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Chapters (32)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Page
  3. Epigraph
  4. ONE
  5. TWO
  6. THREE
  7. FOUR
  8. FIVE
  9. SIX
  10. SEVEN
  11. EIGHT
  12. NINE
  13. TEN
  14. ELEVEN
  15. TWELVE
  16. THIRTEEN
  17. FOURTEEN
  18. FIFTEEN
  19. SIXTEEN
  20. SEVENTEEN
  21. EIGHTEEN
  22. NINETEEN
  23. TWENTY
  24. TWENTY-ONE
  25. TWENTY-TWO
  26. TWENTY-THREE
  27. TWENTY-FOUR
  28. TWENTY-FIVE
  29. TWENTY-SIX
  30. TWENTY-SEVEN
  31. TWENTY-EIGHT
  32. TWENTY-NINE

“I don’t think at all. One of the scientists was shot. Looks like he could bleed out. He needs to be in the OR as fast as we can get him there.” Whenever there was a mission under way, Dr. Huxley and her staff were standing by in Medical ready to treat anything that came their way.

Eddie glanced over and down the length of the submersible. Already the bench seats were full, and people were starting to sit on each other’s laps. It didn’t help that the wounded man took up four places while the doctor worked to save his life. They remained quiet, but all of them threw smiles Eddie’s way when they caught his eye.

“Doc,” Eddie called. “It’s going to take a half hour to reach our ship, but there’s a level-one trauma team standing by. What are his chances? Another man’s life might depend on your answer.”

The physician, a Norwegian on sabbatical down there in Antarctica because of his thirst for adventure, took his time and considered all the variables. “If it is as you say, this man will live if we leave in the next five minutes.”

Eddie turned back to his radio. “Max, I can give Juan ten minutes, then we have to go.” He figured the doctor would have given himself a little cushion.

“Every second you can spare. You hear me? Every second.”

Twelve minutes later, the sub sank into the black waters of the bay.

Cabrillo hadn’t shown.

TWENTY-NINE

TWENTY-NINE

THIRTY-SIX HOURS ELAPSED BEFORE THE WEATHER WAS clear enough for the Argentine government to send down another C-130 Hercules. In that short time, Antarctica reminded the men left stranded on the peninsula why humans were merely temporary interlopers on her shores. While not quite forced into cannibalism like some Uruguayan soccer team, the men were nearly helpless without the steady supply of natural gas. They’d been forced to use portable stoves to heat food and shared body heat to keep warm. Despite her damage, which included a holed bow, the Admiral Brown took on more than two hundred of the survivors, while the rest congregated in two of the dormitory buildings, huddled miserably while the interior temperatures plummeted.

General Philippe Espinoza was the first down the ramp when the big cargo plane came to a stop on the ice runway behind the base. Raul Jimenez was waiting and threw him a smart salute. The General had aged ten years in the week since Jimenez had seen him. Thick bags the size of grapes clung to his lower eyelids, and his normally florid complexion had gone pale.

“Any word of my son?” he asked immediately.

“I’m sorry, sir. No.” They stepped up into a waiting snowcat. “It is my duty to report that a group of four men were seen entering the gas-processing plant just a few minutes before the accident. Nothing of their remains has been found.”