Chapter 8 #2
“What?” She batted her eyelashes innocently. “I’m just saying, for someone who claims to be here purely for professional reasons, you were staring at my ass pretty intently when I climbed into the plane.”
She couldn’t see anything more than his eyes, but she imagined he was blushing under all those layers. He was adorable when he blushed. “I was not?—”
“Yes, you were,” she said, grinning at the way his whole body tensed up. “And don’t think I didn’t notice you checking out my legs when I bent over to adjust my boot straps.”
Elliot made a sound that might have been a growl of frustration—it was hard to tell with the howl of the wind—and it made her stomach flutter in the most delicious way.
They reached the first snowcat, and Rue pulled open the heavy door, grateful for the momentary respite from the wind. The interior smelled like diesel fuel and old coffee, but it was blissfully warm compared to the brutal air outside.
“Everybody pile in,” she called, waving the group over. “Dr. Keene, Tyler, Mia—you’re with me. Everyone else, take the second cat.”
Elliot’s gloved hand shot out, grabbing Rue’s arm before she could climb into the driver’s seat. His fingers pressed firmly through the layers of her parka.
“No,” he said, his voice low but intense. “We’re not splitting up.”
Rue turned, finding his blue eyes locked on hers with an intensity that made her breath catch. Beneath the frost clinging to his eyelashes, she could see genuine concern—no, more than that. Fear.
“It’s just a short drive to the station.” She checked to make sure nobody was paying them any attention, then leaned in. “I need someone I trust in there, and you’re the only one on that list at the moment.”
He didn’t move.
“Elliot. We’re going to freeze if we don’t move.”
He finally released his grip on her arm. “Be careful.”
“Always am.”
“No, you’re not, and that’s what scares me.”
To her surprise, he pulled down his face mask and leaned in to press a kiss to her forehead. Warmth spread through her, chasing away the bone-eating cold…
But then she remembered their ruse.
Fiancé. He was supposed ot be her fiancé.
The quick kiss was just a show for the others.
It didn’t mean anything.
Heart sinking, she climbed into the driver’s seat of the cat. The engine turned over with a satisfying rumble, and she felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease. This was her element—machines and wilderness and the thrill of navigating terrain that could kill you if you made a mistake.
Tyler squeezed into the passenger seat beside her, his eyes wide with excitement as he took in the instrument panel. “This is so cool! I’ve never been in anything like this.”
“Just wait until you see what this baby can do,” Rue said, patting the dashboard affectionately. “These cats can handle pretty much anything Antarctica throws at us.”
Through the windshield, she watched Elliot climb into the second snowcat with the others. He looked like he was heading to his execution rather than an adventure.
She’d have to work on that.
The radio crackled to life. “Cat Two to Cat One, we’re ready when you are.”
Rue recognized Noah Braddock’s voice and felt her good mood dim slightly.
There was something about that man that set her teeth on edge, though she couldn’t put her finger on exactly what.
Maybe it was the way he moved like a killer.
Or maybe it was how his eyes tracked everything, cataloging potential threats and escape routes.
She’d worked with enough security personnel to recognize the type. The question was whether he was a legitimate glaciologist or something else entirely.
“Copy that, Cat Two. Follow my lead and stay close. The terrain gets tricky about halfway there.”
She put the snowcat in gear and eased forward, feeling the oversized treads bite into the ice. Behind her, Dr. Keene was practically bouncing in his seat, pointing out various features of the landscape to his grad students.
“The ice formations here are absolutely remarkable,” he was saying, his breath fogging the window as he pressed his face against it. “Look at those pressure ridges! The geological forces at work are simply extraordinary.”
Rue smiled despite her lingering unease about Braddock. This was why she loved her job—the pure, infectious enthusiasm of people experiencing something genuinely awe-inspiring for the first time. Dr. Keene might be scattered and absent-minded, but his passion for his work was real.
Unlike some of their other companions.
She guided the snowcat across the ice field, following a route she’d memorized from the satellite photos. The station grew larger in the distance, its utilitarian buildings looking more welcoming with each passing minute. Behind them, the second snowcat maintained a steady pace.
“So what exactly are you studying out here, Dr. Keene?” she asked, raising her voice above the engine noise.
“Microalgae trapped in the ice sheets,” he replied eagerly. “These organisms have been frozen for thousands of years, possibly longer. They represent a unique opportunity to study extremophile adaptation and possibly even?—”
He cut himself off abruptly, and Rue glanced in the rearview mirror. His expression had shifted from excitement to something more guarded.
“Possibly what?” she prompted.
“Oh, just... general biological processes,” he said vaguely, suddenly very interested in the landscape outside his window.
Rue’s internal radar pinged. That was the second time today someone had been evasive about the research objectives. When she’d questioned Dr. Braddock about his research during the flight, he’d shut her down with an abrupt, “Nothing you’d understand.”
She made a mental note to discuss it with Elliot later, when they had some privacy.
The snowcat hit a patch of rough ice, and everyone grabbed for handholds as they bounced violently. Tyler let out a whoop of excitement, while Mia looked slightly green around the gills.
“Sorry about that,” Rue called back. “The ice shifts constantly out here. Creates some interesting terrain features.”
“Interesting is one word for it,” Mia muttered, clutching her stomach.
They crested a low ridge, and suddenly the station was spread out below them in all its modest glory.
Thwaites Research Station consisted of seven main buildings connected by covered walkways, with several smaller outbuildings scattered around the perimeter.
Solar panels glinted on every roof, and the communication towers rose like metal trees against the white landscape.
It looked exactly like what it was—a small outpost of human civilization clinging to existence in one of the most hostile environments on Earth.
And for the next three weeks, it would be home.
“There she is,” Rue announced, feeling a familiar surge of satisfaction at successfully delivering her charges to their destination. “Welcome to Thwaites Station.”
The radio crackled again. “Cat One, this is Station Control,” said a man with a South African accent. “We have you on approach. Bay doors are opening.”
Rue frowned. She hadn’t expected anyone to be at the station. According to the mission briefing, they were supposed to be the only research team in residence.
“Station Control, this is Expedition Leader Bristow. Who is this?”
A pause. Then: “We’re what’s left of the summer crew. Just three of us now. Don’t worry, we’ll make space.”
Something cold that had nothing to do with the Antarctic wind settled in Rue’s stomach. No summer team had been mentioned in any of the briefings. This was exactly the kind of surprise she hated—the kind that could get people killed.
She grabbed the radio again. “I wasn’t informed of any?—”
“Just follow the guide lights to the garage bay,” the voice interrupted smoothly. “We’ll have you sorted in no time.”
Through the windshield, Rue could see a figure in arctic gear standing near the main building, waving them toward a large bay door that was sliding open. The person was too bundled up to make out any details, but their posture was relaxed, welcoming.
Everything looked normal. Safe.
So why did every instinct she possessed suddenly scream danger?