Cold Fury. Don Pendleton

the side panel and took out the black balaclava. It was made of a thin material that expelled perspiration but allowed the wearer to feel warmth in colder climates while maintaining comfort in unbearably hotter ones. He gave the mask to Grimaldi, who slipped it on and went back to his inspection of the chopper.

      Bolan was digging in his own backpack when Case came up beside him.

      “I didn’t know you DOJ agents did field investigations like this,” he said. “Aren’t you guys more into the white-collar stuff?”

      Grimaldi paused with his inspection and pulled open the parka, gripping the dark collar of his BDU blouse with his thumb and forefinger. “Does that look white to you?”

      Case said nothing.

      “We’re more in the tactical investigative branch,” Bolan said.

      Case looked from one to the other and nodded. “Okay. I get it.” He pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number.

      Bolan wondered whom the man was calling, but didn’t ask. Case spoke loud enough for him to gather that the call was to the central dispatch regarding the trooper sent to the Wales area.

      After a few moments, Case frowned and terminated the call. “My trooper still hasn’t checked in again from the scene,” he said. “How soon can you get that thing ready?”

      “Give me about ten more minutes,” Grimaldi said.

      Case nodded and went to a Jeep Cherokee with Alaska State Police markings. He opened the door and removed a duffel bag and an AR-15 that was sitting on top. He slid the rifle into a black leather sleeve attached to the side of the bag. Bolan was glad to see that the weapon had a thirty-round magazine.

      In a few minutes they would be underway and hopefully on the trail of some answers.