Ice Station - Matthew Reilly [156]
Schofield emerged from the closet and hurried over to the fuse box. He yanked open the door and saw a series of wires, wheels and power units inside.
Kirsty was standing further down the east tunnel, looking out into the central shaft of the station.
‘Hurry up,’ she whispered. ‘They’re coming!’
Schofield heard voices over his newly acquired headset:
‘– Hopkins, report –’
‘– going after the girl –’
‘– perimeter team, return to the station at once. We have a problem here –’
At the fuse box, Schofield quickly found the wire he was looking for. He pulled back the sheath, exposed the copper wire. Then he punched a hole in the plastic ammonia bottle with the butt of his gun and positioned it above the exposed strand of wire. A small trickle of ammonia fluid began to drip slowly out of the bottle, down onto the exposed wire.
The drops of ammonia smacked rhythmically against the wire.
Smack-smack. Smack-smack.
At that moment, in time with the rhythm of the ammonia drops hitting the exposed wire, every light in the tunnel – indeed, every light in the whole station – began to flicker on and off, like a strobe. On. Off. On. Off.
In the flickering light of the tunnel, Schofield grabbed Kirsty’s hand and took off toward the central shaft. Once they got to the catwalk, they hurried up the nearest rung-ladder to A-deck.
Schofield strode around the A-deck catwalk, heading toward the main entrance to the station. The station around him flickered black and white. Darkness, light, darkness, light.
If he could just get to the British hovercrafts, he thought, he might be able to get away and get back to McMurdo.
There was movement everywhere. Shouts echoed through the station as the shadows of SAS commandos raced around the catwalks in the flickering light, searching for Schofield.
Schofield saw that some of the British commandos had tried to put on night-vision goggles.
But night vision would be useless now. With the station’s lights flickering on and off, anyone wearing night-vision goggles would be blinded every time the lights came on – which was every couple of seconds.
Schofield reached the main entrance passageway, just as an SAS soldier came bursting out of it onto the catwalk. The SAS man collided with Schofield, and Schofield was almost bowled over the catwalk’s railing.
The SAS man hit the deck, rose to his knees, raised his gun to fire but Schofield let fly with a powerful kick that connected with the SAS soldier’s jaw and sent him crashing down to the catwalk.
Schofield was about to step over the downed soldier’s body when suddenly he saw a large black satchel stretched over the man’s shoulder. Schofield grabbed it, opened it.
He saw two silver canisters inside the satchel. Two silver canisters with green bands painted around them.
Tritonal 80/20 charges.
Schofield frowned.
He had wondered earlier why the British would bring Tritonal charges to Wilkes Ice Station. Tritonal was an extremely powerful explosive, usually used for demolition purposes. Why would Barnaby have it here?
Schofield grabbed the satchel off the unconscious man’s shoulder.
As he did so, however, he heard shouts coming from inside the entrance passageway. Then he heard footsteps, and the click of safeties being removed from MP-5s.
The SAS commandos outside, the perimeter team . . .
They were coming back inside!
‘Kirsty! Get down!’ Schofield yelled. He spun quickly and brought both of his guns up just as the first SAS commando charged in through the main entrance of Wilkes Ice Station.
The first man went down in a hail of blood and bullets.
The second and the third learned from his error and they entered the station firing.
‘Back inside!’ Schofield yelled to Kirsty. ‘We can’t go this way!’
Schofield slid down the nearest rung-ladder with Kirsty on his back.
They hit B-deck. A bullet pinged off the steel ladder next to Schofield’s eyes.
Schofield heard more voices over his British headset:
‘– the fuck did he go –’
‘– took the girl! Killed Maurice, Hoddle and Hopkins –’
‘– saw him on A-deck