Deception Point [antikvár]

PROLOGUEDeath, in this forsaken place, could come in countless forms. Geologist Charles Brophy had endured the savage splendor of this terrain for years, and yet nothing could prepare him for a fate as barbarous and vumatural as the one about to befall him.As Brophy's four huskies pulled his sled of geologic sensing equipment across the tundra, the dogs suddenly slowed, looking skyward."What is it, girls?" Brophy asked, stepping off the sled.Beyond the gathering storm clouds, a twin-rotor transport helicopter arched in low, hugging the glacial peaks with military dexterity.Jhat^s odd, he thought. He never saw helicopters this fk north. The aircraft landed fifty yards away, kicking up a stinging spray of granulated snow. His dogs whined, looking wary.When the chopper doors slid open, two men descended. They were dressed in full-weather whites, armed with rifles, and moved toward Brophy with urgent intent."Dr. Brophy?" one called.The geologist was baffled. "How did you know my name? Who are you?""Take out your radio, please.""I'm sorry?""Just do it."Bewildered, Brophy pulled his radio from his parka.! V '.'y.^'iflmMiu .1;.;' I . : ^j ! J!. I ',