O'Shea's Love (Megalodon Team Book 7)

McMurdo Station, Antarctica

The helicopter touched down on the ground, its shiny blue door opening as a tall man, bundled up against the elements, jumped out. He slammed the chopper door closed behind him and headed towards the building that would hopefully offer some shelter against the blasted wind. Sealing the hatch behind him upon entering said building, the man looked around. There weren’t that many people in the narrow halls of the bunker, but the ones he saw seemed comfortable in just long sleeves.

He pulled the hood of his parka off his head and continued on towards his destination, his strides sure. Coming to a halt at an end, he spun sharply to the left and walked into what appeared to be a dining area. There were about five people in there, sitting together and chatting. When they saw him enter the room, silence reigned.

“I’m looking for Hummel,” he announced.

One of the people at the table spoke up. “Don’t believe Hummel is here. I think you should check with Gates; you can find him at the end of this hall.”

“Thank you.” He moved out silently.

At the end of the hall, he found a closed door. He reached out one gloved hand and knocked.

“Enter,” a raspy voice called out from inside.

Pushing open the door, the man stopped and met the gaze of the person behind the desk. “Are you Gates?”

The blond head nodded in response. “I am Benjamin Gates; you can call me Ben. And who are you?” He stuck out his hand.

“My name’s Aidrian O’Shea.” The man stepped forward to shake the offered hand.

“Right, Mr. O’Shea. You called ahead; something about talking to Hummel.” The bearded man gestured to a chair in front of the desk.

“I did. I want the best to teach me. And I heard Xar Hummel was the best.” Aidrian’s large frame settled easily into the chair.

Leaning back in his own, Benjamin Gates studied the man across from him. Aidrian knew what he saw—a tall man, a few inches over six feet; a shaved head with eyes so dark they appeared black; a muscled framed with skin the color of dark chocolate stretched over it.

“Jötunn is the best we have. But that isn’t going to help you. Jötunn ain’t here.”

Aidrian caught the grimace before it could cross his face. “I don’t care about Jötunn. Where is Xar? I want a face-to-face.”

Ben ran his tongue over his teeth before he picked up the phone and pressed a green button. “Gary, where’s Jötunn? Okay, thanks.” He placed the handset back in the cradle. Putting his blue eyes on the man sitting across from him, he relayed the message. “Jötunn is what we call Xar. You will have much better chance of talking to Hummel with that name as opposed to Xar. And right now, Jötunn is at Station Molodezhnaya, has been for a while, and is about to begin station jumping to get to Australia. Then in a few days, I believe, will be at an airport to leave for Nepal.” He flashed a smile. “Sorry.”

This time, Aidrian’s frustration did show. He’d been held up at the previous station before coming out here now and had missed the person he’d wanted to meet.

Not that it would’ve mattered if Xar Hummel’s been at another station this whole time. “Is there any way to get him a message and have him wait for me at this other station? It’s extremely urgent I speak to him.”

A flicker of amusement crossed Ben’s face. Shaking his head, he picked up the phone and placed a call. Three minutes later, he hung up and sighed heavily. “Sorry. Didn’t catch Jötunn in time. But the crew radioed ahead from there to Geelong, which is in Victoria. We can arrange to get you out on our next flight, head to Amundsen-Scott and leave from there. Hopefully, the message will find its way to Jötunn in time. Good luck.”

Aidrian shook the bear of a man’s hand one more time and went back down the cold hallways at a decent clip to the chopper, determined to make this contact. A member of SEAL Team Seventeen, the Megalodons, he wanted to learn all he could about ice climbing and trekking. Checking in with a few people, he’d gotten one name out of the bunch. Xar Hummel was the one to teach him.

He buckled his belt and the chopper took off seemingly seconds afterward. Once he landed at Amundsen-Scott, he was off and running to make it to the one plane leaving for Australia. By some stroke of luck, the pilot heard he was searching for Hummel and held the flight for him.

For the first time in three days, since he’d begun his search, Aidrian felt like he had a chance. Clos-ing his eyes, he drifted off to sleep as the plane hit cruising altitude. He didn’t wake up until they were circling for a landing in Australia.