Flynn nodded grimly. “And that’s not an option.”

“I sure wish it was, Nick,” Van Horn told him, sounding even more worried. “As it is, JBER’s on the radio every five minutes, asking for a status update.” With an obvious effort, she forced herself to appear more confident. “I’ve gotta say, though, this ‘Hey, sorry, Skater, but I have to make a parachute jump into the wilderness’ deal is kind of a sleazy way to duck out on that next gourmet meal you promised me.”

He couldn’t stop a short, sharp laugh. “Yeah, well, that did take some serious organizing. I had to pull strings all the way to Moscow and the Pentagon to set up this stunt.”

Van Horn reached up and thwacked him gently in the forehead. “Idiot. Most guys would just have said they’d lost my phone number.”

“Oh, crap,” Flynn said in mock horror. “That would have been smarter. And much, much easier to arrange.” Then he sobered up again. “Is everything else set?”

She nodded. “Everybody else is aboard and strapped in. Sergeant Wahl’s got the anchor cables rigged for your parachutes. He says the pallet with your snow machines and sleds and extra gear is ready to drop, too. Or, in his words, as ready as he can make it with a bunch of amateurs for helpers.”

Flynn glanced at his watch one last time. He sighed. “Okay, then. I guess that’s it. But it sure sucks to have to go without my NCO or my radioman.”

“Uh, Nick?” Van Horn said suddenly, turning him back around to face the road from Kaktovik. She pointed at a figure trotting toward them from out of the darkness. “Isn’t that Sergeant Takirak?”

His eyes widened in relief. “Yeah, it is.” Without thinking, he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Tell Major Ingalls we’re go for takeoff as soon as Andy’s had time to get into his parachute harness and check over his weapons and equipment.”

With a wry glint in her eye, Van Horn nodded and hurried away.

Flynn moved out to meet Takirak. The other man had a jagged cut across his forehead, and he was pale and drawn.

“Jesus Christ, Andy!” Flynn exclaimed. “What happened to you? And where’s M-Squared?”

“Mitchell happened to me,” the National Guard sergeant said angrily. “I found him okay, but when I briefed him on the mission, that son of a bitch said he wouldn’t go. He said it was nuts and he hadn’t signed up to kill himself.”

Flynn frowned. It figured that Mitchell would be the one man to react so strongly. The red-headed airman probably had a more vivid imagination than anyone else on the team—certainly vivid enough to see all the ways this night drop and planned trek through the wilderness could go very badly wrong. “Then what?”

“I told him I didn’t give a crap about what he thought,” Takirak said tightly. “And that he was going whether he liked it or not. And that’s when the bastard cold-cocked me with a loose board and took off.” He reached up, gingerly felt the cut on his forehead, and winced. “By the time I got back to my feet, Mitchell was long gone.” He looked embarrassed. “I’m really sorry I let him jump me like that, Captain. I never saw it coming.”