Frozen Agenda by Maureen A. Miller

Author:Maureen A. Miller
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Maureen A. Miller
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

“There’s your plane.” Morten Falk craned his head to peer through the windshield of his parked sedan.

A small red plane approached, the sound of its propellers audible even inside the car.

“It snows more on the Banana Coast than here,” he said. “So I hope you packed for it.”

“The Banana Coast?” Gretchen watched the plane bounce over a crack in the runway.

“Eh, locals call it that. Southern Greenland is their tropical coast. By comparison to here, the weather can be downright stifling in the summer.”

“Define tropical,” Zach said.

“We once set a record of 30 degrees in the summer—about 85 in Fahrenheit.”

“Yeah, I’d say that’s tropical.”

“Like I said, it was only once. Global warming and such. But the winter—the winter is a different story. You’re going to need to boondle up. Really pretty in the summer. Fjords and mountains. Green hills.”

“But not in the winter,” Gretchen stated.

“No. No. Not in the winter. There’s snow. Pretty much just snow. Edgar didn’t say where you were going, but there aren’t many roads around Narsarsuaq. You travel by helicopter or boat depending on the weather and ice.”

“Nar-sar-swak,” Gretchen repeated the word to make sure she got it right.

Much of the Inuit population had dark hair and dark eyes. She was hoping to fit in. She had even purchased a couple Brynja sweaters in town. The thick knit water repellant sweater would come in handy, but right now with the heat blasting inside Morten’s car, she almost perspired.

“Just sightseeing,” Zach evaded the topic. “So you can still charter boats in the winter?”

“Yah. Yah. You can do anything for money. Weather might keep you landlocked, but some of these captains—they don’t care. They maneuver around icebergs for a living.” He threw his long arm over the seatback and beamed at them with vivid blue eyes and slightly yellowed teeth. “I can come along. I might be able to help. Show you around—my time is yours. Edgar said—”

He looked like an extremely tall puppy—eager to obey—eager to please.

“Thanks Morten,” Zach said. “Seriously. We appreciate all your help—and for getting us here to the airport.”

Tan creases framed the cerulean eyes. Pale by nature, this Danish man was tarnished from a life in the sun. Enthusiasm illuminated the rest of his features.

“You have my number. You call if you need anything. I’ll be on the first plane. Expenses fall under Edgar’s budget. He told me there are no worries with cost.”

“You professors have awesome expense accounts,” Gretchen remarked.

Morten nodded in agreement. “The truth, no? All right, then. You best get going. Ed didn’t give me your return flight information.” It was a leading statement to which there was no answer.

“We aren’t sure yet. We’ll call as soon as we know our schedule. Oh, and Morten—” Zach reached for the door handle, “—if you hear of any sightings of our friend—Tim—you have my number. You’ll call?”

“Of course. Of course.” The Dane nodded so fervently his spiked hair scraped against the car’s ceiling. “Until then, safe travels my friends.”

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