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Dan broke in, cutting off Sasha’s reply. “We’ve only got a few minutes left before we lose this uplink and the satellite moves out of range. We’re looking for another one we can bounce a signal off of.”

“We’ll keep these helmets close.”

“Actually…” Dan said. “You can’t get throughUnityto the Soyuz, right?”

“No. It’s too great a risk.” Mark’s eyes slid shut, and Sasha heard what he didn’t say in the clench of his fists. Mark couldn’t put down what Phillipa had become. He couldn’t do that to another of his friends—couldn’t do what they’dneedto do if they opened that airlock.

“These suits you’re using to communicate. They’re in the aft starboard airlock onDestiny?”

“Yes, the one we don’t use anymore.”

“Do they look like they can fit you?”

They were older models, something the ISS crew had stopped using almost a decade ago and hadn’t gotten around to hauling off the station. They were backup suits, the just-in-case suits. To wear them, they needed an oxygen washout, time to equalize pressure between the station and the suits, or they could develop the bends. Nitrogen narcosis on a space walk was an excruciating death.

“Might be a tight fit, but we can make it work. What are you thinking, Dan?”

“Get dressed. You two are taking a walk to the Soyuz.”

“And then?”

“How about a trip to the moon while we buy some time down here?”

Mark met Sasha's gaze. That smile was back, along with that look in Mark’s eyes, the one Sasha had hung his hopes and dreams on, had pinned to the sky and followed like a star map. His hero. His best friend. “I like the sound of that.”

As Mark spoke, a thin trail of blood bubbled out of Mark’s nose and splattered against the inside of his helmet. Another line of crimson snaked forward from his ear and crawled across his temple.

Sasha screamed.

* * *

40

Bolshevik Island

Russia

Bare rock batteredby Arctic winds and carved by thousands of years of advancing and retreating glaciers rose on the horizon. “Bolshevik Island,” Kilaqqi said over the helo comms system. His voice was muffled in the old headset Ethan wore. The roar of the rotors in the biting air was still almost too loud.

He looked north, peering into the vast and empty wasteland. Black rock and ice pack unfurled before him, all the way to the curve of the earth, melting into the hazy boundary between snow and smudge-gray sky. Somewhere, not too far away, was October Revolution Island.

He’d been there before.

Why did terrorists hide at the edges of the world in the most inhospitable places? He’d like to go after the madmen intent on destroying life as everyone knew it from their base in Tahiti. Or Vanuatu. Hell, he’d settle for Maui.

“Bring us down low, and fly north through that canyon. I don’t want to give away our position. We need the element of surprise.”

Nodding, Kilaqqi spoke to the pilot, translating Ethan’s orders.

Pete and Blake huddled together in the cargo hold, a frigid bundle somewhere under a mound of wool blankets. Two boot toes stuck out of the edge of the blankets: two right feet. Beneath, the men had donned every piece of their cold-weather gear, from goggles to balaclavas to gloves, and three underlayers beneath their jackets.

Welby sat beside Ethan, eyes closed, rifle slung across his chest. They’d both dressed for the Arctic at their stopover in Norilsk, where Kilaqqi had argued with the airport handler at the ice- and rust-covered airfield for a full tank of fuel. While they’d haggled and the wind had whipped the sour air across the filthy city, Ethan had called Jack.

He’d told him about Yamantau, about descending into the mountain and how they’d flushed Zeytsev from the bunker. And how Zeytsev had backup from the Spetsnaz forces supposedly barricading the mountain. “I’m not sure everyone in the Russian military is on Sergey’s side.”

“I’m not certainanyoneis on Sergey’s side anymore, other than the people in this building.” Jack had sighed like he was pushing out his soul. “I brought part of NASA’s Mission Control with me. We’re working out of Roscosmos. We made contact with Mark and Sasha for a few minutes. It’s not good.”

“Are they infected?”