Arctic Wargame

Chapter Five

“Neither Nuqatlak, nor Levinia, his longtime girlfriend, used their cellphones during the night or this morning.” Justin handed Kiawak a printout, while whispering on his microphone. Aboard the Eurocopter NH90, the communication set earphones cancelled the constant rattle of the helicopter’s engine. “So, even though we bugged their phones, there’s no new intel.”

Kiawak, sitting behind Justin on the second row of seats, glanced at the chart, full of rows of phone numbers, the time of the calls and their length, all from days ago. He shrugged, and passed it to Alisha, who sat across from him and next to Anna.

“We’ll be on the ground in five,” Carrie said and dropped the helicopter about ten feet.

None of the passengers were surprised by the stomach-twirling fall. The ride from Pond Inlet had been bumpier than if they drove a pickup truck without shock absorbers. But the helicopter had allowed the team to cross the two hundred and seventy miles separating the two towns in a little more than ninety minutes.

“Let’s hope he’s still there,” she added.

“Well, the office confirmed Grise Fiord has been Nuqatlak’s official address for the last three years,” Justin replied.

“You’ve got a problem right there,” Carrie said. “Official. Like his official job, which is a trucker.”

“Well, his files at the CIS and the RCMP were pretty thin, so that’s all we’ve got,” Justin said. “If he’s not there, we’ll comb the town for clues.”

Alisha analyzed the phone records Kiawak had passed her. “Who’s Job?” she asked.

“Levinia’s brother, I assume,” Anna replied. She titled her head but could barely read the printout. Alisha was holding it close to her face. “They’ve got the same last name. He’ll be our next stop, if a search of Nuqatlak’s home turns up nothing.”

Carrie tapped the helicopter’s controls and the aircraft veered to the left. They had just crossed Jones Sound separating Ellesmere Island from Devon Island during the short summers but joining them with a thick ice cap the rest of the year. The ice floes, which had just started to melt, resembled large pieces of shattered glass. At the shore, the small houses of Grise Fiord came into view. Carrie gained some altitude, in order to climb over a series of cliffs over the town about five-hundred feet high.

“This should muffle the chopper’s noise and give us the advantage of surprise,” Carrie explained. “By the time they notice us dropping over the town, hopefully it will be too late.”

She stared at the frozen plains and chose a suitable place for landing: a solid ice field, clear of ice boulders and with no visible, large cracks. She brought the helicopter down without any problems.

Justin and Kiawak jumped out of the helicopter only moments later.

“Here we go again in the cold,” Anna whined in protest as she zipped her jacket and put on her gloves.

Anna had just set foot on the ground when a black snowmobile jumped over a tall snowbank and landed with a loud thud on one of the narrow trails leading outside the town. The vehicle coughed out a cloud of gray smoke and sprayed a storm of ice shreds from its rear. The driver headed south, toward Jones Sound. A second rider hung tight onto the driver as the sled bounced over the ice bumps of the trail.

“Who’s that?” Anna asked.

“That’s our target,” Carrie replied.

Justin and Kiawak were running toward the town, in the opposite direction of the fleeing snowmobile. Knowing they would never be able to catch up to Nuqatlak and his accomplice on foot, Kiawak knocked on the door of the closest house. Justin stood by a Mazda truck parked on the driveway.

“What do we do?” Alisha asked.

“Can’t follow them in the chopper,” Carrie replied. “If they’re armed and fire at us, a damaged chopper means the end of our mission.”

“So, we’re just going to stay here?” Alisha asked with an accusatory frown.

“No. Follow me.” Carrie pushed the helicopter’s door shut and gestured toward another house. “We’ll go after them.”

“Who tipped him off?” Anna asked, trying to keep up with Carrie, who began running. Alisha had already fallen behind, struggling with the slippery ice sheet covering the trail.

“Maybe one of Kiawak’s buddies. But then, people caught up in these kinds of deals keep an ear to the ground at all times and live in constant fear. I mean, look, this guy bolted out of his home as soon as he heard the chopper.”

Before Carrie could knock on someone’s door, Kiawak tossed the Mazda truck keys at Justin. In an instant, they began their chase after the snowmobile. Carrie knocked again and the door opened.

“We need your snowmobile,” she demanded from the sleepy-eyed man at the door. “I’m with the Rangers.”

“Left! Turn left!” Anna screamed into Carrie’s ear as she clung to her waist.

Carrie turned the handlebar to avoid crashing the nose of the snowmobile into an ice hill. They were airborne for a couple of seconds.

“I saw the damn thing too,” Carrie yelled back. The snowmobile responded to gravity’s call and landed on the packed snow.

“Sorry.” Anna took a deep breath, loosening her grasp around Carrie, even though they were going faster. “It just seemed too close.”

Justin and Kiawak had given up their chase. Nuqatlak was riding over the coastline. The ice was too thin to withstand the weight of a truck. It was dangerous even for the snowmobile, but Nuqatlak was apparently determined to avoid capture at all costs.

“Where are they going?” Carrie asked. “It looks like they’re headed for the water.”

Nuqatlak and the woman — Carrie was sure the passenger was female, since at one point they were so close her silhouette was very clear — were doing more than fifty miles per hour, extremely dangerous for the fragile terrain. Carrie and Anna were falling behind, but they were riding over a slope, at a higher level than the fugitives. They could see much farther away in the distance than Nuqatlak. The zigzagging trail of his snowmobile dodged crevasses, leads, and heaps of packed ice. Nuqatlak kept going toward Jones Sound where the melting ice floes filled the waters.

“Can’t they see the water?” Anna asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Let’s tell the morons. We can’t interrogate the dead.”

Carrie eased on the throttle.

“Why are we slowing down?” Anna asked. “We need to catch up to them.”

“I’m not sure we’re riding over the ice sheet on the ground or over floating ice.”

“What? But, in that case…”

“Yeah. We may go through the ice.”

The open water leads, formed wherever sections of ice floes pulled apart because of ice shifting, confirmed their fear. The fugitives and their pursuers were both riding over a thin layer of ice. Ice hills had become less frequent, another sign of the dangerous conditions in the area. At some point, Nuqatlak must have clued into the fact that the ice might become too thin very soon. He eased back on his throttle lever and made a sharp U-turn. The snowmobile lost traction for a couple of seconds, skidded over the ice sheet, and crashed into a low snowbank. The woman almost fell off her seat.

“They’re trapped,” Carrie shouted. “Maybe we can get to them now.”

Her hope was short-lived, as Nuqatlak’s snowmobile pulled away from the snowbank and barreled toward Carrie and Anna. Carrie avoided a head-on collision by sliding to the left at the last possible moment. As the fugitives passed them, she noticed a sawed-off shotgun hanging on the side of the snowmobile.

“They’re armed,” Carrie said.

“Let’s hope they don’t start shooting.”

Carrie had just turned around when Nuqatlak’s snowmobile jerked to the right. The woman raised her shotgun.

“Shit,” Anna shouted.

Carrie gripped the throttle lever. The snowmobile jumped forward, landing behind an ice hill. Lead pellets poured from the woman’s shotgun and struck the brittle shield. Sharp ice slivers showered Carrie and Anna.

“The bastards are shooting at us.” Anna squinted in horror as shreds of ice crackled against her helmet.

“Here.” Carrie reached inside her jacket for the Browning 9mm in her waistband holster. “You know how to use this?”

“Yes, I do.” Anna cocked the gun. “Grandpa used to take me to the range.”

Carrie took a quick peek. The attack had given the fugitives a big advantage. She resumed the chase. Soon, Carrie and Anna were gaining on their target. Nuqatlak attempted a climb over a small ridge. The woman with him looked behind and raised her shotgun. Before she could point it at them, Anna pulled her pistol’s trigger twice.

She missed both times.

“Shoot the bastards,” Carrie encouraged her.

The snowmobile was almost over the ridge when Anna made her grandfather proud. She drove her third bullet into the woman’s right shoulder. The woman was able to hold on to Nuqatlak, at least for a short time, and then she tipped to the left. The snowmobile dragged her until she brushed against an ice boulder and fell off.

Nuqatlak now flew over the ice floes even faster than before. He dodged a small crevasse by shifting the weight of his body to the right to avoid slamming into a heap of ice chunks. The left ski of the snowmobile lifted off the ground and shredded the sheet of powder covering the ice. Nuqatlak leaned to the other side and avoided tipping over. He looked over his shoulder. Perhaps because he noticed his pursuers were closing in, he pulled a small pistol from one of his jacket pockets. He continued riding in a crisscross pattern, struggling to control his snowmobile with his left hand, while trying to point the pistol with his right hand at Carrie and Anna, who were now less than one hundred feet behind.

Anna leveled her pistol at Nuqatlak’s shoulders. She moved the sight of the gun a fraction of an inch, aiming for his right arm, before firing two successive shots. The first one missed. The second found its target. Nuqatlak leaned forward, very slightly, as if hitting an unexpected bump on the trail. Suddenly, he took a plunge along with his snowmobile. He rolled over the ice, his head slamming hard on a couple of boulders, as he went through a couple of three hundred and sixty-degree spins. Finally, he lay flat on his back a short distance away. Red traces of blood marked his path.

“That was great, Anna.” Carrie stopped their snowmobile beside Nuqatlak.

His chest was barely rising, and his neck was twisted unnaturally to the left.

“Is he… is he still alive?” Anna whispered in a shaky voice.

Nuqatlak answered her question with a slight involuntary hand twitch.

Carrie dashed toward him. She slowly lifted up his head. Blood trailed down from his lips, his nose, and the left side of his head. His helmet was nowhere in sight.

“Don’t worry.” Carrie steadied his head in her hands. Nuqatlak coughed blood, and his entire body shook.

Anna checked his pulse. She shook her head at Carrie and mouthed, “Weak.” She looked back down at the man. “You’re going to be OK,” she said with a whimper.

“No, I’m going to die.” His lips hardly parted as his voice rasped. He struggled for strength to breathe and speak at the same time.

“We’ll take you to a hospital. We have a chopper,” Carrie whispered. For a second, she wondered if the end would have been different had she decided to use the helicopter for the manhunt.

“Too late,” Nuqatlak groaned. “I won’t make it.”

Anna fought back her tears. Carrie knew a mountain of guilt must have been crushing her soul.

“Why… why did you run away?” Carrie asked, realizing they were running out of time.

Nuqatlak coughed blood again. “The guns. I know you came for the guns.”

Carrie hesitated, pondering the next question. Nuqatlak’s pulse was growing weaker by the second. “The guns… where did they come from?”

Nuqatlak’s head fell forward, but he muttered no words.

“Where did you get them?” Carrie asked.

Nuqatlak’s eyes moved toward the right. “North… northeast,” he mumbled.

“What?” Carrie and Anna asked at the same time.

“Did you say north?” Anna asked.

“And northeast?” Carrie said. “That’s Greenland. Did you get them from Greenland?”

Nuqatlak shook his head and closed his eyes. Even these simple gestures took a lot of effort.

“No…” his voice was weak and trailing.

“Then, where? Tell me where?” Carrie said.

Silence. His eyes remained closed.

“Nuqatlak, where did you get those guns?” Carrie placed her lips over his ear.

“Danish… Danish depot.” He breathed the words between gasps, slightly opening his left eye.

“Where? Where’s the depot?”

“Pig, pig…” Nuqatlak’s breathing stopped.

“What? What was that? ‘Pig’ what?”

No answer.

“Where did you find the weapons? Where?” Carrie repeated.

His blank left eye kept staring at the gray sky.

“Nuqatlak, don’t… don’t you die,” Anna muttered through her tears.