Ice Station Wolfenstein

Chapter 25

At the top of the stairs, Admiral Whitsun took a left turn along the dark corridor that led to the surface. Slowly but steadily, he made his way up the slope until he reached the door by which they had initially entered. It took all the strength he had to turn the wheel that opened it, but after a certain amount of groaning and wheezing he managed it.

He stepped outside, into the frozen landscape, and looked up at the clear white sky. From his coat pocket he pulled the small satellite phone that he had discreetly taken from the corpse of Major Alfsson, flipped it open and dialed.

"I'm ready," he said. "Send the transport."

"You're kidding, right? Tell me you are kidding."

"I'm not, Jefferson," Fatima was scrutinizing the sonar. "We're really deep down, and there's a solid mass above us. There's nowhere we can surface around here."

"And nobody thought to check this before we set off?" Daniels' face was turning livid pink beneath the tan.

"It's not like there was a map!" Fatima snapped. "Nobody was exactly planning this!"

"Ok, ok," Sam took Jefferson by the shoulders and steered him away. "Come on. Let's try to keep our cool. We've been making steady progress for a while now, we'll find somewhere soon."

"We're not looking for a motorway service station, Mr. Cleave," Professor Matlock joined in. "We have been sailing for around forty minutes. Unless we find a place to surface within the next fifteen minutes or so, we will run out of oxygen. You do know what happens in that eventuality, don't you?"

"Stop talking!" Fatima snarled, her gaze never wandering from the sonar. "The more you talk, the more air you use up."

Jefferson and Professor Matlock clearly wanted to argue, but they knew that she was right. They fell into a surly silence. Sam picked his way along the U-boat toward the navigation area, where Purdue and Blomstein were waiting for any new information from Fatima to tell them where to go. The division of tasks had happened swiftly and naturally. Alexandr had taken responsibility for the engine room. Fatima, who had done a few dives before, knew how to read sonar. Blomstein had served aboard a submarine previously, although he did not divulge the circumstances. Sam and Nina were acting as runners, transferring communication from one part of the boat to the others. In theory they were sharing this task with Jefferson and Professor Matlock, but they could not be torn away from the sonar, where they waited desperately for any signs of open water. Sam shot Nina a smile as they crossed paths. He was not feeling particularly brave, but he knew that she was struggling to keep her claustrophobia under control and wanted to be supportive.

"Anything?" Purdue asked as Sam entered. Sam shook his head. "I see," said Purdue. "I will start looking for any oxygen tanks, then."

Sam nodded and slumped against the door. Is this really going to be it? he wondered. I never thought I'd suffocate in a cramped metal tube beneath the Antarctic Ocean…

"We've got one!" Fatima yelled. "Prepare to take her up!"

The hatch creaked open. Purdue was first to climb out. They found themselves in a vast grotto, hewn from the ice by the hot springs, with dripping stalactites reaching down from the high ceiling. Nina had never felt as small as she did in that space, nor so glad to be in a cavernous chamber.

When they were done with gulping down lungfuls of the fresh, salty air, they made their way down the ladder. By great good fortune, the grotto contained a small outcropping of rocks that was within jumping distance and made a decent makeshift dock. Once on the rocks they had to clamber over a little mound to reach the plateau on the other side.

"Oh!" Purdue stopped as he reached the top of the mound. He looked around at the others. "You might want to prepare yourselves," he said. "We are evidently not the only travelers ever to have found our way into this cave, and some of you might find the presence of our predecessors a little distressing."

This stopped some of the others in their tracks, but Sam's curiosity got the better of him and he could see that the same was true for Nina. Sam was secretly pleased to see that the bodies that lay scattered across the plateau had long since decomposed and were now just skeletons. After his encounter with the murdered soldiers, he was in no hurry to see any more fresh corpses.

Much more disturbing than the dead bodies was the rusted, partly-submerged U-boat. Evidently there was more than one point of access to the grotto, but this party had never made it out again. Perhaps it was because their own means of exit was by no means certain, but Sam found the sight of the abandoned boat quite chilling.

Alexandr and Nina, on the other hand, were exhilarated. They scrambled straight onto the plateau and rushed toward the objects of their fascination — in Nina's case the corpses, which she wanted to examine, and in Alexandr's case the defunct submarine, which he wanted to plunder for fuel.

"Stop!" Fatima's voice rang out urgently, amplified and echoed back by the cavern's acoustics. "Nina, Alexandr, wait!"

But it was too late. Nina was already on her knees next to the nearest skeleton, her fingers in the pocket of its duffel coat, and Alexandr had reached the U-boat and laid a hand on its rusty surface.

"Oh, shit…" said Fatima, "What have you done?"

"What?" Nina asked. "What's the matter?"

"Where do you think that U-boat came from?" Fatima demanded. "Because I'll bet it came from one of those empty spaces in the dock at Wolfenstein. What if these guys were trying to escape from exactly the same thing that we were? We don't know what they died of. We don't know whether it's something that's still alive — and we may just have exposed ourselves to it, again."

Sam felt a prickling, uneasy sensation creeping up the back of his neck. "But we've been vaccinated now, right? So we should be ok?"

"Some of us were vaccinated," Fatima said darkly. "And for all I know, it could have mutated over time. If we're looking at a different strain, my vaccine won't be worth a damn — assuming that it ever was in the first place."

"Shit," said Sam. He waited for the feelings of doom and hopelessness to take hold, but all he felt was a certain resignation. "Look, does anyone mind if I smoke?"

An argument broke out after that, of course. Accusations flew as everyone blamed one another for the danger they were now in. There were recriminations about whether they should have taken the U-boat, whether they should have opened the locked doors in Wolfenstein, whether they should have set out for Antarctica in the first place. None of it brought them to any kind of conclusion except that if they were infected it was too late to do anything about it, and they were not going to be rescued down here.

"The device needs a satellite connection to work," Purdue lamented, prodding idly at the tiny, paper-thin device in his hand. "That will have to be my next challenge, I think. Building a device that satisfactorily avoids the normal constraints placed on communications."

"So we must reach the surface," Alexandr said. "There is likely to be a little fuel left onboard the other boat. Give me long enough to transfer it to our own tanks and we will try again."

While Alexandr busied himself with siphoning fuel from the defunct U-boat, Sam joined Nina by the skeletons. She was carefully searching through their pockets, trying not to disturb them more than was strictly necessary.

"I just want to find something that tells me who they are," she said, placing the contents of their pockets a little pile at each skeleton's feet. "Presumably they either came from the ice station or were on their way to it. Their uniforms aren't from the 1940s, and this one has an appointment diary from 1953."

1953! Sam suddenly remembered Karl Witzinger's letter. His hands flew to his pockets, feeling for the leather wallet, but he found nothing but a filled-up memory card and a lighter. He checked his inside pocket. Nothing. It's in my backpack, isn't it? He thought. Along with my camera. And my tobacco pouch. All sitting neatly next to my bunk… Shit.

"What's up?" Nina asked, seeing him searching for something. "What have you lost?"

Sam opened his mouth to tell her about Witzinger's letter and how these skeletons were probably the scientists who had attempted to escape from the ice station, but at that moment Alexandr called out to them.

"We have all the fuel we are likely to get," he cried. "So let's get out of here!"

Nina stuffed the skeletons' possessions into her pockets. "Sorry lads," she said, "but you're not going to need them, and I might. Come on, Sam."

Admiral Whitsun alighted from the hovercraft in a remote bay. He crossed the beach, marching smartly past a small cohort of PMCs, and made his way to a small speedboat, which was waiting to transport him to the destroyer anchored nearby.

"Welcome back, sir!" His second-in-command, Captain Belvedere, saluted as Admiral Whitsun stepped onto the boat. "Did things go well?"

"Exceptionally well, Captain Belvedere," Whitsun replied as they sped across the water. "The virus is definitely still live and highly communicable. Our friends in the East will pay a great deal for it. However, there was one slight hitch — I believe that the rest of the expedition party might attempt to make an escape, and if they do we need to be ready for them. Either they will come by land, in which case the platoons surrounding Neumayer will deal with them, or they will find a way to get that old submarine working. Oh, it seems unlikely, I know. But I may have underestimated both Mr. Purdue and the guide. In retrospect I should simply have killed them all. Mr. Blomstein might have posed me a problem there, but perhaps he could have been paid off and recruited. The others… I should have contented myself with seeing Mr. Cleave dead, rather than succumbing to the temptation to leave him and his friends to die slowly. But forgive me, I am allowing myself to be distracted. If they succeed in making it to the surface, they will emerge somewhere to the southwest of Deception Island. While our colleagues recover the biological material from Wolfenstein and prepare it for transport, we shall wait near Deception Island. If that submarine appears, we shall destroy it."

"Oh god… I don't know if I can. I'm sorry." Nina physically recoiled from the black hole on the top of the submarine. "I just can't. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"Come on, Nina," Alexandr cajoled. "It is only a submarine. If you do not get in we have to leave you here with the skeletons."

She stood by the hatch, staring down into it, her head full of images of the tiny submarine surrounded by the vastness of the ocean. She could see the U-boat collapsing under the pressure of the water, or losing power and sinking like a stone, or running out of oxygen as they had so nearly done before.

"I can't," she moaned, digging her fingers into her scalp. Her breathing was harsh and ragged, and tears were beginning to stream down her face. "Please don't…"

Purdue was watching Nina from the bottom of the ladder. "She's not going to come down of her own free will." He turned to Blomstein. "We need her to get aboard. Take care of it."

Without a word, Blomstein climbed up to the hatch. Nina had sunk to her knees on the little platform and was clinging to the rails with one hand. The other covered her face. There was blood under her fingernails where she had anxiously dug them into her skin. Blomstein bent down to lift her up, intending to carry her bodily into the sub.

"Get the fuck off me!" Nina screamed. She lashed out at Blomstein with both hands, clawing at his face and kicking out wildly as he lifted her up. For a moment he struggled to keep his grip on her, but only for a moment. Nina's small frame was easy enough for him to subdue. She continued to scream and writhe as he pinned her arms to her sides and threw her over his shoulder. She landed several kicks on his abdomen, but Blomstein was indifferent to both her kicks and her shrieks as he began to climb down the ladder.

When they reached the bottom, Blomstein dropped Nina unceremoniously, knocking the wind out of her. "She is mad," he said, pressing the back of his hand against his bleeding cheek.

"No, she's not," said Purdue, helping her up. "She's just claustrophobic. Let's not rush to any conclusions, Ziv. Let's all get back to our stations. I'll take Nina through to Sam, he's helping Alexandr in the engine room. He can keep an eye on her."

"Oh, great idea," Jefferson sneered. "Get her boyfriend to watch her. Because he's going to be the first one to report it if she starts freaking out."

"He's not my boyfriend…" Nina whispered, still winded.

"If she's got the virus, we're all dead," Jefferson said. "We'd be doing her a favor by just putting a bullet in her head right now."

Purdue's face went a shade paler than usual. "Mr. Daniels," he said, gathering Nina close to him, "if I hear any further suggestions along those lines, it will not be her who gets a bullet in the head. She is perfectly well. Now go and ask Dr. al-Fayed if she is ready to set off. With Sam taking care of Nina, we will need you and Professor Matlock to run messages between stations this time."

With difficulty, Purdue helped Nina through the small hatches that led from one section of the submarine to another. Jefferson and Blomstein watched them go, then shared a silent moment of agreement before going about their assigned tasks.

"Open water!" Fatima's voice rang out through the submarine. "We're coming up for open water, dead ahead!"

Alexandr gave a jubilant whoop and waved the oil can in his hand. He was performing a complicated dance with the neglected machinery, racing back and forth as the legs of the motor whirred and thumped. Every time one of them stuck due to long inactivity, Alexandr would hear the missed step in the dance and rush over to oil it and manually operate it until it was back in rhythm.

"Not much longer now!" he called to Sam and Nina over the clatter of the motor. "Soon we will have fresh air and wide open skies, Nina! Think of it!"

Curled up in the corner of the engine room, Nina could not reply. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. All she could think about was the metal tube she was in, the crushing weight of the water that lay between it and the surface, and the walls closing in around her. She tightened her grip on Sam's hand and tried as hard as she could not to whimper.

By the time the U-boat broke the surface of the water, Nina was standing at the bottom of the exit ladder and Sam was at the top of it, his hands on the wheel that opened the hatch, just waiting for the all clear to open it.

"We're up!" Purdue dived through the little doorway, shouting the news at the top of his voice. "We are officially above ground for the first time in days! Let's see some daylight, Sam!"

The trapdoor swung open, sending an icy shower of salt water splashing down over Sam, Nina, and Purdue. Sam laughed aloud as the cold liquid crashed over his face. They were out of the ice station, they were alive, and he was elated. He pulled himself up through the hatch and onto the observation platform, making room for Nina and Purdue to climb up behind him.

Slate blue water stretched out ahead of them, dotted with ice floes as far as the eye could see. Behind them lay the ice field that they had just sailed under, and above them the sky was white and streaked with dark-grey clouds. It was the most welcome sight that any of the trio had ever seen.

Sam laid his hand over Nina's on the rail and gave it a squeeze. "There we go," he said. "You've made it."

"I've never seen anything so beautiful," Nina said, managing a faint smile.

"You'll be all right now," Sam reassured her. "We'll be able to stay up here until Purdue's boat arrives to pick us up. No more tin tubes for — oh!" Without warning, Nina flung her arms around Sam's waist and hugged him tightly.

"I thought we were never going to get out of there," she sighed. "I can't believe I lost it like that. I'm so sorry."

"Well, this is odd," Purdue muttered distractedly. He had his tiny communications device in the palm of his hand and was tapping it, staring at it, then tapping it again.

"What's wrong?"

"The boat is not receiving my communications." He frowned and looked up at the sky. "Extreme weather conditions would explain it, but there should be nothing interfering on such a clear day. The device is functioning perfectly." Frustrated, he sighed through gritted teeth. "I told them that only the captain was authorized to use that equipment! If I find out that someone else touched it and damaged it, I will make sure that not a single member of the crew ever sails again. Excuse me." He climbed back down the ladder, and as he descended Sam and Nina heard him calling to Alexandr, telling him that they needed to find the flares.

Captain Belvedere strode across the observation deck, halted beside Admiral Whitsun and saluted. The admiral was glaring out across the waters, watching the distress flares shoot into the air and flicker out as they fell.

"We have their position, sir," Belvedere reported.

"You do surprise me," Admiral Whitsun replied dryly. "Are they in the vicinity of those signal flares, perhaps?"

"Yes, sir…"

"Well then. Intercept course. And as soon as we have them in range — open fire."

Nina bounced up and down and waved her arms, nearly hitting both Sam and Purdue in the face. "We're here!" she called to the distant ship.

"They know, Nina," Sam laughed. "Look — they're heading straight for us, they'll be here in no time."

Purdue caught hold of Nina's arm, stopping her in mid-wave. His face was ashen. "That is not the boat I chartered," he said. "That's a destroyer. Luzhou class. Of Chinese origin. And it's — get down!"

He grabbed Sam and Nina and dragged them down just as the first missile crashed into the water nearby. It sent up a wave that drenched all three of them.

"Dive! Dive!" Purdue shouted as he pushed Nina onto the ladder. "Arichenkov! Blomstein! Dive, now!"

Sam was last down the ladder. With all the strength of terror he hauled the trapdoor into place and spun the wheel to seal it shut, then slipped and fell from the ladder as the submarine went into a steep nosedive. He picked himself up from the floor, only to be sent flying again as the U-boat was rocked by the impact from another missile narrowly missing them.

Blomstein dragged Sam to his feet. "You need to take the rudder," he said. "Just keep us pointing in the direction we're going." The bodyguard dropped his large frame low to swing through the hatch.

"Ziv!" Purdue called after him. "Where are you going?"

"Torpedoes!" Blomstein's voice echoed back, then he was too far gone to communicate.

Sam rushed through to the navigation room and grabbed the wheel to prevent it from turning of its own accord. Purdue was hot on his heels and ready to read the displays, while Nina took up a position between navigation and the sonar, ready to relay information between the two.

The first torpedo did not fire. The mechanism was simply too old and rusty to discharge.

The second torpedo made it out of the submarine, but the motor propelling it was barely functioning. The expedition party listened for the sound of impact, of detonation, but nothing came. They could only assume that it had lost its momentum and sunk.

Before Blomstein could activate the third, the U-boat was rocked by a depth charge. Even Alexandr gave a cry of alarm. It was close, and the boat groaned and strained under the impact.

"They're almost on top of us! Ten thousand meters and closing!" Fatima screamed. "Now, Ziv!"

Blomstein grabbed the lever that controlled the last torpedo release with both hands and wrenched it to one side. The machinery screeched and complained, but the motor snarled into life. The tank flooded, the charge fired and the torpedo shot out into the water.

For an agonizing ten seconds, they counted. No one dared breathe. Sam stole a glance at the rudder wheel, hoping that he had not accidentally nudged them a degree of course. This has to work, he thought. It has to.

Then the air was thick with the heavy sound of an underwater explosion and the scream of a metal hull being ripped apart, and amid the sounds of wreckage was Ziv Blomstein's primal shriek of triumph.

"Captain Belvedere, damage report!"

Admiral Whitsun strode along the deck toward the prow of the ship. In truth, the damage report was superfluous. He could see the thick black smoke billowing from the lower decks, and he could tell by the slight list of the ship that the damage was not negligible. However, he also knew that the destroyer could sustain a lot more injury than that and continue to sail. His temper had taken more of a battering. He was furious that they had not yet scored a direct hit on the U-boat.

"Admiral Whitsun, they're surfacing!"

"What?" Whitsun spluttered. "Why the devil would they—"

He leaned over the railing and squinted in the direction of the submarine. Sure enough, it was breaking through the waves. Snatching a pair of binoculars from Captain Belvedere, he watched as the trapdoor opened and Nina emerged onto the platform, a piece of white cloth clutched in her hands. She held it above her head, letting the wind blow it out like a flag, and waved it slowly back and forth.

"They're surrendering, sir!" Belvedere said. "Shall I send a craft to pick them up?"

Admiral Whitsun handed back the binoculars. "No," he said. "We shall get as close as we can, then we shall destroy them. See to it, captain."