25.

45 12 0
                                    

After a four-hour journey, The U.S. Air Force's F-14 jet fighter reached the Montego Ice shelf. After finishing circling the island for a while, it listened to the coordinates on the radio and started to land. The DC-3 plane that came in the morning was still on the runway, they didn't permit it to return to the mainland. Another make-shift runway was newly constructed a hundred yards to its left;  The F-14 landed there. After Taxiing to settle down at the end of the runway, the pilot put off the engine, then opened the fiberglass canopy. Instantly the cold arctic air swept the cockpit through the opening.

"Are you all right, sir?" asked the pilot, looking back at the passenger's seats.

Douglas Bullock, AKA Bulldog, scoffed without answering.
He was not an aviator, sitting in a fighter jet running at Mach-3 speed;
He was at his limit already- suffering from motion sickness.
He had to restrain his nausea with great effort. He waited a minute to calm himself down and then came down from the cockpit. His legs were wobbling, the body has not fully regained balance yet. He was going to fall if someone didn't grab him right in time.

He freed himself hurriedly and said in a rude voice, "alright. I don't need your help!"

His teeth started chattering already.
He had to scrunch up his face to stop shaking while talking.

The man backed away in fear but handed him a heavy woolen jacket and a pair of pants nonetheless.

"Put them on, sir."

Bulldog grabbed the clothes and looked ahead. Two tractors came and
stopped next to the landed fighter jet. six people disembarked from them. A senior officer came forward. 

He said, "Good afternoon,
Mr. Bullock. Welcome to Montego."

"Who are you?" asked bulldog while putting the warm clothes on.

"Commander Eugene Decker-Commanding officer of Coast Guard Ship Newburgh."

"Where is your ship?"

"Anchoring right next to the shelf."

"What are you waiting for? Are those bastards from Brighton still adamant about not handing over that old fool?"

Decker hesitated for a second, "that's not the case. You were en route, so nothing was reported on the radio. Umm...I mean...a miss-hap happened here."

"Miss-hap! What happened?"

"That Scientist is dead."

Bulldog paused while closing the chain of his jacket, "what did you just say?"

"You heard right, sir. Dr. Stanley Donnen is dead."

"What! How??"

"He was shot. We found the body outside the facility...on ice. One side of his head was blown off. I guess, sniper shot."

Bulldog remembered Jin's sniping skills in a flash, "does Kim Seokjin has any connection to his murder?"

"He was present at the ice shelf during the incident, also with Dr. Donnen at that time. So far this much has been confirmed. But what happened after- nobody has any idea at all."

"What do you mean by no one has any idea?" Bulldog didn't try to surpass his growl.

Decker raised his hand and pointed to the ice tractor, "let's go. I'll explain everything on the way. I think you will want to see the facility. That is a battlefield right there.
People of the facility aren't in a good condition either. Everyone is still suffering from the side effects of the gas. My medical team is treating them."

"I don't understand anything you are spewing. What gas, what battlefield?
Who fought—you and your men?"

"No, Mr. Bullock, not us. Sadly, the showdown ended even before we arrived here." Commander Decker smiled a bit, "let's not waste any more time standing here. I'll clear everything up on the way. If anything seems unclear, the facility's security chief can explain it to you."






PhoenixOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora