Kyle and Ethan parted and allowed the man a clear path to the rear of the plane. They’d kept the ramp down for only one purpose: In case Zahra’s team returned early and needed a quick entry. The outdoor gusts were barely noticeable if they stayed behind the stowed Sno-Cat. At least to men like Kyle and Ethan. They’d spent enough time on the southernmost continent that they really didn’t mind the frigid temperatures.
An odd echo startled both airmen. They looked at one another with quizzical looks. Kyle exited the space between the passenger seats and the front of the Sno-Cat and headed to the right around the vehicle. Ethan went left. They met at the rear of the Sno-Cat and immediately went into defensive positions, kneeling and aiming their rifles out into the white void.
Carlo lay on the floor just into the open cargo hold ramp… with a bullet hole in his chest.
“They came back?” Ethan asked.
“No,” Kyle replied, “this is someone else…”
“How do you know that?”
The pair met eyes.
Kyle’s eyes hardened, and he smiled. “Because… I’m their leader.”
He adjusted his aim and shot Ethan point-blank in the chest.
Ethan fell back, gripping the wound with both hands. He was understandably confused and in severe pain. His trusted flight partner had shot him, and Kyle’s Wisconsin accent had vanished and been replaced with a German inflection.
Kyle got to his feet and stood over Ethan. “The Sixth Seal thanks you for your contribution.” For good measure, he shot Ethan again.
Six white-clad soldiers appeared from the wash outside. They calmly strode up the ramp and formed a tight semi-circle around their commander, Henri Vogel. He’d been stationed in Antarctica as a seasonal airman under the airtight persona of Kyle Ford for some time now. His connections within the American military had inserted him into Palmer Station with relative ease years back.
While here, Henri’s main objective had been to protect the location of the Underworld ruins. His time was also spent gathering intelligence as he hacked into mainframes and data storage for any useful information. The Sixth Seal possessed a stellar IT network that would then dig through the data for additional intel.
He was also now an expert in the terrain. No one in the Sixth Seal knew Antarctica better than he did.
“Good to see you, Commander. Been a long time.”
Master Chief Luka Meier was newer to the strike team, but Emil had praised his ability and efficiency. Henri had gladly promoted Luka upon receiving the lieutenant’s recommendation.
Kyle —
Luka went to move but stopped. “The Underworld… Do you believe it’s safe?”
Everyone knew of the story, but only Henri knew the facility’s exact location outside of the Krauses. Over the years, soldiers had asked why the Sixth Seal hadn’t simply checked the Underworld for the reported cave-in.
Henri was once one of those young men.
“Why?” he had asked.
“Because of the poisoned air,” Ulrich had replied. “From what my father has told me, the entire facility is tainted with a cocktail of deadly vapor.”
“How does he know?”
Henri had known that his commander should not have been telling him any of this, but the pair had been friends for some time, and Henri had shown himself to be an exemplary lieutenant, as his father had been years prior.
“A communique was sent shortly after the disaster,” Ulrich replied. He stared hard into Henri’s eyes. “From Dietrich Krause.”
Henri then understood everything. Himmler and Dietrich were the ones who had instilled Hitler’s “leader principle” into the Sixth Seal. And similarly, their word had been treated as the Gospel. No one disobeyed them, especially Tobias.
But then, Himmler had died, and Dietrich was never heard from or seen again.
The evidence inside the U-boat concerned Henri. It called attention to a rising doubt inside his gut. Never once had anyone mentioned a missing submersible, not even Ulrich. The mass killing within it worried him, too. The American agent had executed Dietrich after he had sent the message to their allies back home.
Henri breathed.
All Henri knew for sure was that Dietrich Krause had been murdered by one of his own men. That in itself was a shock. But it was believable considering the crew’s predicament. It had also been possible that the American had snapped and killed everyone while lost in a crazed mental state.
