend; she was also a senator’s daughter. Maria shifted to catch Joe’s eye, to let him see her fear, her guilt.
And I put her in harm’s way.
3
June 21, 10:48 A.M. WGST
Helheim Glacier, Greenland
Elena shivered in the cold darkness of the ancient dhow’s hold. Terror had driven her heart into her throat, while her mind spun with a dizzying array of possible escape scenarios: flee farther up the river channel, hide in a crack in the ice, try to swim past who was coming.
She came to only one conclusion.
We’re trapped.
Mac and the geologist Nelson sheltered in the ship with her. They flanked the crack in the hull, while John lay on his stomach between them, armed with their only weapon. As gunfire echoed to them, the Inuit had slipped a shotgun from under the seat in the skiff’s stern before they all retreated here.
Now it had gone deadly quiet.
The blasts had stopped a minute ago, but she was under no misconception that the attackers had been driven off. From the ferocity of the firefight, there had to be a score of assailants. And from the loud explosion that shook ice, the thieves had come with more than just assault rifles. Likely grenades. Finally, a loud scream had punctuated the end of the assault, which made John flinch, a reminder that the man’s cousins had been guarding the channel’s entrance.
With a deadly focus, John kept his cheek fixed to the stock of his shotgun, the double barrels aimed down the length of the meltwater channel. Next to him lay a leather bandolier holding red shells. Eleven total. Not counting the two rounds already loaded in the chambers. Mac had told her each shell was a solid lead slug versus being full of loose shot. The rounds were designed to punch a hole through a polar bear.
Still, even this formidable weapon would not hold off a large force.
They needed another plan.
Nelson finally offered one, a possibility she had not even considered. “Why don’t we just give the bastards that gold map?” he said. “Place it out at the water’s edge for them to take. As priceless as it is, it’s still not worth us dying over.”
Elena balked at this. She hated to lose such a significant historical artifact. “Will handing it over make them leave? They might believe there’s more treasure than just that map.”
“She’s right,” Mac said. “There’s no telling who leaked the news of our discovery or how inflated the story got before it reached