When the helicopters were out of range, he would gun the snowmobile, covering as much distance as possible as quickly as possible. As he arrived at the outskirts of the town, the sun had already begun to set.
It was bordered by a wide river, which wasn’t iced over. There was one bridge on the southernmost edge of the town. He could either hide his snowmobile in the trees on this side or take it across and try to find someplace on the other side. He chose to take it across.
As the light faded, the already frigid temperatures continued to drop. On one of the streets up ahead he saw the headlights of a passing vehicle. Other than that, the only visible lights were from inside houses where locals were preparing dinner.
Harvath assumed that, as in Alaska, in such a remote area, a snowmobile passing through town didn’t even warrant a second look. And even if someone did glance outside, they wouldn’t have been able to see much of his face, bundled up as he was in the trapper’s fur outerwear.
As he moved past houses, he kept his eyes open for opportunity—cars left running, dwellings that were uninhabited, as well as gasoline and other supplies. He also kept his eyes peeled for anything resembling local police or military.
Not only did the fading light provide him a certain level of camouflage but it also helped hide the bloodstains covering his anorak. One good, clear look at him would have raised a ton of questions. Better no one see him at all. That was the way he preferred it—especially now.
Making his way through the snow-covered back streets, he kept on the lookout for signs of a pharmacy or doctor’s office—even a veterinarian’s would have done the trick.
Like the surrounding landscape, the town was bleak. If hopelessness were an actual color, this place would be all fifty shades of it.
It was exactly what he pictured when he thought of life during the interminably long, dark winters north of the Arctic Circle. He was astounded by the fact that the Finns could be so close, yet so different. The Russian psyche did not lend itself to upbeat, sunny optimism. The sooner he was out of here, the better.
More important than where he could steal the antibiotics he needed was where he could stay warm and hidden for the night. Though he had kept his eyes peeled for signs of an uninhabited dwelling, he wasn’t finding any. Every home appeared to be spoken for.
If the trapper had a primary residence in town, it wasn’t marked on the GPS. Following the signal, it led Harvath to a sparse, central square with a rundown, kitschy, tropical-themed café. Its mascot was a pelican wearing a parka.
Behind the frost-covered windows, he could see people drinking and having a good time. Though he could barely make it out over the noise from his engine, it sounded as if there was music playing as well. No matter how bad the weather was, alcohol and other people tended to make things better. It was a comfort that he would need to remain a stranger to.
Pushing through the town center, he found what he was looking for on the other side. It was a drab, one-story building that billed itself as a medical “clinic.” As best he could tell, the clinic practiced family medicine, specializing in infants to senior citizens, and also handled “minor” dental emergencies. There was a number to call for appointments, as well as one for after hours. Harvath drove his snowmobile around back.
There had been no vehicles in front, nor were there any at the rear of the building. None of the lights were on, either. It looked as if everyone had left for the evening.
Figuring he could hike back to the café and steal a car if he needed to, Harvath decided to shut off the snowmobile’s engine. Erring on the side of caution, though, he broke out the spare jerry can and filled the sled’s gas tank. The needle had been hovering just above empty since he arrived. Be prepared was more than just a motto in his book. It was a way of life. There was no telling what kind of an exit he might have to make out of town. Better to do it on a full tank of gas.
After tucking the GPS and its power cord into his rucksack, he did a quick sweep of the building for alarm sensors. Not seeing any, he knocked