Hard Line - Pamela Clare Page 0,19
like a plaything.
Samantha handed the mask back to Thor, her gaze meeting his. She was so close he could smell the sweet floral scent of her shampoo.
“You should drink. You’re probably dehydrated.” He nudged the seat in front of him with his knee. “That goes for you guys, too.”
Jones elbowed Segal. “The Viking says to drink.”
“Water—or does he have something stronger?”
Samantha reached for the bottle of water she’d tucked into the seatback pocket, opened it, drank deeply. “Where do you live when you’re not saving people?”
Thor gave the mask back to Samantha. “In the mountains about an hour and a half west of Denver. I bought a house up there—”
The plane dropped again, losing altitude all at once.
Samantha gasped, grabbed Thor’s hand, their guests grunting and shouting in alarm as inertia flung them against the overhead compartment.
But just as quickly as it began, it was over, the plane still aloft.
Thor could have released her hand then, but he didn’t, instead holding fast. “It won’t be too much longer.”
“You must think I’m a big baby.”
He grinned, shook his head. “Being brave doesn’t mean you’re not afraid. You did great out there. The NSF sent us the right person for the job.”
Reluctantly, he released her hand.
What’s with you, man?
“I couldn’t have done it without your help.”
“I only did what you told me to do.”
A few minutes later, the pilot announced that they were now below twelve thousand feet and that he was shutting off the oxygen system. “We’re past the worst of the turbulence. Conditions near the Pole are calm.”
She breathed a deep sigh of relief when at long last, the aircraft’s skis touched the ice. “Oh, thank goodness! I can’t believe we made it.”
Thor couldn’t help but smile. “Of course, we did.”
The Russians cheered.
Thor unbuckled his safety belt and stood. “You two watch over our guests. I’ll get Dr. Park and the package back to the station. We need to clear the aircraft quickly so the pilot can get back to McMurdo.”
Segal got to his feet, explained the situation to the Russians.
Thor watched as they disembarked, waiting for the pilot, who appeared carrying the box with the components. “Fantastic flying, man.”
The pilot shook Thor’s hand. “Happy to do my part.”
By the time Thor and Samantha had reached the stairs to Destination Alpha, the pilot was in the air once more, racing the storm to McMurdo.
Samantha opened the door. “I can’t believe it’s over.”
But it wasn’t over for Thor, Jones, and Segal. They’d retrieved the package, but now they were stuck at the station with researchers who didn’t want them around—and seven potential hostiles.
6
Samantha had never been happier to see the inside of the station than she was at this moment. Exhausted and drained, she took off her goggles, mask, hat, and gloves, eager for a cup of hot coffee. She turned to Thor, Malik, and Lev. “If you’re hungry, there’s food in the galley. They’ll start serving supper at six. And thank you—all of you.”
Thor met her gaze, his lips curving in a slight smile. “You did the hard work, so we should be the ones thanking you.”
Steve came down the stairs, made eye contact with her, relief on his face. “Glad to see you back. Mission accomplished?”
Samantha and Thor answered at the same time. “Yes.”
Steve glanced around at the unfamiliar faces. “Who are these guys?”
Vasily and his friends milled about, looking lost and bedraggled.
“Just some Russians we picked up at the crash site.” Thor pointed. “Vasily there speaks English. Segal speaks Russian. He can help you out.”
“Just great.” Steve looked about as excited by this as Samantha had expected him to be. “Let’s get them settled. We can grab toiletries and other basics for them off the Skua table. Do they have a leader?”
None of this was Samantha’s problem. She left Steve to deal with it and headed down the hallway toward the A1 wing, uncomfortably warm now in these heavy layers.
Thor caught up with her. “Hey, I had something to go over with you, but I don’t want to risk anyone hearing.”
That was mysterious—and interesting. “Okay.”
She wouldn’t forget how he’d helped her today. He’d recognized her hypoxia, giving her his oxygen, holding her hand. He’d even bandaged her cut.
He followed her to her room, people casting him curious glances as they passed. “What do the scientists here have against guys like us?”
He didn’t seem bothered by the situation, just curious.
“Too many researchers have had their work appropriated by the military. They discover something or create something new, only to