Arctic Wargame (Justin Hall # 1) Read Free Page A

always dreamed of doing. Bookkeeping. ”
    He rubbed his dimpled chin then ran his fingers through his hair. Justin had a Mediterranean complexion—dark olive skin, raven wavy hair, big black eyes, and a large thick nose—inherited from his Italian mother.
    “Have a blueberry muffin. It will cheer you up. Freshly baked.”
    “Thanks.”
    Justin chewed on a small piece. “Hmmm, these are really good,” he said when finished. “But not as good as the ones you used to make for us.”
    Carrie said nothing for a couple of seconds then shook her head. Her auburn shoulder-length hair, which she usually kept in a semi-ponytail, flowed down her slender neck. “Yes, I used to make,” she said quietly after a deep sigh, “but not anymore. Have you heard from the army?” she asked, eager to change the conversation.
    “Yes, I did.” Justin’s voice rang with a tinge of despair. “They rejected my application. They consider me, how did they put it, oh, a ‘liability,’ regardless of my flawless service until the Libyan episode.”
    “I know what you mean. It took me a long time and a great amount of luck to get in. Mil intel selection is even harder than regular army entrance.”
    Before joining the Canadian Intelligence Service, Carrie had served two tours of duty in Afghanistan with Joint Task Force Two, the elite counter-terrorism unit of Special Operations Forces. Justin had always been in the CIS, operating mainly in Northern Africa. After returning from Libya, both Justin and Carrie were suspended from field missions until the completion of an internal inquiry on the deadly prison escape. The inquiry was still pending. In the meantime, they were assigned routine desk duties.
    “You know,” Justin said, “I got a paper cut yesterday, and I was glad it happened. It’s good to know I still have some blood left in me and this office hasn’t sucked it all out.”
    Carrie smiled. “I think I’m going blind reading figures and names and more names and figures every single freaking day. Some first-year analyst should do this, not intelligence officers like us.”
    Justin sighed. Then a smile spread across his face. “Perhaps we’ll get our wish. Did you see Johnson’s last e-mail?”
    “The one from last night?”
    “No. She sent another one this morning.”
    “I haven’t been to my office yet.” She took a sip from her coffee.
    “CSE has recorded another sighting of icebreakers, this time off the coast of Cape Combermere, southeast of Ellesmere Island.”
    “Could they determine who they belong to?”
    Justin shook his head. “No, they couldn’t.”
    “So what does Johnson want us to do?”
    “She didn’t give any specifics, but she called a briefing for this morning.”
    “I see. What did you tell her?”
    “I suggested a recon op and pretty much volunteered for it.”
    Carrie put her coffee cup on his desk. “What? This is the Arctic, in the middle of winter.”
    “Well, office boredom is killing me. I’ve got to get out there in the field.” Justin pointed to his office door.
    “More like the ice field.”
    “It’s not like I have a lot of options. The Libyans didn’t take lightly the destruction of their mosque and half of their world heritage town by an ‘infidel.’ Abdul and I were running for our lives, after being tortured by their operatives working with the Algerian terrorists.” Justin’s voice rose. “After coming back, it was either this crappy job or administrative leave. Now an opportunity shows up and since no one is going to hand it over to me, I’m going to seize it.”
    “You don’t have to explain it to me; we’re in the same boat. I didn’t destroy much of the town, like you did, but I heard I made room for twenty new recruits at Algerian terrorist camps. Still, you want to go to the Arctic?”
    “If Johnson decides to dispatch a team up there, which I’m sure she will, I’d like to go. After all, how else can we confirm the icebreakers’