***
“Gratzie?” Connie said, her voice rising. “Gratzie?”
“I couldn’t think,” Walt said. “I drew a blank.”
“Oh, let’s just get out of here before something else happens.”
The helicopter was parked just behind the Chalet, and the two of them had been able to sneak onto it without being seen. Powering up the radio was not overly complicated, with some prior instruction from Lt. Richards. They carried a battery operated drill that Connie ran while Walt talked that lent the kind of background noise usually associated with an aircraft in flight. It appeared to have worked.
They backtracked around the ‘Jamesway’ camp, the tents where most of the tradesmen lived while on station, past the machine shop where they had so far stolen a case of beer, one truck, and a drill. Walt replaced the drill and called it even. Then they scrambled up Observation Hill so that they could look out over the Ross Ice Shelf to see if they could spot the caravan of Alpines and Nansen sleds. They could just barely make them out as the oncoming storm blew snow drifting over the ice.
“I sure wish we could have gone with them,” Walt said, sadly.
“I’m sure glad we didn’t have to go with them,” Connie said at exactly the same time.
They both laughed and looked at each other, their glance lingering for just an instant.
“I’m even more glad you didn’t either,” Connie said, just barely above a whisper.
Walt looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time, and his eyes widening, jaw dropping. He stammered something, suddenly at a loss for words. But she slipped her arm through his and didn’t say anything as they watched the departing train as it disappeared into the deepening clouds.