Below Zero

31 APPROACHING OUTPOST ZERO, ANTARCTICA ^NOW

‘We’re about thirty minutes out,’ the pilot said. Lazarovich leant forward to see along the interior of the Osprey and into the cockpit.

‘Storm’s passed, weather’s looking good,’ Captain Jackson continued. ‘Maybe we’ll reach Zero a little ahead of time. Approaching from the south.’

‘Copy that.’ Lazarovich settled back into her seat and cast her eyes over the other operatives sitting either side of the Osprey interior.

Every one of them was faceless behind the visor of his or her battle helmet, but her own visor sensed who she was looking at, and their name appeared, as if by magic, floating in her vision. She didn’t need it though, didn’t need the technology to tell her who they were – Lazarovich knew them as well as she knew herself. She knew their strengths, their weaknesses, their build, their mannerisms. She had worked with them, lived with them, trained them. If they had all been wearing overalls, standing in a darkened room with sacks on their heads, Lazarovich could have picked out each one of them by name.

What she didn’t know was what to expect when she landed at Outpost Zero. As usual, Phoenix had given her as little information as possible. Secure the base, secure whatever those people had found under the ice, eliminate everyone, and await further instruction.

Most of it sounded straightforward – if there was one thing Lazarovich and her team knew how to do, it was to secure an enemy placement and leave no survivors – but one part of it was bothering her. The ‘secure whatever those people had found under the ice’ part. Something about it felt… off.

An alert symbol appeared in the top right of her visor display. The word ‘PHOENIX’ was written beside it.

‘Open message,’ Lazarovich said, and an image popped up in place of the alert. It appeared to be hovering in the air on the other side of the cabin.

Lazarovich studied the updated thermal satellite image. It was immediately obvious that the heat signature below the ice had grown. The river of red now stretched from The Chasm in the east, all the way across to the centre of the natural basin in the land, where it ballooned. Outpost Zero was right in the centre of it, as if it were hanging over a giant sea of lava. Whatever was down there was big. Huge. Securing something that size could be problematic, especially when they didn’t even know what it was.

The airstrip was showing as pale blue on the edge of the red sea. It was cold and hard, ready for a good landing, but the Storage building was glowing dull orange – they would need to check it out. Lazarovich was thinking it might be where the base personnel were hanging out.

‘Close image.’ The image disappeared. ‘Open comms.’ Lazarovich waited for the click to indicate she was speaking to the whole team. ‘OK, listen up everyone. We’re thirty minutes out. Time to wake up, stop thinking about your comfy beds back home and your families waiting for you. I need full concentration.’ She paused. ‘I want a clean dispersal when we touch down. We’ll secure the landing zone. Team Two, you take The Hub, split two ways and sweep in both directions. You know the layout, I want the East and West Tunnels cleared. Eliminate everything. Team One with me on the ice – we’ll maintain the landing zone and sweep the outlying Storage building, then we’ll see what we’ve come all this way for. I want this clean, clear and careful. No casualties on our side. All eyes open and alert; I’ve got a bad feeling about this.’

‘Leader, you always say that.’

‘I know.’ Lazarovich focused on the operative sitting opposite her. ‘But this time I mean it.’