“He isn’t happy about it,” she said. “In the view of the United States we’re a commissioned government outpost that has come under enemy attack. At the same time, Article 1 of the Antarctic Treaty bars, and I quote, ‘all military activities, including weapons testing’ from the continent. It goes on to make an exception for military personnel and equipment used for scientific purposes, but that’s not pertinent. What is, is that the treaty was reinforced by the ’91 Madrid Protocol on Environmental Protection . . . and that they combine to put DoS in a logistic and political quandary. The U.S. doesn’t have a ready force anywhere close to us that could launch an effective search and counterstrike. And this is so off the board, no one’s ever contemplated a straightforward mechanism that would allow America to launch an armed venture.”

Nimec grunted.

“Not knowing who came at us makes it more complicated,” he said. “You have to wonder whether it’s a foreign government or an independent operator. Maybe even the same sons of bitches who put out a hit on the boss.”

“Agreed,” Megan said. “But let’s not jump ahead of ourselves. The outcome of Gord’s conversation with State is that we got what we wanted. They’re staying out of our way on this. Sword has been given an endorsement to act with broad discretion safeguarding Cold Corners against further threat, and it’s come from the highest level of government.”

Nimec looked at her.

“Deputy Pete,” he said.

Megan smiled thinly. “Something like that.”

Nimec nodded.

“I’m going to snag Russ Granger right away,” he said. “He had the snow-movers digging out his helicopter even before the wheels-down order was lifted this morning. Looks like he intends on flapping back to McMurdo, but there’s no chance he leaves base without taking me out over the Valleys like we planned before the storm.”

“However you choose to play it,” Megan said. “Under the circumstances—now that there’s no question we have enemies here—I thought you might elect to use one of our own pilots.”

Nimec shook his head.

“Not for the overflight,” he said. “You told me yourself that Granger knows the lay of the land better than anybody. And when I think about where those men in white came from, a big arrow pointing straight to Bull Pass flashes in my brain. If they’re down there and a bird with UpLink markings passes, you can bet they’re ducking for cover. Better they see one whose feathers they recognize and figure is harmless.”

“Which makes Russ’s NSF chopper perfect, since he does Dry Valley runs all the time.”