Ice War Read Free Page B

said.
    “Checking your ropes, my dudes, and maintain each two-metre separations,” Monster said.
    Price hid a smile. For more than two years now she had worked with Monster. His Bzadian was flawless, but he still couldn’t speak English worth a damn.

    Price had warned them the wind would get worse when they got higher, but even she wasn’t prepared for the furious gust that hit them as they emerged from the shelter of the lead. They crouched, heads into the wind, and dug their axes deeply into the ice.
    “Boo-yah, my first real mission,” Emile squawked on the com.
    “No, it’s not,” Price said. “We’re not officially here. The Angels have been stood down, remember? This mission doesn’t exist.”
    “At least we get real bullets,” The Tsar said. “Not like Magnum when we only had puffer rounds.”
    “Puffers would do no good here,” Barnard said.
    She was right. The compacted powder of a puffer round exploded into a cloud when it hit body armour. The target breathed it in and was unconscious within seconds. But puffers were useless against an enemy wearing full-face masks – a necessity in this frigid air.
    “Move ’em out, Angels,” Price called after the worst of the squall subsided.
    The Tsar was on point. He stood and began to move, leaning almost horizontally into the wind. Price kept an eye on Wall and Emile. They were unknown quantities. They had the best scores of all the trainee Angels, but that meant nothing when you got into the field.
    Wall, in particular, had only one year of training, but his skill with a rifle rivalled that of the legendary Blake Wilton. Even so, Wall was only on the mission because two more experienced Angels had been injured in training and one had mysteriously disappeared from Fort Carson.
    Price’s leg itched again, left side, just below the knee.
    Some of the ridges and hummocks they climbed, some they avoided. The flat areas at the centre of floes were the easiest, but they were also where the wind was strongest.
    Already, Price was starting to wonder if the two missing Seal teams had simply fallen through gaps in the ice. That would explain the screams and the sudden loss of radio contact. But it wouldn’t explain Legrand, the station commander who had died in mysterious circumstances.
    “We could walk past a Puke patrol in this weather and never even see them,” The Tsar said.
    “We’re not likely to run into any Pukes here,” Barnard said. “We are south of the islands. The direct route between Russia and Alaska is to the north. This route would be much longer and the ice here is too rough for tanks.”
    “Why is that?” The Tsar asked.
    “There’s more movement in the icefloes,” Barnard said. “Because it’s warmer here than up north.”
    “Yeah, bro, this is real toasty,” Wall said.
    “Anything else to complain about, Wall?” Barnard asked. “Don’t hold back; let’s get it all out there.”
    “Well, now that you mention it,” Wall said, “I can’t understand why they’re making us walk. Haven’t they heard of snowmobiles?”
    “Or how about a chauffeur-driven limousine?” Barnard said. “Take you right up to the front door and lay out the red carpet for you.”
    “I was just saying,” Wall said. “This is the thirties, not the sixteenth century.”
    “Snowmobiles make noise and heat,” The Tsar said. “You want to advertise that we are coming?”
    “Why not?” Wall asked. “The LT said there are no Pukes for fifty klicks.”
    “Wall,” Monster said.
    “Yeah?”
    “Keep mouth shut.”
    “Amen to that,” The Tsar said.
    They passed an upside down V made from two giant slabs of ice, both oddly straight and rectangular-shaped. Not long after that a narrow track dropped into a deep gully – a huge scar between two floes that had iced over and was gradually healing. Here the walls protected them from the wind and the flying snow. That continued for over a hundred metres before they emerged onto a flat sheet of ice