Read V Plague (Book 11): Merciless for Free Online

Russian pilot’s body.  There was a knife stuck in it that would come in handy.  And maybe some other things I could use.  But I didn’t see it.
    Standing there, I turned until I was oriented the same way I’d landed.  The wind was at my back, which meant I’d been pushed from that direction once I’d opened the parachute.  The falling body of the pilot would have been affected by the same wind, but not nearly as much.  He should be behind me.
    Facing to my rear, I started walking.  Slowly.  Stopping every hundred paces to turn a full circle and make sure I hadn’t walked past the corpse.
    The wind was a fierce creature with claws like ice, tearing at my clothing and exposed skin.  Sucking away my body heat.  Making it hard to walk, forcing me to lean forward and expend even more energy as I fought for each step.
    On my tenth stop, I sighed after turning a complete circle and not spotting the dead Russian.  Had I missed him, or had I not gone far enough?  Normally, a thousand of my paces would be very close to a thousand yards.  But with the weather, I knew I was taking shorter steps, not striding like I usually would. 
    Deciding to continue for another thousand steps before moving laterally to search, I pushed on against the wind.  And was rewarded on stop number eight.  To my right, almost at the limit of the night vision goggles’ ability to see, a large lump rested on the ground. 
    Five minutes later, I looked down at the Russian pilot’s corpse.  It had ruptured on impact with the frozen, rocky soil.  Body fluids that had leaked out of the flight suit were already freezing.  The knife had been jarred loose and I found it ten feet from the body. 
     

5
     
    “He’s where?”  Admiral Packard asked the Lieutenant running the tactical operations console in Pearl Harbor’s Combat Information Center or CIC.
    “Ellesmere Island, sir.  It’s Canadian territory.  Well above the Arctic Circle.  But we don’t know if it’s him or a Russian.”
    “The last I was told, his plane was on course for Baffin Bay and a flyover of Greenland.”
    Packard didn’t sound happy, and the Lieutenant wasn’t at all excited about delivering unexpected news.
    “This island borders Baffin Bay, sir.  It’s separated from Greenland by a narrow channel, just under 20 miles wide,” the young officer said in a rush.
    “Slow down, Lieutenant.  Tell me what happened.”
    “Yes, sir.  We intercepted the Russian plane over Baffin Bay.  Ordered it to turn around.  They refused.  The Spetsnaz on board held a weapon to the Major’s head and ordered our pilots to back off.  They didn’t.  One of them came in over the top of the transport and positioned himself directly in front of the cockpit, then went to full afterburner.
    “Half of the windscreen was compromised by the jet blast and the Russian pilots began evasive maneuvers.  We pursued, but couldn’t maintain visual contact in the clouds.  One of our pilots reported a small explosion and fire that he believed was one of the plane’s engines.  Not long after, the aircraft exploded.
    “The flight dropped below cloud cover and an emergency strobe was spotted on the ground.  They captured a shot of the survivor with one of the F-18’s gun cameras, but the quality is too poor for identification.  We’re trying to enhance it now, but those cameras aren’t made for high resolution imaging.”
    “What do we have in the area?”  Packard asked.
    The officer spun his chair around and began working his console.  Packard moved closer, peering over the man’s shoulder as he worked.
    “The closest carrier is the Lincoln, in the North Atlantic, but it’s several days away, sir.  But, we do have a sub patrolling the Arctic Ocean.  Right here,” the Lieutenant clicked a mouse and a large circle was drawn over an immense, empty stretch of water.  “The Seawolf, sir.  This is their patrol sector.”
    Packard leaned closer, noting for the first