Operation Antarctica

Начало книги

Captain John Banks’ mind reeled with the information he’d just been given. Huddled against the cold, he stood on the deck of the icebreaker wondering what to tell the squad. The Southern Cross hung high in the sky amid a blanket of stars, and away on the horizon the white wall of the ice shelf that was their destination was clearly visible in the twilight that passed for full nighttime at this time of year. The vessel’s sharp prow cleaved the waves, and they made good time through clear water, with the long ribbon of their wash trailing behind to the horizon, a glistening silver smear on the water.

Lossiemouth, London, the Azores, the Falklands and now here, right on the verge of Antarctica. It had proved to be a long, tiring trip already. Thirty-six hours ago, the colonel had said jump, and S-Squad jumped; Banks, Sergeant Hynd, Corporal McCally, and five old hands from those available for immediate assignment. Banks knew Wiggins and Parker from Afghanistan, good men both. The other three were new to him, but if they were on the rotation, they had the training and they knew the drill. He had no worries on that score. The only thing he was worried about was being laughed out of the room when he told them what had been thought important enough to subject them to the trip.

Читать дальше →