LAKE THINGVALLAVATN,
SATURDAY 30 JANUARY, 2100 GMT
The second meeting
between the Icelandic government and the American military
authorities was also conducted in secrecy. This time it was held at
the prime minister’s holiday retreat on Lake Thingvallavatn, a
four-bedroom house equipped with all mod cons, including a sauna
and hot tub, and commanding a panoramic view of the lake. The
minister for justice had joined the Icelandic contingent, and
facing them across the table once again were the admiral,
representing the American Defense Force at Keflavík, and at his
side Immanuel Wesson, provisional head of the US embassy in
Reykjavík.
The clock on the wall
showed 9 p.m. exactly. At suppertime the prime minister had been
notified by the police and air traffic authorities that a rescue
team, currently on Vatnajökull, had passed on the message that
armed US soldiers had been sighted on the glacier. Two members of
the team who had apparently come into contact with them had
subsequently been found – one dead, the other badly injured and not
expected to live.
‘The survivor’s name
is Elías,’ an aide had told the prime minister, handing him a
dossier. ‘He’s believed to be the brother of the woman Kristín who
vanished from her home, leaving behind the body of a man called
Runólfur Zóphaníasson.’
‘Are the two cases
connected?’ the prime minister asked.
‘It appears they
are,’ the aide confirmed. ‘A wanted notice has been put out for her
in the national media. This Kristín is also believed to be
connected to a shooting incident in the city centre earlier
today.’
‘Do we have anything
on that?’
‘Not much as yet.
It’s believed that two or more Americans were involved in the
incident. One of them is lying badly injured in hospital, the other
fled on foot and we don’t know where he is. Kristín’s whereabouts
are also unknown.’
Shortly afterwards, a
report had reached the prime minister that two of the Defense Force
helicopters were airborne and heading east. No flightpath or
destination had been submitted, nor had air traffic control
received any request for permission to fly through Icelandic
airspace, as protocol demanded. Furthermore, the prime minister had
been informed that an Icelandic Coast Guard helicopter was on its
way to airlift the two rescue team members who had been found on
the glacier, after the Defense Force’s unprecedented failure to
respond to an earlier mayday from the team. The violent storm that
had been raging on the glacier was now dying down and members of
the rescue team were heading towards the area where the troops had
been reported. News of the events on Vatnajökull was spreading
fast: the evening radio bulletin had carried a short but accurate
summary and promised listeners that updates would be broadcast
soon.
The prime minister’s
immediate reaction on learning of these developments was to summon
the admiral from Keflavík to a meeting, but the admiral beat him to
it. He phoned the prime minister, requesting an urgent meeting to
be held in secret outside Reykjavík, adding that the US defense
secretary was prepared to address them by telephone if necessary.
The prime minister was audibly taken aback. He understood from the
previous encounter that the operation on the glacier was a
sensitive issue for the Americans, but surely there was no chance
of suppressing it now?
He introduced the
minister for justice, explaining that he had been briefed, before
relaying the information that he had received about the latest
events on the glacier and in Reykjavík. The Americans listened in
silence.
There had been few
pleasantries when the Americans arrived. The admiral seemed on
edge, the general impassive. Unlike the admiral, he was in uniform,
while the Icelanders in contrast were casually dressed in jumpers
and jeans.
‘Is it true that
there are armed American troops on Vatnajökull?’ the prime minister
asked, once he had outlined the situation.
‘You know why we have
troops on the glacier,’ the admiral answered, ‘and I thought we had
come to an agreement at our last meeting. It’s what’s known in
military parlance as a simulation exercise, involving visiting NATO
forces from the Netherlands and Belgium and revolving around a
staged plane crash. There are approximately one hundred and fifty
personnel involved. The troops are carrying blank rounds which are
not under any circumstances lethal.’
‘Why weren’t we
informed about the weapons?’ the prime minister asked. ‘At our
previous meeting you only mentioned transporting that damn plane
off the glacier and across the Atlantic. It was supposed to happen
without anyone being any the wiser. Now a man has died. We were led
to believe that it was a scientific expedition, not a war game. How
do you explain this behaviour? This gross violation of our treaty?
This insult? Your disgraceful conduct has put a severe strain on
relations between our countries. A severe strain.’
‘We are in no way
responsible for what happened to the member of the rescue team,’
the admiral responded. ‘Furthermore, the exercise will be completed
before noon tomorrow and our personnel will be gone from the
glacier, leaving no trace of their presence. It’s really not a
major issue. I would like to think that we can stick to the
explanation we agreed on: a two-day exercise, nothing
more.’
‘The rescue team has
reported that your men are armed. The leader moreover suspects that
the two Icelanders they found in the crevasse had in some way
disturbed your activities. Is that possible?’ asked the minister
for justice, a bearded man in his early forties, with small,
perpetually anxious eyes.
‘We have no
information to suggest that that is the case,’ the admiral replied.
The general had not contributed a word. He was occupied in looking
around the room, at the Icelandic paintings on the walls, and
outside at the veranda with its hot tub and the impenetrable
darkness beyond, unrelieved by any lights.
‘We are working under
extremely difficult conditions in the field,’ the admiral
continued, ‘but I can assure you that no one has given orders to
open fire on Icelanders or indeed anyone else.’
‘The shooting
incident in the city centre earlier today – is that in any way
connected to this matter?’ the prime minister asked. ‘Are your men
shooting at Icelandic citizens now? All the evidence suggests that
Icelanders have become some sort of target in your war
games.’
‘We are aware of the
shooting but I can give you a categorical assurance that it has
absolutely nothing to do with the operation on Vatnajökull,’ the
admiral replied. ‘They are two completely unrelated
matters.’
‘And the two
helicopters that have been dispatched from the base?’
‘Three of our men
were involved in an accident. Nothing too serious. The choppers are
on their way to fetch them.’
‘We have also been
informed that you failed to respond to a mayday from the glacier
requesting the assistance of the Defense Force helicopters,’ the
foreign minister intervened. ‘Is there any truth in
this?’
‘I am not aware of
that,’ the admiral said, dropping his gaze to the table and
shuffling his notes. ‘I don’t believe that such a thing occurred,
though naturally I will have the allegation
investigated.’
‘There is one thing
we need to ask you, gentlemen,’ the general said, opening his mouth
at last. All eyes turned to him. He cleared his throat. ‘This
rescue team – we want it out of there.’
He spoke brusquely,
as if he had other better things to do than waste his time on
diplomatic talks or making roundabout excuses like the
admiral.
‘What do you mean?’
the prime minister asked, disconcerted. The admiral slowly closed
his eyes.
‘Out of there, I
said. We want the team out of there. They’ll ruin our exercise if
they start interfering. We don’t want them there. We want rid of
them. Do you have a problem with that?’
The Icelanders looked
at one another in silent astonishment.
‘Do you have a
problem with that?’ Wesson repeated.
‘We have no authority
over the rescue team,’ the prime minister replied. ‘We can’t simply
order them to stop. In any case, I gather they were already on the
glacier before our last meeting. If you had given us sufficient
warning about your intentions we could have closed the area to all
traffic. But as you didn’t see fit
to . . .’
‘Then we can’t be
held accountable for their welfare,’ the general interrupted. ‘I’m
sure they’d think twice if they received a call from the prime
minister.’
‘I suggest you take
care who you threaten, General,’ the prime minister said in an even
tone. ‘One man has died on the glacier, another is critically
injured, so please don’t insult me by saying that it has nothing to
do with you.’
‘May I remind you,
Prime Minister, that a sizeable percentage of this country’s gross
national income derives either directly or indirectly from us.’ The
general spoke in the same flat, emotionless tone, his face
impassive.
‘I don’t think this
meeting is going anywhere,’ the prime minister said, rising to his
feet. ‘We’ll be issuing a formal protest about this matter and
demanding a thorough public investigation, both here and in
America, into the accident involving the two rescue team members.
We will close all roads between the glacier and the base until we
have full and accurate disclosure about what is going on out there.
We’ll apprise the media of the situation and you can imagine how
they will apportion the blame. I will address the nation
personally. You can talk all you like about percentages. Good day.’
Gathering up his papers from the table, he replaced them in his
briefcase and closed it with a snap. The justice minister followed
his example.
‘There’s a bomb on
the glacier,’ the general said, unmoved, his gaze still fixed
directly ahead. ‘You should call the team home, if only for their
own sake.’
‘A bomb? What do you
mean, a bomb? What kind of bomb?’
‘The kind that
explodes. It’s German and it’s old and we’re trying to remove it
but it’s a delicate operation. We have experts on site, our best
men, but the rescue team is in danger. You have the power to stop
them, thereby preventing a potential catastrophe.’
‘There’s a bomb on
board the plane? What do you mean by German?’
‘The German
scientists brought it with them. We believe we are dealing with a
primitive hydrogen bomb.’
The prime minister
was struck dumb; he could hardly believe he was hearing
this.
‘It’s our first
broken arrow,’ the admiral added. ‘We call them broken arrows, the
nuclear weapons lost in air crashes or through other accidents.
There are a small number scattered here and there around the globe
and you will understand that we go to considerable lengths to
control information about them. But the first, Prime Minister, is
on Vatnajökull.’
‘And it’s still live
and extremely dangerous,’ Wesson added.