Shane Schofield Series 1 - Ice Station by Reilly Matthew

Author:Reilly, Matthew
Language: eng
Format: epub

Shane Schofield Series 1 - Ice Station

FIFTH INCURSION

Shane Schofield Series 1 - Ice Station

16 June 1551 hours

“Oh, Jesus,” Rebound said.

“How long till they get here?” Book asked.

Schofield's eyes were glued to the portable viewscreen. He looked at the box at the bottom of the screen. In it was a wire-​frame picture of a hovercraft. The wire-​frame hovercraft rotated within the box. Beneath it were the words: BELL TEXTRON SR.N7-S—LANDING CRAFT AIR CUSHIONED (UK).

“It's the SAS,” Rebound said in disbelief. “It's the fucking SAS.”

“Take it easy, Rebound,” Schofield said. “We're not dead yet.”

He turned to Book. “Thirty-​four miles out. Coming in at eighty miles an hour.”

“Definitely not friendly,” Book said.

Schofield said, “Thirty-​four miles at eighty miles an hour. That gives us, what—”

“Twenty-​six minutes,” Abby said quickly.

“Twenty-​six minutes.” Schofield swallowed. “Shit.”

The room fell silent.

Schofield could hear Rebound's breathing. He was breathing fast, hyperventilating.

Everyone watched Schofield, waited for him to make the call.

Schofield took a deep breath, tried to evaluate the situation. The SAS—the British Special Air Service, the most dangerous special forces unit in the world—was on its way to Wilkes Ice Station right now.

And it was being led by Trevor Barnaby—the man who had taught Shane Schofield everything he knew about covert incursionary warfare. The man who in the eighteen years he had been in command of the SAS had never once failed in a mission.

On top of all that, Barnaby was also jamming Schofield's radio, stopping him from getting in contact with McMurdo. Stopping him from making contact with the only people in the world who were capable of taking out the French warship that was hovering off the coast, waiting to launch its missiles at Wilkes Ice Station.

Schofield checked his stopwatch. It read:

2:02:31

2:02:32

2:02:33

Shit, he thought.

Less than an hour until they launched.

Shit. It was all happening too fast. It was as if the whole world were closing in around him.

Schofield looked at the range finder viewscreen again, looked at the swarm of dots approaching Wilkes Ice Station.

Twenty hovercrafts, he thought. Probably two or three men in each. That meant a minimum of fifty men.

Fifty men.

And what did Schofield have?

Three good men in the station proper. Three more down in the cave. Mother down in the storeroom and Snake handcuffed to a pole on E-​deck.

The situation didn't just look bad.

It looked hopeless.

Either they stayed here and fought a suicidal battle with the SAS, or they ran—made a break for McMurdo in the hovercrafts—and brought back reinforcements later.

There really was no choice at all.

Schofield looked up at the small group gathered around him.

“All right,” he said. “We get out of here.”

Schofield's feet clanged loudly as they landed hard on the cold metal floor of E-​deck. Schofield strode quickly across the deck toward the south tunnel and Mother's storeroom.

“What's going on?” a voice called out from the other side of the deck. Snake. “Trouble, Lieutenant?”

Schofield approached the handcuffed soldier. He saw the two French scientists kneeling on the deck on either side of him. They just stared resignedly at the deck.

“You made a mistake,” Schofield said to Snake.

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