None of the researchers, because it wouldn’t make sense when they shared scientific data freely between them. Just recently, in fact, he’d pulled probably the most interesting core samples of his career and shared them with pretty much every researcher here.
Operations staff was even less likely to be interested in what he was doing out here. The mechanics would have the know-how to pull the drills apart, but with their sixteen-hour, six-day-a-week schedules, they lacked opportunity to do so. The same went for kitchen staff, fuelies, and sanitation folks.
Was it pure, angry sabotage?
He squinted hard out the windshield, willing the machine to go over twelve miles per hour.
The new guys had done it. Had to be. He should’ve listened to his gut about them. Not that it would’ve changed a thing.
An image of that blood came to him again. Jesus, he hoped Cortez was all right. If only he’d busted through his door last night.
If only he’d been paying more attention, he would’ve noticed trouble before it fell all around him. Somebody’d asked him about his drills recently. Who was that? Alex? No. No, it had been one of the new guys. Ben something. He’d claimed to have an interest in engineering, said someone had mentioned Coop’s drills. Damn it. Was he the guy behind this? Or that whole group?
Those assholes had never fit in here from the moment they’d arrived. Cleaners and mechanics, ostensibly, along with the new operations manager. But he’d seen the way their eyes took in a room. Cautious. Hypervigilant. And more than a little arrogant.
In hindsight, that arrogance was particularly telling. Not to mention worrisome.
He was grinding his teeth now, fighting the urge to get out and run. No matter how slow this machine felt, he couldn’t outrun—
Something cracked beyond the engine’s low rumble, and seconds later a gray smudge appeared on the horizon.
What the hell?
He yanked off his sunglasses, rubbed his eyes, and squinted in the direction of the Burke-Ruhe Research Station, where a plume of black smoke reached up into the white antarctic sky.
Chapter 8
Angel had never stared into such complete darkness, never strained to hear a sound in such absolute silence. Was that an explosion? Was it the power plant?
Please, God, what’s happening?
“Got company!” Sampson’s yell broke through the silence, stern and matter-of-fact. Through the pounding in her ears, Angel couldn’t tell which direction his voice had come from.
She slid around until she found a spot behind another shelving unit filled with big cardboard boxes. Toilet paper, she remembered. Great weapon to have at a time like this. For a split second, the idea of mummifying Sampson almost made her laugh.
Light sliced open the dark, solid as a knife through butter, blinding her, while footsteps converged from both ends of the arch.
They were coming for her.
Go!
It was some sixth sense that led her to the wall, instead of straight down the arch, and pure instinct that sent her to the low wooden door leading to the ice tunnels. Jameson had shown her around once. He loved it down here, had even hand-carved a few of the passages himself, but to her, they’d felt like a frigid tomb. Didn’t matter. She needed a place to hide.
The steps pounded closer, someone breaking off to search the tool room, someone else another storage area. There was no time.
With shaking hands, she slid back the lock and pulled. It wouldn’t budge. Another pull, with both hands this time, and still no give. The door, her only escape, was frozen shut.
No, no, no.
A wild look over her shoulder showed them approaching, one flashlight carving through the darkness within a few feet of her. She’d seen the emotionless way they’d killed Alex. Ten more steps and she was as good as dead.
No time to be quiet.
She tightened her hands on the door and heaved.
It flew open, smashing her nose in the process. It took every bit of control she had not to cry out. Quickly, blindly, she stepped in, pulled the door closed behind her, and waited.No, no waiting.She had to lock it, somehow, to keep them from following her in.
Oh God, was there even a lock on the inside?
