Ice Station - Matthew Reilly [175]
‘Swell,’ Schofield said, looking at his watch.
‘Scarecrow. I’m sorry, but I can’t stay here. I’ve got to get my men to a safe distance. I’m sorry but you’re on your own now, buddy.’
Schofield looked at his watch.
It was 10:32 p.m.
Twenty-eight minutes. The nuclear missile would hit Wilkes Ice Station at 11:00 p.m.
Schofield looked up at the group around him. Sarah Hensleigh, Renshaw, Kirsty and Wendy. And Gant. It was only then that Schofield realised that Gant was in the tunnel, too, sitting down on the icy floor. He saw the ugly red stain in her side and rushed over to her.
‘Montana?’ he said.
Gant nodded.
‘Where is he?’ Schofield asked.
‘He’s dead. The seals got him. But he killed Santa Cruz and he winged me.’
‘Are you okay?’
‘No,’ Gant winced.
It was then that Schofield saw the wound. It was a gut-shot, to the side of Gant’s stomach. The bullet must have sneaked past the clasp on the side of her body armour. It wasn’t a nice wound to have – a gut-shot was a slow and painful way to die.
‘Hold on,’ Schofield said. ‘We’ll get you outta here –’
He began to move Gant, but as he did so, Gant brushed roughly against his leg and dislodged something from his ankle pocket.
It was a silver locket.
Sarah Hensleigh’s silver locket. The locket that she had given to Schofield before she had gone down to the cave.
The locket landed face-down on the icy ground and in a fleeting instant, Schofield saw the writing engraved on the back of it:
To Our Daughter,
Sarah Therese Parkes
On Your Twenty-First Birthday.
Schofield froze when he saw the engraving. He quickly pulled out his printed copy of Andrew Trent’s e-mail.
He scanned the list of ICG informers.
And he found it.
PARKES, SARAH T. USC PLNTLGST
Schofield snapped up to look at Sarah Hensleigh.
‘What’s your maiden name, Sarah?’ he asked.
Snick-snick.
Schofield heard the sound of the gun cocking before he saw it emerge from behind Sarah Hensleigh’s back.
Sarah Hensleigh held the pistol out at arm’s length, pointed it at Schofield’s head. With her spare hand, she pulled Santa Cruz’s helmet headset out from behind her and adjusted the channel dial on the belt clip. She spoke into the headset.
‘SEAL team, this is Hensleigh. Come in.’
There was no reply. Hensleigh frowned.
‘SEAL team, this is Hensleigh. Come in.’
‘There’s no one up there, Sarah,’ Schofield said, cradling Gant in his arms. ‘They’ve evacuated the station. They’re gone. There’s a cruise missile on its way here right now and it’s nuclear, Sarah. Those SEALs are long gone. We have to get out of here, too.’
Suddenly, Schofield heard a voice come over Sarah’s headset. ‘Hensleigh, this is SEAL Commander Riggs. Report.’
Schofield cringed, looked at his watch.
10:35 p.m. Twenty-five minutes to go.
He wasn’t to know that the SEALs up in the station had switched over to a closed-circuit channel to launch their attack on Wilkes. He wasn’t to know that they didn’t know about the nuclear missile coming toward the station.
Hensleigh said, ‘SEAL commander. I have the Marine leader down here with me in the cavern. I have him under forced arrest.’
‘We’ll be down there soon, Hensleigh. You have authority to kill him if you have to. Seal team out.’
‘Sarah, what are you doing?’ Renshaw said.
‘Shut up,’ Hensleigh said, swinging the gun round so that its cold barrel touched Renshaw’s nose. ‘Get over there,’ she said, waving Renshaw and Kirsty to Schofield’s side of the tunnel. Schofield noticed that Sarah Hensleigh held the gun with confidence and authority. She had used guns before.
Schofield said, ‘Where are you from, Sarah? Army or Navy?’ Sarah looked at him for a moment. Then she said, ‘Army.’
‘What section?’
‘I was at the CDC in Atlanta for a while. Then I did some work for the Chem Weapons Division. And then, wouldn’t