Chapter 46
The ride back to the Lyra was done in both radio and personal silence.
Kurt kept his eyes on the snow ahead, tracking back toward the harbor on the same grooves he and Joe had come out on.
Not much had changed, but everything had changed.
The biggest question was also the most inscrutable one: If he didn’t want to sell the laser, what on earth could Ahab possibly want with it?
Without more information there was simply no way to know.
But Ahab would have an endgame in mind beyond getting revenge on Kurt and Gushan.
Otherwise, he could have simply left the laser in place and blown the plane to confetti as soon as Kurt or Gushan stepped on board.
Kurt let the question be and allowed his mind to go quiet. It had been working overtime for a week, along with his body. Both needed to rest before he made another major decision.
Nearing the outer edges of Troms?, he eased up on the throttle and straightened in the saddle.
The outer layer of his clothing creaked and cracked; it had frozen solid from the slush.
His hair was a shell of ice, whiter than its normal silver-gray.
Remarkably, his core remained toasty warm, thanks to the heated seat and handlebars.
They dumped the Russian snowmobile at the edge of town and rode together on the surviving NUMA machine.
There was a bit of fire in the sky. It almost passed for the coming of dawn, but was actually the glow of the northern lights.
The Vikings believed the auroras to be the shimmer of light reflecting off the armor of the Valkyries, the divine female warriors that carried fallen heroes to the afterlife in Valhalla.
Perhaps they’d been expecting Kurt to join them.
If so, they’d have to wait, he still had things to do.
Easing their way around the outskirts of town, they rounded the clusters of small buildings, bringing the harbor into view once again. Both the Chinese icebreaker and the Russian spy trawler were gone.
Reaching the Lyra, he could see the repairs coming along. The ship would need a few more days before it could safely risk oceanic travel, but it was nearly seaworthy.
Parking beside the gangway, Kurt and Joe eased off the sled, stiff from the ride and the cold. An enlisted member of the crew came down to greet them. Kurt handed him the keys. “You can park it around back. We’re not going to need it again today.”
The baffled crewman took the keys and nodded, then got on his radio to get the cargo hatch opened so he could pull it inside.
Climbing the gangway, Kurt shook the last of the ice from his clothing.
The captain met them as they stepped aboard. He searched their eyes. “Well…?”
Kurt shook his head.
“Damn,” the captain said. “So, who ended up with it? The Chinese or the Russians?”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“Way more complicated,” Joe added.
Kurt motioned toward the empty berths across the harbor. “When did the Chinese leave?”
“About ten minutes after our helicopter got back,” the captain said. “I guess they realized they’d lost.”
The ruse had worked, not that it had made any difference in the long run. “And the Russians?”
“About an hour ago. They hightailed it out of here.”
That sounded about right.
Kurt pulled off his coat and tossed it into a garbage bin. It was singed in places and smelled of jet fuel. “I need a cup of coffee, and a secure line to Washington.”
“Why don’t you two get some rest first?”
“We’ll sleep on the plane,” Kurt said.
“Plane?”
“Once I tell them what happened, they’re going to want to see us in person.”