Antarctic Base 5
By electrolysis
Copyright 2011 electrolysis
Smashwords Edition
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
Thank you for downloading this free ebook. Although this is a free book, it remains the copyrighted property of the author, and may not be reproduced, copied and distributed for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy at Smashwords.com, where they can also discover other works by this author. Thank you for your support.
Author’s Note:
Here is the story. This is still a rough draft and is in the midst of the editing and revising process. I decided to upload the final story for all of those left on a cliff hanger. I hope you enjoy the ride
-electrolysis
Table of Contents
Storm Brewing
1
Antarctic Base 5 sat on an ice shelf. Many days it was clear. However, this day was not one of those days. A monstrous arctic storm was raging across the once desolate polar landscape.
Hail repeated smashed into the sides of Antarctic Base 5; however it did little to dent the ultra strong exterior. The base was government made, using the most advanced materials available. It could withstand a category nine hurricane and still survive unscathed.
A storm was brewing in Antarctic Base 5, and not only one of ice and snow. The four scientists currently living in Antarctic Base 5 were about to experience the largest and most potent storm of their lives.
2
The glorious smell of cooking oil filled the air of Antarctic Base 5. The slapping sound of pancakes hitting a pan as they flipped through the air echoed in the chilled base. The maker of the pancakes was Ray Monty, a glaciologist. As his friends liked to joke, he made a living studying ice cubes.
While not many people knew it, Ray Monty had begun his life wanting to be a chef, however he took a science course because it was required to graduate, and he fell head over heels. He started studying ice all the time, becoming ever fascinated by it and its amazing properties. However, he still had learned a thing or two in culinary school, and could rustle up some mean grub when he needed to.
Monty still enjoyed cooking, however living in Antarctic Base 5, he did not have the free time as often as he would like. Regardless of that, every Sunday morning, he would cook pancakes for his fellow scientists.
Monty eyed the container that had until recently been full to the brim with pancake batter. It was now empty with just a few drops of mix on the edges and bottom of the container.
Grinning mischievously, he silently picked up two frying pans and walked toward the open doorway of Barracks M. Three blanket covered lumps lay sleeping, their bodies gently moving up and down as they slept.
Monty moved next to the largest lump and quickly smashed the two frying pans together, making a huge clanging noise.
Behind Monty one of the lumps stirred. A face popped out from underneath heavy covers. It was thin with light hazel eyes and brown hair, still matted from sleep.
“Monty?” The man said bemusedly, “What’s goin’ on?”
“Morning, Sherlock,” Monty said, grinning, “Sleep well?”
“Yeah… like a rock,” Sherlock Reagan said, rubbing his eyes.
Then he stopped and sniffed.
“Is that the smell of your famous pancakes?”
“The one and only,” Monty said.
“Sweet,” Sherlock said, climbing out of his bed revealing maroon full-body long-johns.
He grabbed some clothes from a trunk under his bed and walked off to the shower room.
Monty returned his attention to the largest lump.
“Wakey, wakey, Howe,” he said, smashing the pans together with boyish enthusiasm.
“Shut up, Monty,” Howe Dale moaned, pulling the covers even deeper over his head.
“Oh, come on, Howe,” Monty said in mock disapproval, “Get that fat behind of yours out of bed. “
“Make me,” Howe said, from underneath the covers.
“With pleasure,” Monty said with relish.
He grabbed the edges of Howe’s covers and yanked hard.
The cover flew off, revealing a fat man wearing only a pair of boxers.
“Monty you son of a—“
“That’s a nice look for you, Howe,” a feminine voice said, from behind the two of them.
Monty laughed and Howe turned a shade of purple.
May West, the only female in the group was standing in the doorway to Barracks M, wearing a pale pink parka. She had crystal clear blue eyes, looking out over a small nose. A strand of her auburn hair refused to be tamed and was hanging out of the hood.
Howe grabbed the blanket out of Monty’s grip and used it to cover his considerable stomach.
“This is the male barracks, Ms. West,” Howe spluttered, “Why don’t you go and let me get changed. Unless you want a piece of this.”
“No thanks, Howe, maybe some other time,” May said, giggling.
She turned and walked into the kitchen.
“I’m going back to sleep,” Howe said and turned over.
“Suit yourself, you tub of lard,” Monty said, and walked over to the final lump.
“I’m surprised you did not wake up in this racket, Bill,” Monty said to the lump.
“Bill?”
He shook the sheets and they collapsed.
Monty pulled the sheets off to reveal that nothing was there.
“Hey, Howe, have you seen Bill recently?” Monty asked.
“Don’t bother asking Howe, Monty,” Sherlock said, returning his sleeping attire to his bunk after his shower, “He hasn’t seen anything but the inside of his eyelids since last night.”
Howe stuck one flabby hand out of his bed to show Sherlock a rude hand gesture.
“Well. How rude,” Sherlock said and went into the kitchen, “Sorry Howe, there aren’t enough pancakes for you. May’s eaten them all.”
“Hey, not true,” May said indignantly from the kitchen.
Monty was still standing confused next to the empty bed.
“Where do you suppose he is?” Monty said.
He threw down the blanket and took a seat in the kitchen.
“Probably downstairs,” Sherlock said, inhaling a pancake.
Finishing, Sherlock grabbed another pancake and the bottle of Aunt Jemima’s, and squeezed a generous amount of maple syrup.
“Hmmmm,” Monty still felt weird about it. It wasn’t like Bill to miss breakfast, although he was a hard worker.
“Well, I guess Bill always was a hard worker,” Monty said.
“Yeah, but it’s not like anyone knows he works on,” Sherlock said through a mouthful of pancake.
It was true. Bill worked for the government and was working on something top secret. He wasn’t even able to discuss it with them. He was pretty quiet anyway, so they didn’t have many opportunities to press him about it.
Sherlock finished another pancake.
Standing up he said, “I’ll go get him.”
He grabbed a pancake from the stack, “One for the road,” and opened the door leading to the lower levels.
Antarctic Base 5 had three levels. The first floor, on the surface contained the living quarters for all the scientists who made the base their home. Scientists usually only stayed at Antarctic Base 5 for about six months before returning home. The floor contained two dorm rooms, one for men, and one for women. Each room had a bathroom with a shower. There was a combination kitchen and dining room, and a few small storage closets for gear. The second floor contained all the laboratories and scientific facilities for the scientists. Almost anything they needed for their research could be found there. The bottom floor was more storage space.
Howe stumbled out of his room, fully clothed, at the same time as Sherlock shut the basement door behind him.
He was wearing a red t-shirt that was a little too small for him, and a pair of jeans.
“Ooh, baby,” Howe said, plopping down and grabbing a handful of pancakes.
He grabbed the maple syrup and was about to squeeze it onto his pancakes when a scream echoed up from the lower floor.
3
Lieutenant Colonel Smyth took a sip from the steaming cup of coffee sitting on his mahogany desk. He was skimming the contents of a manila folder labeled confidential.
There was a knock at the door.
“Come in,” Smyth said in his strangely deep voice.
The door opened and a squat, thinning man walked in.
“Ah, Reginald, good morning.”
“It’s not quite as good as that, sir,” Reginald said, extracting a newspaper clipping from his breast pocket.
Reginald held it out and Smyth took it, spreading it out on top of the manila folder.
He spat out his coffee.
4
The Watcher peered through his binoculars at the squat grey building that was Antarctic Base 5. He was lying on his stomach underneath a small, man sized canopy made of reinforced Plexiglas, and carefully secured to the ice. The Watcher was propped up on his elbows watching.
The Watcher could barely hear himself think over the deafening arctic winds. He pulled a phone out of his pocket and looked at the message on it.
He grinned to himself and pocketed the phone. The Watcher closed the cover, shielding himself from the wind and snow. He pulled out a laptop pressed a button to turn it on.
An image of three people sitting around a table materialized. They jumped and stood up. The Watcher couldn’t hear the audio over the roaring wind. He watched with a careful smile as they opened a door and proceeded down a flight of stairs.
Everything was going precisely according to plan.
5
Sherlock Reagan was frozen in horror, no pun intended. He had seen a lot of things in his life. He had grown up abroad. His mother was an author, and his father was a surgeon and they were both huge anglophiles. They loved British literature more than anything else. Hence the name Sherlock. His father had wanted him to become a doctor, like himself, so Sherlock had seen many gruesome operations since his childhood. One of his earliest memories was when his dad took him a medical theater to see some doctors saw off some poor guy’s head.
But this totally took the cake. Bill was lying in a pool of congealing blood. A bloody ice pick was lying next to him, pointing at the gaping hole in Bill’s jugular vein. Bill’s glasses where lying next to him.
Sherlock felt bile rise up in his throat, but he kept it down.
He heard footsteps from behind him.
“What’s up Sher—“ Monty began, then stopped dead.
There were rapid footsteps as May ran upstairs. The sound of her retching echoed down from upstairs.
“Well, damn,” Monty said, biting his lip, “How do you think it happened?”
“What do you mean?” Howe said, his voice rising in decibel and volume, “He was murdered!”
“Let’s not jump to conclusions, now,” Monty said, “It could have been an accident.”
“An accident?” Howe’s voice cracked, “Oh I see, he just accidently stabbed himself in the neck with an ice pick.”
“Calm down, Howe,” Sherlock said, breaking out of his stupor.
“Calm down, calm down?” Howe shrieked, “Bill is lying dead over there!”
He waved his hand at Bill’s corpse. Then his eyes widened as if he just had an epiphany. He held his hands back and started backing away from the Sherlock and Monty.
They looked at each other.
“What?” Monty asked confusedly.
Howe pointed a shaking finger at the two of them.
“One of us must have done it. There’s nobody else here. And I didn’t do it. It must have been you, or you, or her.”
“Howe, you’re being irrational,” Sherlock said, holding up his hands.
“Oh, I’m… I’m being irrational? I didn’t just kill someone with a pick axe!”
“Howe, calm down, let’s not point fingers,” Monty said.
Howe looked livid and terrified at the same time.
“I’m going, d-don’t follow me,” he stuttered, “Or-or else.”
He stomped upstairs.
Sherlock and Monty looked at each other.
“Do you really think one of us did it?” Sherlock asked.
“Of course, not,” Monty said, “Howe’s just being… Howe.”
Monty sighed and started up the stairs.
Sherlock stood back and looked at Bill again.
“Should we, like move him or something?”
Monty stopped and turned back.
“I think Howe was right about one thing. Bill was definitely killed. I wouldn’t tamper with possible evidence.”
Sherlock gulped audibly. Then he followed Monty up the stairs.
6
Smyth looked at Reginald.
“How can this be?” He asked, nervously licking his lips.
“I’m not sure,” Reginald said carefully.
Suddenly Smyth came to a realization.
“Reginald,” he said, sweat started to form on his face.
“What?” Reginald asked.
“This, this person, should be at Antarctic Base 5 right now.”
“But, how could they be dead, over here?”
Smyth stood up and started pacing his room.
“It appears there is an imposter in Antarctic Base 5,” Smyth said sadly.
Reginald’s eyes widened.
“Then we have to pull them out.”
“We can’t,” Smyth said.
“Why not?” Reginald asked.
“Antarctica is in the throes of one of the largest arctic storms in decades. There is no way for us to move in until the storm ends.”
“So we can’t go in,” Reginald said.
“No,” Smyth sighed, “They are trapped in there. We cannot interfere.”
7
May West pulled her head out of the kitchen garbage can. Her hood had fallen off and her hair was now lying unkempt.
Howe came up the steps and gave her a dirty look before going into the barracks.
Sherlock and Monty came up a few seconds later.
“He’s dead, isn’t he?” May asked sadly.
Monty nodded gravely.
Tears trickled down May’s face.
Sherlock moved in and hugged, pressing her tearstained face into his chest.
“Hey now, it’s all right, you’re okay,” he said comfortingly.
Howe emerged from the barracks, his hands behind his back.
“I’m going downstairs,” he said, “Nobody follow me, or else.”
He pulled a harpoon gun out from behind his back.
He kept it carefully leveled at them as he slowly backed down the stairs.
May looked confused at Sherlock and Monty.
“What’s his deal?” She asked, wiping her tears on the sleeve of her pocket.
“Howe is under the impression that one of us killed Bill, and plans to kill him, too,” Monty said, rolling his eyes.
“I thought this kind of stuff only happened in horror movies. I can’t believe this kind of paranoia could set in so early,” May said, looking like she was about to cry again.
“Howe’s just being dumb,” Sherlock said, “I don’t think any of us are capable of murdering Bill in cold blood.”
“If we didn’t do it,” May asked, “Then who did?”
8
The Watcher was pleased. As usual, everything was going precisely as planned. All the pawns were in place, and the plan was proceeding as planned.
The Watcher grinned as he watched the events unfolding on his laptop.
What fun this is, he thought as he watched, it’s almost like watching a movie except, I know it’s real.”
9
Howe Dale held his harpoon gun aloft as he slowly walked farther and farther into the basement. The place was a maze of boxes and shelves. Broken scientific equipment lined the walls.
At last he found what he was looking for. It was an old defunct freezer. Generally they were used to store dead specimen that needed to be kept from rotting, but it was unable to hold the cold in, so it was left in the basement to rot. It was easier to store than to ship out of Antarctica.
He pulled it opening revealing five rows of wireframe shelving. He pulled them out and stacked them on a nearby shelf. He pulled a flashlight out of his pocket and tired to the small sting leading to the burned out light bulb on the ceiling of freezer.
He climbed inside, pulling his portly body in with him. He knew he could fit, because on the first day in Antarctic Base 5, when he and Sherlock were exploring the downstairs floors, Howe had climbed inside and scared Sherlock by jumping out at him.
Howe pulled the door shut, eliminating the light not coming from the flashlight. He put the harpoon gun on his lap and gently stroked it as he got comfortable.
For the first time since arriving at Antarctic Base 5, Howe felt truly safe.
10
“Well it looks like Howe’s going to be little help in this matter,” Monty said looking at May and Sherlock.
“I think we should start searching for the killer,” Sherlock said, “He couldn’t have gotten far.”
“What if he went outside?” May asked, “He could be miles away by now, maybe he was picked up in a helicopter or something.”
“No,” Monty said, “Look outside, a huge storm is raging. There is no way a helicopter could land in this weather. And the storm started last night. When Bill was still alive.”
He gestured to a monitor next to a large steel door. It showed a huge snow storm. Since windows aren’t as safe as metal, there were a few cameras to show what it looked like outside when Antarctic Base 5’s inhabitants where inside.
“So their still in here,” May said nervously.
“Look’s like that may be the case,” Monty said gravely.
“Well, let’s get going,” Sherlock said, “The sooner we find whoever killed Bill, the better.”
“Let’s start looking around upstairs first,” May said, “It’s the smallest area to cover.”
“I second that emotion,” Monty said, with the first smile he had made since Bill was found.
“Maybe we should split up?” Sherlock proposed, “We can each take a floor. Then we’ll be done three times faster.”
“Sounds good to me,” Monty said, “What about you May?”
“Sure,” May said, “I’m fine with that.”
“Alright,” Sherlock said, “Monty you can search upstairs, May you can search the labs and I’ll go look around the basement.”
“And watch out for Howe,” Monty said gravely, “He’s not in his right mind, and I have no doubt he would shoot us if he thought we were trying to hurt him.
The other two nodded.
“See you soon,” Sherlock said, as he and May took the stairs down.
“Godspeed,” Monty said quietly, looking worried.
11
Sherlock and May parted ways at the door leading to the basement.
“Hey, Sherlock?” May asked timidly, “Be careful, alright?”
Sherlock looked back up the stairs at her.
May ran down a few steps and hugged him.
“Of course, I’ll be careful,” Sherlock said, somewhat confused, “You be careful too, okay.”
“Yeah,” She said, looking solemnly at him, “This wasn’t what I signed up for when I decided to do some research down here.”
“Me neither” Sherlock said, grinning wryly.
Then he walked down the stairs and out of sight.
May sighed and turned to the job at hand.
She decided to start in the chem lab. She opened the door and stepped in. The room was always a little chilly, in order to ensure complete safety when working with dangerous chemicals. May looked around the room; it was not a very big room, so it didn’t take a very long time to look around. She opened cupboards and peered underneath tables. Then she went over to the door where most of the chemicals were stored
A plastic plaque read: CHEMICAL STORAGE, then had some Braille dots underneath. May gripped the handle and pulled. It opened easily displaying a small cluttered room of shelves covered in numerous bottles of different colored liquid.
“Definitely nobody in here,” she said softly, backing out and closing the door behind her.
She looked in a variety of other labs, but still she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the killer. Or anybody else for that matter.
May had reached the last door in the corridor. This plaque read: BIOLOGIC SPECIMEN STORAGE. She opened the door and went inside.
She had never been in this room before, and it was an eerie place. This room was also kept slightly colder, and there were taxidermy animals all around. A large polar bear was stuffed in the corner and there were several penguins in various positions around the room.
There were also many examples of marine life pinned to boards.
So this is what Howe got up to in here, she thought.
Howe was a marine biologist, and this was his domain.
May sincerely hoped Howe wasn’t in here, but she thought that to Howe’s mind that this was too obvious of a hiding place, and he was hiding from them, not the other way around.
Several large fish tanks dotted the room. She looked through one of them and saw a school of small fish swim by. She smiled then gasped.
Through the glass a pair of eyes was staring at her.
She let out a bloodcurdling scream.
12
Monty pulled the sheets off the last bed in Barracks F. Nobody there either. Monty figured this would be the case, why would the killer hide so close to them. There would be much more risk involved.
Monty crossed the first floor to go look inside the couple storage closets on the first floor. He opened one up. It contained nothing but a few jackets and some plastic five gallon buckets. He closed it. The next one had some snow pants. The last was didn’t have anything in it all.
Monty wondered how the other two were faring. Clearly the murderer wasn’t on the first floor.
He felt an odd prickling on his back. Almost as if he was being watched. He shrugged it off. It was impossible. He was alone, who could possibly be watching.
With a start he heard a scream and started running downstairs.
13
The Watcher pinched his hand. He must be dreaming. He could have only hoped that the plan would go this well. Everything was falling into place.
He pulled out his phone again, and typed a brief response to the message there.
His employer was very curious about the situation within Antarctic Base 5. And the Watcher new everything about it.
14
As Sherlock left May he felt a bizarre mix of emotions running through him. He started wondering how May felt about him. He tried to put that out of his head. This wasn’t the time for romantic thoughts.
The lowest floor was full of junk. It was cheaper to let things rot here, than take them to some actual dump, so all of these scientific leftovers ended up staying here for long periods of time.
Sherlock doubted if it had ever been actually cleaned up.
This floor was actual one long room arranged like a supermarket. There were three long shelves of stuff.
Sherlock started walking down the first aisle, looking all around the room. There were many interesting things around him, but it was not the time.
One aisle down, no killer.
The next two aisles went similarly nothing out of the ordinary.
Sherlock noticed a large freezer.
Smiling, he remembered when Howe had jumped out at him from within. Sherlock leaned his hand closer to the door to open the freezer.
All of a sudden he heard a scream.
“May!” he cried and ran off toward the stairs.
If Sherlock had been listening, he might have heard the freezer sigh in relief.
15
Howe popped open the freezer door. He pulled himself out and looked around. Sherlock had gone, and Howe was pleased. He did not want to kill Sherlock, but he was prepared to.
Howe wondered if the killer had gotten May. If he did, then it had to be Monty, because Sherlock was down here. If she was alive…
Well, Howe didn’t want to think about that prospect. That would mean that he was wrong. And Howard Dale was never wrong.
He decided that it was no longer safe to remain in the freezer. He grabbed the flashlight and set out to explore some more.
He walked over to the shelves farthest from the entrance, looking for another place to hide his girth. He came upon another freezer. He pulled it open and nearly wet his pants.
A body lay on ice in the freezer. It wasn’t broken like the rest of the basement’s inhabitants.
Howe closed the door.
What the hell is going on here?
16
The eyes looking at May slowly washed out of view.
May nervously walked around to other side of the tank. A small card in front of the tank read “Epaulette Shark: Australia and New Guinea.” Inside the tank was a small shark, about two feet long. It had eye-like patterns on its back.
May sighed in relief.
Rapid footsteps behind her meant that the others had heard her scream.
Monty and Sherlock stood in the doorway.
“What’s wrong?” Sherlock gasped.
“Sorry,” May said, “False alarm. This shark’s eyes startled me.”
“Hmmm,” Monty said, “An Epaulette Shark? That’s a tropical shark, why does Howe have it here?”
“I have no idea,” Sherlock said, “Speaking of Howe, had anybody seen him?”
“No,” May said, shaking her head, “He’s not on this floor.”
“Or the top floor,” Monty continued.
“So I guess he’s in the storage room,” Sherlock said.
“Let’s
all go,” May said, “Safety in numbers right.”
“No,”
Sherlock said, “I’ll go alone, it’s just Howe.
Maybe I can talk some sense into him.”
“No, It’s not just Howe,” Monty said, “There’s still a killer on the loose.”
“It’ll be fine,” Sherlock said, “Listen, you guys go look through Bill’s things. Maybe you’ll find a reason why Bill was killed. There has to be a motive.”
“Now you sound like your namesake,” said Monty grinning.
Sherlock blushed.
“Seriously though,” Monty said, “If you need any help just call us, we’ll come running.”
“Thanks guys,” Sherlock said, “It means a lot.”
“Don’t mention it,” Monty grinned, “We got your back. Call me Watson.”
Sherlock shook his head and left the room, heading back downstairs.
17
Howe was still in shock when he heard footsteps coming back downstairs.
He jumped and knew he had to hide. If it was Monty, he was the only one alive. If not, well, whoever it was could only be the murderer. Whoever stashed that body in the freezer.
He held up his harpoon gun and looked both ways. He could see the shape of someone walking down the aisles. It stopped and went into the aisle adjacent to Howe. Howe licked his lips as he heard the freezer opened, and a grunt of annoyance.
“Nothing,” he heard Sherlock’s voice say.
Howe listened as the footsteps rounded the corner. His hands tightened on the trigger of the harpoon gun.
18
Smyth was rubbing his forehead. He had tried over and over again to contact the scientists of Antarctic Base 5, but to no avail. The phones were dead.
“Reginald?” Smyth asked.
“Yes, sir?” Reginald responded.
“Go fetch me the protected line.”
“You mean the one that contacts the head of the CIA?”
“Yes, my boss probably should be told of what is going on. Some very important government research is in progress in Antarctic Base 5.”
“Research involving what?” Reginald asked.
Smyth sighed.
“I suppose you should know. But first bring me the phone. It is of vital importance.”
Reginald left the room.
Smyth shook his head. Everything was not going as planned.
19
Howe stood in the darkness listening to Sherlock’s breathing.
In that instant Howe snapped. He realized what was going on. All of them were in on it. Monty and May and Sherlock and probably even Bill. They were all against him.
They thought they were so smart, that they could pull the wool over his eyes. They thought they could win.
The body. Bill. It all made sense. At least, to Howe’s deranged mind.
Thoughts were rushing and abounding in his head like a tornado. Only one thought of great importance to stick to his mind long enough was one of rage.
He would have to kill them all.
20
Monty and May were in Bill’s research lab. May had already checked and determined it murderer free, but she didn’t look at much of what he was up to.
Bill was still there, lying in a mangled mess on the floor. May had gotten a sheet from upstairs and used it to cover the body. She did not want to look at it any longer than necessary.
Monty had pried open Bill’s desk drawer. He always kept it locked.
“Well it seems that Bill was in direct correspondence with the director of the CIA,” he said.
“Really?” May asked, surprised, “I didn’t realize that he was so important.”
“Neither did I.”
Monty resumed looking at the documents.
“Hey, May, take a look at this one.”
He held out a piece of paper folded in half.
May unfolded it and started reading.
Dear Mr. William Goodwin,
I hope this memo find you in good health. I am sure your research is proceeding as planned. However, it is important for us to make sure that your findings remain secure. I assume you have still followed our orders not to discuss your research with the other scientists staying with you. This is critical. The data you are uncovering can have consequences of global proportion. Do not take it lightly. However that is not the main purpose of this document.
You last message has told me all I need to know about your work on the virus, and it sounds like it is coming along as planned. Thanks to a NASA satellite we have determined that the Antarctic Base 5 is no longer as safe as we have hoped. The ice shelf on which it stands, which was once strong, has become much unstable, to the point where it could possible fall into the ocean. This cannot occur.
We plan on sending a team in to extract you and the rest of the scientists out of Antarctic Base on the twenty third. Quickly and safely, finish your research, so that it can be brought back to American soil when you are retrieved.
Remember, Mr. Goodwin. Your work here is a great service to your country. The information you have acquired will be exceptionally useful in the future.
With all due respect,
Hugo Mitchellan
Director of Central Intelligence
May looked up from reading.
“Virus?” she asked, sounding worried, “Unstable?”
“Look at these,” Monty said, placing a handful of documents on Bill’s desk.
The documents were covered with complex schematics. Many chemicals were listed and ordered.
Monty was engrossed with the virus, but May had just realized something else.
“Hey Monty?” She asked.
“Yeah?”
“Well, this letter says we are on an unstable ice shelf.”
“Yeah.”
“And aren’t we in the middle of a huge storm?”
Monty stopped dead. He looked at May.
“Do you think that the shelf is weak enough to break off in the storm?”
May shrugged.
“I don’t know, you’re the ice guy.”
Monty thought about it.
“Unfortunately it is possible that the storm could break the ice, however, it is unlikely. I do not know what the exact state of the ice is, but I think for now we are safe.”
May didn’t say anything. She just looked worried.
21
The huge storm surrounding Antarctic Base 5 was roaring as loud as it ever had. If the base was not as reinforced as it was, the scientists might have heard it; however the base had layers of metal and soundproof glass, to prevent sounds from getting in.
It wouldn’t matter, because even if the glass there at all, they still would not have heard the small cracking noise from farther up the ice shelf over the sound of the storm.
A sliver, only about an inch long and less than a millimeter thick had opened on the ice. The crack would slowly get longer, until eventually it would split the ice shelf in two, and send Antarctic Base 5 into the ocean.
Time was running out for Antarctic Base 5.
22
On the bottom floor of Antarctic Base 5, Sherlock met Howe.
Howe looked sick; he was holding the harpoon gun pointed at Sherlock, and his hands were tight on the trigger.
Sherlock looked surprised.
“Howe—“
“Shut up,” Howe said.
“Howe, what’s wrong?” Sherlock asked.
Howe gestured to the freezer.
“That’s what’s wrong.”
“What’s wrong with the freezer?” Sherlock asked.
“Not the freezer, what’s in the freezer.”
“What’s in it?”
“I can’t tell you, you might be in on it too.”
“I swear, Howe, I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“Oh you don’t, do you? You have no idea?” Howe raved, insanity taking him.
Sherlock shook his head, and took a step backward.
“Scared, Mr. Reagan?” Howe asked, walking toward Sherlock, “Afraid that someone has figured out what you are doing? Afraid that you’re going to spend the rest of your insignificant life behind bars for what you and your friends have done.”
“Howe, I honestly have no idea what you are talking about,” Sherlock said.
Howe had clearly gone insane; his eyes bulged, and he was speaking nonsense.
“Why don’t you show me what’s inside the freezer,” Sherlock tried to speak calmly.
“You already know,” Howe said, his eyes shooting daggers into Sherlock.
23
Hugo Mitchellan was not in a good mood. He had just received news that Operation Nemesis was in danger of collapsing.
The plan had seemed so simple. But now forces beyond his control were threatening to overthrow all of the hard work he had put in on it.
As the director of the Central Intelligence Agency, there was little that Mitchellan was not in control of. But one simple storm could put an end to all the research. That and the infiltration of a team of scientists.
How could someone have snuck past the sensors. One person had been able to thwart the entire process of the CIA and become dangerously close to one of the greatest assets the American government had: Bill Goodwin.
The pathologist was pivotal in the work being done on Operation Nemesis. In fact, it would not be an exaggeration to say that William Goodwin was Operation Nemesis.
The weather in Antarctica was growing in velocity. Mitchellan was afraid for Bill, and more than Bill was Bill’s work.
It must be saved.
24
The Watcher clicked to a different window on his laptop. This one showed a satellite image of the ice shelf. A grey square indicated Antarctic Base 5. The Watcher clicked a box that generated a seismological graph. It showed a small crack. The Watcher smiled. Then the smile changed.
The Watcher determined his own location in relation to the crack.
A gasp of air escaped The Watcher’s throat.
If Antarctic Base 5 went for a dive, The Watcher was going with it.
25
Sherlock was frozen in horror, for the second time today. He knew he was about to die. Howe was going to kill him.
Howe’s deranged eyes were looking everywhere and nowhere at the same time. He held up the harpoon gun, pointing it at Sherlock.
“This is the end of the line, Mr. Holmes,” he said, his fingers twitching.
Sherlock braced himself for the end.
“Please, Howe, don’t kill me,” he pleaded.
“Please, Howe, don’t kill me,” Howe mocked, “Don’t tell me what to do.”
He pulled the trigger sending the harpoon deep into Sherlock’s abdomen.
Sherlock collapsed around the harpoon, and was thrown back into a shelf. A few old glass containers fell to the ground and shattered.
Howe smiled to himself.
One down, two to go.
26
The tinkling of glass echoed in the stillness. It interrupted May and Monty’s thinking.
“Do you think Sherlock’s okay?” May asked nervously.
“Well, I can think of three possible reasons for the sound. One, Sherlock had a klutzy moment. Two, Sherlock met Howe, or Three, Sherlock met the murderer,” Monty said.
“Should we check on him?” May asked.
“Yeah, probably.” Monty said, getting up.
They walked out of Bill’s lab and down the stairs to the basement.
“Sherlock?” Monty called.
“Sherlock,” May called.
As the two walked into the basement they didn’t notice the fat man crouching in the darkness nearby. He slipped upstairs as they started wandering around, calling for Sherlock.
Part 2:
Insanity
27
Howe ripped the drawer off its hinges. It went tumbling to the ground, papers scattering all over the room. He licked his lips, and blinked his mad eyes.
He turned around went to the back of the lab. A small, seemingly empty glass container was lying broken there. The past nights events returned to Howe’s mind.
He saw himself, looking for Bill, knocking over the glass container and breaking it. Hiding it. Bill finding him. Yelling at him. Losing control. Killing Bill. Running. Sleeping. Trying to escape the insanity.
Insanity consumed him. But sleeping somehow made it slow for a time, then it consumed him again, as soon as he saw Bill.
Howe looked at the container. He picked it up and grimaced. It cut his hand, sending small droplets of blood down his hand.
He closed his eyes, and dropped the container. He clenched his fists in preparation.
He reached in the drawer and retrieved the gun. He had seen Bill place it there on their first night in Antarctic Base 5. He checked it and saw he it had six shots left.
More than enough.
28
“Sit down, Reginald, this might shock you,” Smyth said.
Reginald sat down, feeling nervous.
“One of the scientists we sent to Antarctic Base 5 was Bill Goodwin, a pathologist. He works directly for Mitchellan, however, I was the middleman who sent him down there. Bill was developing a type of biologic weapon. I don’t know the exact details. But what I know is that it causes a kind of madness. Infected victims go insane.”
29
Sherlock lay on the ground. He wasn’t dead, but he was damn close. He could feel his intestines leaking out of him, and it was not a pleasant feeling. He knew removing the harpoon would cause more harm than good, so he left it in.
He heard his name being called from outside the fog that surrounded his mind.
“Sherlock.”
“Sherlock.”
“Sherlock.”
Sherlock tried to blink out the fade of death. He gritted his teeth and leaned forward stretching a hand toward were he thought the freezer was going to be.
Then darkness closed on him.
He felt first very hot. So hot. Then cold. Freezing. Arctic. Then nothing.
30
Howe held the gun tight in his hands. He was going to do it. Monty and May have lived long enough. There time is nigh.
31
Reginald gulped.
“What kind of madness?” he asked.
Smyth just shook his head.
“I can’t say for sure but I’ve heard that those who it was tested on where never the same again.”
“So you think whoever the imposter is trying to get the virus?”
“I’m afraid that is the only possibility, none of the other scientists had any involvement. A glaciologist, marine biologist, a hydrologist and an architect. What would anybody want with them?”
“An architect?” Reginald asked.
“One of them was trying to make structures out of ice and snow, which were capable of withstanding a ton of force.”
Reginald nodded.
“Well, Reginald, I think that is enough for today. You may go home. I have to make some phone calls.”
Reginald stood up.
“Yes sir, thank you.”
He left.
Smyth picked up the phone.
“The situation has been compromised.”
32
May and Monty found Sherlock. He was lying stiff on the ground near a freezer. He had a harpoon sticking out of his abdomen and one hand pointing out toward a freezer.
May cried out in horror and ran over to him.
“Sherlock, no, Sherlock,” tears began to run down her face.
She turned him over and cried into his chest.
Monty seemed to have gotten teary-eyed as well.
“Well, it seems Howe got to him first.”
“Do you think Howe killed Bill too?”
“I don’t know. It’s possible.”
“Wait a minute.”
Monty was looking at Sherlock with a weird face.
“What is it?” May asked, looking up at him.
“His hand. He’s pointing at something.”
They both followed the line of his hand to the freezer.
A sound made them stop.
It was slight like a small step someone trying to be quiet takes.
“Duck!” Monty cried, pulling May down to the ground. An explosion blasted one of the shelves sending its contents spilling over the ground.
Howe cried out in anger and moved in for the kill.
33
Reginald whistled nervously to himself as he started his car.
What a long day, he thought.
He was ready to go home and spend a long night in the armchair in front of the television and watch crime shows.
He drove out of the parking garage, showing his ID, to the attendant. He got onto the highway.
Reginald was just imaging himself watching CSI, when a red car swerved and smashed into his car.
The air bag blew up in an effort to protect the driver, but it was useless. The car had slammed into the front of the car and Reginald was killed in the impact.
The accident caused a ton of traffic on highway that day. The funny thing was, the police and ambulance team noticed when they arrived to clean up the mess, was that the driver of the red car seemed to have disappeared. It was marked down that he was incinerated in the collision and the event was soon forgotten.
34
Monty jumped up and tackled Howe, sending him wheeling backward. Howe lashed out throwing Monty off of him, and pointed the gun, pulling the trigger.
The floor tiling next to Monty’s foot was blown to pieces.
Monty punched Howe again, causing Howe’s noise to start bleeding.
Howe kicked out, hitting Monty in the groin, sending him to the ground.
Howe tightened his grip on the gun and was about to shoot when May jumped on him from behind. Howe let loose a bullet out of surprise. It hit the ceiling, sending material raining down on them.
Howe leaned down and then swung up sending May flying in the opposite direction. She crashed on the ground, landing on her arm with a cracking noise, and a pained grunt.
Howe turned on her, holding the gun in hand.
Meanwhile, Monty recovered and grabbed a glass beaker from one of the shelves. He crashed it on Howe’s head.
Howe stumbled and then collapsed face down.
Monty went over to May.
“You okay May?” He gasped.
May’s face was white. She shook her head, holding her arm against her body.
Monty reached a hand out and felt the arm. It was broken.
“It’s broken. Will you be fine for a minute while I tie up this sack of lard?”
“Yeah I think so.”
Monty grabbed a handful of rope of one of the shelves and bound Howe’s hands and legs. He then grabbed a long thin metal rod, the remnant of some old piece of scientific equipment and tied it to May’s forearm.
“Can you stand up?” Monty asked.
In response, May started struggling to stand up. Monty leaned forward and helped her up.
“So,”
Monty said, “Do you want to see Sherlock’s last
message?”
May nodded.
Monty went over to the freezer and slowly pulled it open.
“Christ,” he said, backing up.
“What is it?” May asked leaning over to look inside.
May froze in shock.
“What’s going on here?” She asked, confused.
“I don’t know, but we have to get out of here.”
35
While May and Monty were staring in shock at the body in the freezer, the madness overtook Howe, and he was awoken.
Howe vaguely felt himself bound and knew he couldn’t free himself easily. He slowly slid back and around, trying to be as silent as possible.
“What’s going on here?” May asked.
Howe pulled himself into the next aisle. There it was. Lying on the ground, bumped off a shelf in the fighting was a particularly sharp shard of glass. He rubbed his hands on it. Feeling cuts open in his hand, until he felt the ropes give. Howe proceeded to rip his bonds off his feet and throw them in the aisle. He careful crept into his old freezer, ready to bide his time and plan his next strike.
36
The Watcher pulled a small insulate flask out from next to him. He was not particularly pleased with the turn of events within Antarctic Base 5, however, it seemed the situation may resolve itself soon.
He took a sip of the warm liquid in the flask, and was about to take another when a loud, sharp cracking sound split the night. The flask fell out of his hand, spilling over the laptop. It short circuited and with a crisp buzzing noise. The screen blacked out.
The Watcher felt a feeling of horror creep up his spine. For the first time in his life, The Watcher was blind.
37
Outside Antarctic Base 5, the weather was calming down. The storm which had been tumultuous only moments ago, was now transforming to a light wind.
However, it was not the end of nature’s troubling assault on Antarctic Base 5. The sliver had widened into a long crack, nearly twenty feet long and about four inches thick. It was about ten feet deep, but getting deeper all the while. When it reached the bottom of the ice shelf, Antarctic Base 5 would go for a swim.
Another cracked had formed as well. It was well in front of Antarctic Base, five, about twenty yards; this crack had much less distance to go before cracking.
With a loud cracking noise, heard only by a single man, it fell thirty feet and splashed in the frigid ocean.
38
Ralph D’Arno pulled on a pair of warm but unrestricting snow pants with suspenders that he pulled over his shoulders and clipped together. On top of that he wore a jacket. The jacket would also not restrict his movements.
He was the leader on this mission for the team. They were going to fly in to extract some scientists from some base down in Antarctica. His team consisted of four men including him.
All four of them finished suiting up and climbed into the waiting helicopter. The pilot gave them a salute as he helped them get into their seats.
After some brief talking with the command tower, the helicopter was off.
The pilot leaned around.
“We should be there in about three hours,” he said.
D’Arno nodded in acceptance.
He looked out to see the lower half of the South American continent. It looked very picturesque from this height, and he was glad there was something to look at on this long flight.
39
Monty looked around. Then he grabbed the gun he had taken from Howe off the ground.
“What is it?” May asked worriedly.
“Howe’s gone.” Monty said simply.
May gasped. She looked where how had been and now there were only a few bloodstains.
“Where do you think he went?” May asked.
“I don’t know, but it can’t be good,” Monty said, “We have to find him.”
“And do what?” May asked, even though she already know.
“I we have to kill him. I don’t know who he is, but he has to die.”
The Base shook slightly.
“What was that?” May asked.
“I don’t know. But we have to get out of here. If this place is unstable I’d rather not be here when it collapses.”
As if to enunciate that, the body in the freezer tipped suddenly, and pulled by its heavy weight fell and landed with a dull thump.
Both of them looked at it.
“Geez,” Monty said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever sleep again.”
40
Hugo Mitchellan checked his watch. In about two hours the extraction team would arrive at Antarctic Base 5. Bill wasn’t answering his phone, but Mitchellan was not worried. What could possibly have happened in Antarctic Base 5 that could cause him to worry? Bill was fine, the storm probably just disrupted the signal, or maybe Bill dropped his phone. It was possible.
Mitchellan sighed and leaned back in his leather chair. He sighed and inhaled the musty smell of the leather.
Operation Nemesis was nearing its critical stages, and if what Bill had said was true, the virus was ready.
The details of the virus scared him, even though he dealt with death on a near daily basis, the virus chilled him to the bone. The madness it caused was horrifying. Mitchellan had seen the tests Bill had performed, giving the virus to captured terrorists and criminals alike. It always ended the same. Death. First madness, then a gruesome death. Blood would start leaking from their tear ducts, and their skin would begin to sag. Eventually they just fell apart. The brain was affected the worst. The virus would attack the brain with vigor, causing illogical though processes and hallucinations, eventually leading to complete shutdown.
It was horribly contagious too. It was designed that way. It can be passed through the air, just by being nearby within feet of someone infected. The worst part was that it did not begin right away. Sometimes it would take hours, even days to take effect. But when it did, it was lethal.
One of Bill’s main goals in Antarctica was to develop a cure. Last time they had conversed, it had seemed to be going well, but Bill had no human test subjects.
Mitchellan’s greatest fear was that it would somehow be discovered by foreign powers and attempted to be stolen. It was clear that this was very viable. Smyth’s newspaper clipping of the dead scientist scared him. If this Sherlock Reagan person was dead, who had been sent to the Base, and why?
41
Igor Sokolov was troubled. The man he had sent to steal the biologic secrets from the Americans had yet to report back again. He knew that his man was well implanted inside the society of the Antarctic Base 5, and he could not understand what could have compromised the situation.
His man was perfectly accepted into the fold. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. But now…
Sokolov shook his head angrily. That придурок had yet to respond to his calls. He had not replied to Sokolov in over twenty hours.
He was terrified that the infiltrator had been discovered. It would be terrible. He would be fired, probably murdered, if this came to pass.
If he was caught intruding on American affairs, he would become a scapegoat for the Russian government. The President and Prime Minister would declare him rogue, and execute him.
Sokolov sent another worried message to his insider, a man by the name of Dmitry Volkov.
42
Dmitry Volkov was bleeding. He looked at his bleeding fingers with no feeling however. Volkov just ignored and bowed to the insanity.
There were still two people left in Antarctic Base 5 alive, and they needed to be eliminated.
Volkov collapsed suddenly. He lay on the ground inside the chemical laboratory, gasping for air. He was hit with another wave of memories.
Being dropped in Antarctica. Hiking to Antarctic Base 5. Breaking in. Hiding in the basement. Waiting for the scientists. Attacking the scientist when he came downstairs. Strangling him. Shoving him in a freezer. Becoming him. Scaring his scientist friend. Becoming Howe Dale. Madness.
Howe/Volkov stood up. He no longer knew who he was. Volkov, Howe, it no longer mattered. All that mattered was destruction.
Howe/Volkov went into a storage closet. After rummaging around for a few seconds he found it. A case of brand new x-acto knives. He rubbed a finger on the blade of one of them, creating a crimson flow running down his hand.
Perfect.
43
Monty and May were back in the barracks.
“Dammit!” Monty cried throwing down his phone, “No reception.”
“Mine neither,” May said.
“Well, I guess we have to hike for it,” Monty said, “We need to get to a safe place.”
“Away from Howe,” May said.
Monty nodded grimly.
“Get your supplies together,” Monty said, “I want to leave this place as fast as possible.
Both of them frantically packed together two rucksacks of supplies. Monty still held the gun. They hadn’t seen Howe since finding the body in the freezer. They didn’t want to.
“I think we’re ready,” Monty said, hoisting the pack over his shoulder.
He was wearing a heavy blue parka. May was still wearing her pink one.
May looked sad.
“It’s sad, really,” she said, “I really liked it here.”
“Me too,” Monty said sighing.
Together, they departed. Monty pulled open the door and they stepped out into the tundra.
44
The Watcher was in shock. He saw Monty and May exit the base, and felt a sinking feeling in his chest. This shouldn’t be happening!
The Watcher grabbed the package in the back of the shelter, and ripped off the covering, revealing a pistol. Well, he certainly wasn’t going to let them get away free.
He exited the shelter and cocked the gun.
Time for The Watcher to save the situation.
45
The helicopter was now traveling across the Antarctic tundra toward Antarctic Base 5. D’Arno could see the Base in sight as they drew steadily closer.
He smiled, Piece of Cake.
Then the smile faded.
What the hell?
46
Monty and May saw The Watcher seemingly emerged from the snow, brandishing a pistol.
“Oh, no,” May whimpered, “Who’s that?”
“I have no idea,” Monty said, bewildered.
He waved a hand, smiling.
“Maybe he’s here to help,” Monty said hopefully.
47
The Watcher saw the two scientists waving at him.
Morons, he thought and leveled the gun at them.
48
May and Monty saw the gun pointing at them and dived to the side. A flash, and there was a smoldering hole in the snow where Monty was just standing.
The man started sprinting at them.
“May!” Monty yelled, “Run that way, I’ll take him.”
May nodded and sprinted across the ice shelf.
“You wanna play rough?” Monty said to himself, “Well you just got on Ray Monty’s bad side.”
He ran toward The Watcher.
49
The Watcher had to laugh as they split up, both running in opposite directions.
Foolish, He thought, there is no way to escape from me.
He shot again at Monty, who deftly dodged the bullet.
The Watcher and Monty were engaged in a game of chicken, both running full tilt toward one another.
Monty launched a shot at The Watcher. It glanced off his shoulder, sending a wave a pain through The Watcher. He grunted and shot at Monty. Monty avoided it.
The Watcher gritted his teeth and shot at Monty. He was so close; there was no way he could miss. But Monty had tripped and momentum pulled him out of harm’s way. Monty got up and fired another shot, catching The Watcher’s arm.
With a grunt The Watcher shot again. This time he didn’t miss. The bullet smashed into Monty’s stomach, sending him sprawling.
The Watcher moved in for the kill. But Monty wasn’t done yet he jumped and through the gun at him.
It connected with The Watcher’s head, sending pain shooting through him. Black fog started flowing in front of his eyes. He looked confused. Spinning around he fired shot after shot blankly, missing Monty each time.
Bullets ricocheted off the ice all around.
At last Monty stood up, holding a hand on his abdomen, and dived on The Watcher, sending the gun out of reach.
The Watcher jerked out of Monty’s grip and sprinted toward the pistol. He scooped it up and turned on Monty.
Gritting his teeth from the pain, his hand tightened on the trigger, about to fire a bullet into Monty’s head.
50
Monty was dying. He knew that, the wave of pain and the blackness beginning to cover his eyes was telling him so.
He had used the last bit of strength tackling the man with the gun. But it had turned out to be futile.
Monty watched through the fog as the man picked up the gun and pointed on him.
Monty’s last thought was that he hoped May would be all right.
Then a loud crack echoed across the ice.
But by then Monty was dead, lying limp on the ice. His eyes slid shut for the last time.
51
May was ducking when The Watcher’s stray shots were smashing the ground all around the ice. They missed her, but one of them struck the long crack in the ice.
May stared in horror as the ice shelf started sliding downward into the ocean.
She got up and started sprinting, toward the edge of the crack, hoping to make it to safety. She dearly hoped Monty had dispatched the man with the gun and was running behind her but she didn’t stop to check.
When she got to the edge she threw herself onto safety and got the wind knocked out of her. She gasped, trying to get air into her lungs as the scraping of the ice got louder and increased in velocity.
52
The Watcher realized what was happening and threw the gun to the side. He started running as fast as physically possible toward safety, Monty completely forgotten.
Pain was blurring his thinking, but squinting he could still make out where the crevice was.
The ice was sliding slowly at an angle downward, but it was gradually getting faster.
The Watcher saw a flash of pink and changed direction. He could get the woman and get to safety at the same time.
The speed was going faster now. He was hearing things now. What sounded like a helicopter was blasting The Watcher’s eardrums, he threw himself, just getting a hold of the edge, before the ice left beneath his feet and he was holding on to the edge with one hand.
53
D’Arno watched in helpless shock as the ice shelf with Antarctic Base 5, slid faster and faster as it slid off the mainland. With a splash it smashed into the freezing ocean. It started tipping, due to the imbalance of Antarctic Base 5, and it flipped over revealing the jagged bottom of the shelf.
D’Arno saw two figures near the edge of the new cliff.
“Get in there!” He yelled to the pilot.
The pilot nodded and headed toward the two people.
54
May had recovered and sat up. Antarctic Base 5 seemed to be gone.
May squinted around and then saw a few fingers on the edge of the cliff. She crawled closer and looked down, seeing The Watcher, terrified and yelling for help, a feeling started in her gut.
Hatred. It took over her mind. She felt mad, insane.
Insane.
Her hand clenched in a fist and she smashed it onto the hand.
The Watcher let out a grunt of pain.
“Please!” He bellowed, “I’m sorry.”
She smashed him again.
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