Waving the oil lamp, he led Giordino back to the Spirit Room. Setting the lamp on a long ice-covered crate, he stepped to a rack of Brown Bess muskets he had eyed earlier. Pulling one off the rack, he held it up and examined it closely, finding the weapon to be in pristine condition.

“It’s not an automatic, but it should even the odds a bit,” he said.

“I guess the previous owner won’t mind,” Giordino replied.

Pitt turned around, puzzled at his friend’s comment. He found Giordino pointing at the crate that supported the lamp. Pitt stepped closer, suddenly realizing it was no crate but a wooden coffin supported by a pair of saw-horses. The light from the whale oil lamp shimmered off a tin plate hammered to the enlarged end of the coffin. Leaning forward, Pitt brushed off a layer of loose ice, revealing a script of white lettering hand-painted on the tin. A chill ran up his spine as he read the epitaph.

SIR JOHN FRANKLIN

1786-1847

HIS SOUL BELONGS TO THE SEA

Chapter 81

81

ZAK WAITED UNTIL HIS SECURITY TEAM HAD closed in on Pitt and Giordino before leaving the warm confines of the icebreaker. Though he had no way of knowing for sure whether either man was Pitt, his instincts told him it was so.

“Thompson and White trailed them trying to move inland,” reported one of the mercenaries, who had returned to the ship. “There’s an old boat up onshore that they apparently climbed into.”

“A boat?” Zak asked.

“Yes, some old sailing ship. It’s lodged in a ravine and covered with ice.”

Zak glanced at the stolen Co-op map, which was lying on the chart table. Had he miscalculated again? Was it no mine at all but a ship that was the source of the Inuit ruthenium?

“Take me to the ship,” he barked. “I’ll go sort this out.”

The wind still blew in sporadic gusts, stinging his face as they trudged across the sea ice. The freshening winds began to clear the ground fog, and Zak could see down the coastline to where several of his men stood at the base of a narrow bluff. There was no sign of any ship, and he started to wonder if his security team had been out in the cold too long. But when he approached the ravine, he saw the massive black hull of the Erebus wedged against the ridge and he stared in wonderment. His attention was diverted by one of his approaching men.

“Their tracks lead up the gulch. We’re pretty certain they climbed aboard the ship,” said the man, the gap-toothed tough named White.

“Select two other men and board the ship,” Zak replied, as an additional five men gathered around him. “ The rest of you spread out on the beach, in case they try to backtrack.”