Ice Station Wolfenstein

Chapter 23

Alexandr turned around, or at least turned as far as he could in the tight space, to look at Nina and Fatima. He raised a finger to his lips, but it was hardly necessary. Both women were well aware of the need for silence, especially at this point in their journey. Nina in particular wished that he would skip the dramatic gesture and just get on with leading them through the vents. It was dark and cramped and she was fighting the urge to have a proper claustrophobic meltdown.

When Alexandr had suggested that they use the air vents to get back into the labs, Nina had laughed. Despite the gravity of their situation, she found the idea of the three of them scrambling through the ventilation system like action heroes irresistibly funny — especially considering her fear of enclosed spaces. It was only when Alexandr dragged the chest of drawers over to the back wall, climbed on top of them and began unscrewing the vent cover that she realized that he was entirely serious.

She had protested then, saying that he must be mad and that there was no way it would work outside of a movie. But Alexandr had insisted that there was no other way of getting past the soldiers — unless Nina and Fatima were prepared to entertain the idea of killing them, which they were not. Nina did not even want to think about how Alexandr would have attempted to kill the PMCs. If there was anything worse than being trapped in an enclosed space with a crazy guide, it was being trapped in an enclosed space with a homicidal one.

Inch by inch they crawled right over the top of the PMCs at the end of the corridor. The first problem they ran into was the vent dropping away steeply, plunging downward to serve the other levels. Alexandr peered down into the darkness, muttering something to himself. Then he wriggled a hand down to his pocket and pulled out a tiny obsidian pebble. Carefully he released it and cocked his head to listen as it fell. Just on the edge of hearing, there was a tiny scraping sound wherever the stone touched the metal.

At the back of the line, Nina heard Fatima gasp then try to stifle it. Nina raised her head just far enough to see Alexandr's feet tipping up and disappearing into the black hole. Neither woman breathed. Then seconds later, they heard the soft, barely audible sound of Alexandr's laugh floating back to them. A sharp intake of breath from Fatima, then she also vanished into the darkness.

Nina dragged herself forward on her forearms and stared down the shaft. She felt her breathing becoming ragged and short. Adrenaline surged through her veins. All she wanted was to claw at the sheet metal and rip her way out into the cool open air of the corridors. She would take her chances with the soldiers, she would fight her way out if she had to, she would—

Then the vision of the silent ice station peopled only by skeletons flashed through her mind, and she realized that she had no choice. I feel like I'm going to die in here, she thought. I have no idea how I could plunge head-first down this pipe and not die. But if I don't do this, none of us are making it out of here… Forcing herself to take a few deep breaths, she inched toward the edge. She reached down and felt the drop, and suddenly she realized that it was not completely vertical. It fell away at just enough of an incline that she would have some control over the descent. Nina gritted her teeth and hauled herself into the chute.

"It's a long drop," Alexandr whispered, staring down through the gap left by the ceiling tile he had just removed. "If I can get to the other side I can lower you down part of the way. Wait there."

Jamming his limbs precariously against the walls of the metal tunnel, he clambered over to the other side of the hole and maneuvered himself around so that he was face to face with Fatima. "Here," he said, holding out his hands to her. "Take my wrists. Bend your knees when you hit the floor."

Fatima did as she was told, wriggling herself into position over the hole then letting Alexandr lower her as far as he could before she dropped. As soon as Fatima was out of sight, Nina charged forward as best she could in an army crawl, spurred on by the prospect of being in a room rather than a tunnel. She grabbed his wrists and let gravity take her, collapsing gratefully onto the floor as her shaking knees refused to hold her up. A moment later she heard Alexandr drop down behind her.

"I'll get the lights," Fatima whispered. "They're right over here."

"No lights!" Alexandr hissed. "They're bound to be patrolling. We need to work as far back within the room as we can, and with just the flashlights. Come with me — and stay down."

Crouched low, they scurried over to the workbench and sheltered behind it, letting its solid mass conceal them from the eyes of any PMC who might pass the glass door.

"This is going to be impossible," Fatima sighed. "How am I supposed to do anything if I can't access the bench?"

"It's only temporary," Alexandr reassured her. "I will figure out something to do with the window."

"Ok, we'll get to work in the meantime," said Nina, grabbing the pile of notebooks. "Are we in the right lab for the blood samples?"

"No, they're across the hall."

"Oh, they bloody would be…" Nina rolled her eyes. "Right, I'll be back in a moment."

"Nina, you should let me—"

"No, Alexandr, it's fine," she held up a hand. "You sort out the window. Let Fatima get set up. I can do this."

By the time Nina got back, Fatima was setting up her test tubes on the floor and had a box of samples retrieved from the freezers beside her. Alexandr had found a thick black liquid and was spattering the window with it. Nina handed the vials of blood over to Fatima.

"So, what's the plan?"

"I have an idea," said Fatima. "My original plan, before the expedition got hijacked, was to spend some time investigating the antiviral properties of a particular kind of blue algae indigenous to Antarctica. Evidently I'm not the first person to have been interested in it, since we found those samples in the freezers, but whoever was investigating it previously never got to complete their research. I'm going to try to create a vaccine using the algae and Private Hodges' blood samples. It'll be a killed vaccine, so I don't know whether it will save him, but… at least we'll have tried. And at least it might protect everyone else. Though I'm not sure that these algae samples are going to be any use after being frozen for so long. What we really need is a live vaccine and fresh algae. Oh, and a few years of peer review and clinical trials would be good, too."

"I have faith," Nina said, patting her friend on the shoulder. "If anyone can do this, you can. And if not… well, like you say, at least we'll know that we didn't go down without a fight, right? And I'll be right here holding the torch."

Pulling a pair of latex gloves from her pocket and slipping them on, Fatima gritted her teeth and prepared to get to work.

"Freeze! Hands in the air!"

The beams of light from the PMCs' helmets crisscrossed in the dark. As Nina slowly got to her feet and put her hands up, her heart began to pound beneath the red dots picking out targets on her chest. Fatima's hands shot up so fast that she did not even remember to put the pipette she was holding down.

"What's that in your hand?" Major Alfsson barked. "Drop it, now!"

"Please," Fatima's voice was rapid, urgent. "Please, let me put it down gently. It's a vaccine."

Alfsson strode over to her and snatched the pipette from her hand. "A vaccine? What for?"

"For the virus that Private Hodges and those other two men have. I think—"

"Two." Under his breath, Alfsson gave a bitter laugh. "You still only know about two."

"There are more?"

"That is classified," Alfsson replied. "You must all return to your quarters. Now. Or we will have no choice but to open fire." He took hold of Fatima's arm and began guiding her toward the door.

"PLEASE!" Fatima cried out in desperation, digging her heels into the floor. "Please! I have something here that might save those men — that might save everybody! Can you at least let me test it?"

"She has a point," Alexandr chimed in, briefly attracting extra red dots on his abdomen. "Why not let her try?"

"Surely it has to be better than just letting everyone die without even trying," Nina added.

Major Alfsson paused, irresolute for just a few seconds. Then with one quick gesture he called off the alert. The red dots disappeared. "You can try," he said, and Nina could hear the resignation in his voice. "Is it ready now?"

"I think so."

"Then let's go."

Fatima gathered up the test tubes and pipettes, arranged them neatly in a freezer box, and let the soldiers escort her, Nina, and Alexandr through the maze of corridors toward the padded room and, she hoped, the proof that they were all saved.

Fatima's hands were rock steady as she inserted the needle into Private Hodges' vein and pushed the plunger. He was securely strapped to his bed, completely exhausted after his self-destructive exertions, and his face was crusted with his own dried blood. He snarled and snapped at Fatima with as much energy as he could muster, but the attempts were weak.

Only when Fatima had withdrawn the needle and returned the syringe to its box did her hands start to shake. Not just her hands. Nina could see Fatima's legs trembling.

"Now what happens?" Alfsson asked. "What signs do we look for?"

"Now I inject the others," Fatima said. "And then we wait and see if they return to being themselves."

Nina and Alexandr were escorted back to quarters after that. Only Fatima was permitted to stay and observe the condition of Hodges and the other infected soldiers. To Nina's alarm, Fatima had also insisted on injecting herself with a dose of the vaccine. Nina had protested that she should see how it affected the infected men first, but Fatima had pointed out that by that time, it could be too late for her and that if it didn't work they were all doomed anyway. Reluctantly, Nina had agreed and returned to her room to wait out the night.

She wanted to go and see Sam, to tell him all about the turn that the day had taken, but when they arrived at the officers' quarters the number of PMCs in the corridor had increased. There was now a soldier outside every occupied room.

"What's all this about?" she demanded, addressing the soldier stationed at her door.

"Major Alfsson's orders," he replied. "In light of your escape attempt, all members of your expedition are to be kept apart except at mealtimes. We have also checked your rooms for possible escape routes and sealed them up. Now, please step inside."

Battling the urge to argue, Nina walked into her room and heard the door click shut behind her. Once safely inside, she grabbed her empty backpack and dropkicked it across the room.

The next morning the soldiers came around and knocked on everyone's doors to summon them to breakfast. Nina had planned to update Sam while they were in the refectory, but as the group marched down the stairs and sat around the long table, the PMCs barked orders at them not to speak. Purdue tried to negotiate with them, of course — but Major Alfsson himself pointed his gun at Purdue's head.

"No need for that, major," Admiral Whitsun stepped in and diverted the barrel of major Alfsson's gun before Blomstein could intervene to protect his employer. "I'm sure everyone will be happy to accede to your request." He turned to the rest of the group. "Won't we?" A flurry of emphatic nods was the response. As much as the expedition members might want to argue, it was increasingly clear that Major Alfsson genuinely would shoot if provoked.

Fatima appeared when they were nearly finished with their tense, silent breakfast. The look on her face told Nina everything she needed to know. Private Hodges was dead or dying, and if Fatima's tears were anything to go by it had not been pretty. She refused all offers of food but accepted a cup of coffee, which she could not bring herself to drink. She sat with her eyes pressed shut, one hand tightly clamped over her mouth, rocking gently back and forth. Nina took her free hand and squeezed it.

As they sat in silence the group heard the crackle of a voice speaking to Major Alfsson over his radio headset. It was too faint for them to make out the words, but the expression on Alfsson's face was grim. He said little, merely making affirmative noises, until the voice fell silent and he addressed the group.

"I have just had confirmation from my second-in-command," he said. "Dr. al-Fayed's attempt at curing the infected men has not worked. The virus continues to spread."

"In that case, Alexandr and I should strike out for Neumayer at once," Jefferson Daniels spoke up. "As the two most experienced trekkers, we have the best chance of making it there on foot. Then they can send medical assistance."

Major Alfsson shook his head. "No. Given the unknown nature of this virus, we cannot risk exposing the rest of the world to it. Our only possible course of action is to remain here, in quarantine, and let the disease run its course. We have ample supplies. Once we have gone fourteen days without a new case, then we will attempt contact with Neumayer again."

"We'll all be dead," Fatima said softly, half to herself.

"We've done a thorough sweep of the station," Major Alfsson continued, "and you'll find men posted at every possible exit. Please refrain from any further escape attempts — if you are caught trying to leave the station you will be shot on sight. However, now that we have covered all the exits, you can move freely about this part of the station again." He rose and signaled his men. "I am sorry that it came to this." They departed in the direction of the far section of the station, leaving the expedition party alone together.

For a while, no one spoke. Out of habit, Sam went to heat more water for tea. Nina put a comforting arm around Fatima and tried to encourage her to drink her coffee.

"I owe you all an apology." Admiral Whitsun sat bolt upright, his hands neatly folded on the table. He looked around the group, meeting each pair of eyes with a clear, forthright gaze. "This is my fault," he said. "I insisted on joining this expedition knowing that I am, in point of fact, too old and infirm to be here. Were it not for my infirmity, that set of vials would never have been knocked over and this virus would never have been released. I am terribly sorry."

Sam, standing by the door to the galley kitchen, watched everyone avoiding one another's eyes. They all knew that it was true that the admiral had put them at risk, and whatever their opinions were on his culpability in spreading the virus, no one wanted to share them. It was Sam who spoke first. "Look, don't worry about it," he said, silently marveling at the ridiculousness of his words. He's released a deadly virus, he thought, not spilled my pint. Yet he continued. "You fell over. It could have been any one of us."

"Yes," Admiral Whitsun said, "but the fact remains that it was me. I brought this terrible thing on us."

Sam shrugged. "Nothing anyone can do about it now."

"I disagree, Mr. Cleave. I can at least try to put things right. Mr. Purdue, I wonder whether I might borrow Mr. Blomstein from you for a little while."

At once, Purdue and Blomstein moved to join Admiral Whitsun, who led them off into the corridor. Whatever the admiral's plan, the rest of the group was clearly not to be included.

"I wonder what that was about," Sam said. "So what's our plan? Major Alfsson said something about an antidote. Are we looking for one?"

"We can't," said Nina. "The labs are over on the PMCs' side of the station, and from what Alfsson said I think that's out of bounds."

"Shit. Ok. Anyone got any other ideas?"

"We should make some kind of record of our time here," Professor Matlock spoke up. "We may have been the first to find this place since it was abandoned, but I doubt that we shall be the last. Let us put together a report on our time here, something that will explain how we came to be here and what we found. Perhaps then we can spare our successors the same fate — or, if we get out of here alive, it can become the basis for an account of our exploits."

Sam pounced on the idea at once, delighted to have something productive to do. "Sounds great," he said. "Someone take over making the tea and I'll run up and get my notepad."