Ice Station - Matthew Reilly [64]
They had not offered any resistance. Indeed, as they had been dragged unceremoniously out of the cup-board to face their conquerors, the horror on their faces had said it all. They had backed the wrong side in this fight. The men they had deceived were now their captors. The price for their treachery would be high.
Both men had been taken down to E-deck where they were handcuffed to a pole in plain view. Schofield’s team had work to do and Schofield didn’t want to waste any of his manpower guarding the two French scientists. By cuffing the two Frenchmen to a pole out in the open, the Marines down on E-deck could work as well as keep an eye on them.
Schofield stepped out onto the B-deck catwalk. He was about to speak into his helmet mike when Sarah Hensleigh came out onto the catwalk behind him.
‘I have something I have to ask you,’ she said. ‘Something I couldn’t ask you back in the common room.’
Schofield held up a hand, spoke into his helmet mike: ‘Rebound. This is Scarecrow. How’s Samurai?’
Rebound’s voice came in over his earpiece. ‘I’ve managed to stop the bleeding for the moment, sir, but he’s still pretty bad.’
‘Stable?’
‘As stable as I’m gonna get him.’
‘All right, listen. I want you to go down to E-deck and grab that French scientist named Champion, Luc Champion,’ Schofield said. He looked at Sarah as he spoke. ‘I’ve just been informed that our good friend Monsieur Champion is a surgeon.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Rebound said eagerly. He seemed relieved that someone more qualified might be able to take over Samurai’s care. But then he seemed to check himself. ‘Uh, sir. . .’
‘What is it?’
‘Can we trust him?’
‘No,’ Schofield said firmly, as he began to climb up the rung-ladder toward A-deck. He motioned for Sarah to follow him up. ‘Not a wit. Rebound, you just tell him that if Samurai dies, so does he.’
‘Gotcha.’
Schofield reached the top of the rung-ladder and stepped up onto the A-deck catwalk. He helped Sarah up behind him. Almost immediately, he saw Rebound emerge from the dining room doorway not far away and jog for the opposite rung-ladder. He was going down to E-deck to get Champion.
Schofield and Sarah headed for the main entrance to the station. As they walked along the catwalk, Schofield looked down at the station beneath him and thought about his people.
They were scattered everywhere.
Montana was outside. Riley and Gant were down on E-deck, getting the scuba gear ready for the dive to the cave. Snake was smack in the middle, in the alcove on C-deck, fixing the winch controls. And Santa Cruz was nowhere to be seen, since he was off conducting a search of the station for erasers.
Christ, Schofield thought, they were spread all over the place.
Schofield’s helmet intercom crackled. It was Santa Cruz.
‘What is it, Private?’ Schofield said.
‘Sir, I’ve conducted a search of the station and I’ve found no sign of any erasing device.’
‘No erasers?’ Schofield frowned. ‘Nothing at all?’
‘Not a thing, sir. My guess is they didn’t expect things to happen so fast, so they didn’t get a chance to lay any.’
Schofield thought about that.
Cruz was probably right. The French team’s plan had undoubtedly been cut short by Buck Riley’s arrival at the station and his accidental discovery of what had really happened to the crashed French hovercraft. The French commandos’ plan had been to win the Americans’ trust and then shoot them in the back. Since that plan hadn’t come to fruition, it was no surprise that they hadn’t been able to set any erasers.
‘But I did find something, sir,’ Santa Cruz said.
‘What?’
‘I found a radio, sir.’
‘A radio?’ Schofield said dryly. It was hardly a mind-blowing discovery.
‘Sir, this ain’t no ordinary radio. It looks like a portable VLF transmitter.’
That got Schofield’s attention. A VLF, or very low frequency transmitter is a rare device. It has a frequency range of between 3 kHz and 30 kHz, which, in real terms, amounts to an unbelievably long wavelength. It is so long – or, in radio terms, so ‘heavy’ – that the radio signal travels as a