Below Zero

32 JANUARY ISLAND, SOUTH CHINA SEA ^NOW

The lights were dimmed in The Broker’s ‘War Room’ and the temperature was exactly how he liked it. Beside him, on the table, was a mug of green tea. The design on the mug said ‘World’s Best Dad’. He picked it up without taking his eyes off the ultra-high-definition screens on the wall in front of him.

The display on the left showed a regularly updated satellite image of Outpost Zero. On the right, the last ten images were stacked together so he could see the growth of what was beneath the ice. Whatever it was, it had begun to increase in size at an incredible rate.

The centre screens showed images fed directly from Lazarovich’s team. Each operative had a camera set into their battle helmet so The Broker could watch them every step of the way. He never spoke to them, never communicated with them, but he was always watching. He saw what they saw.

Their eyes were his eyes.

The Broker sat back and cleared his throat. He raised his mug, but before it touched his lips he stopped and glanced at his hand. There was a slight tremble there, the tea rocking from side to side. He smiled, and allowed himself a moment to enjoy the buzz of nervous anticipation. After all, life and death was about to unfold on the screens in front of him. What could be more exciting than that?