winter in greenland

It was past midnight when August came back. Dan did not rest, but sat at the door of the tent, still writing and drawing with that little notebook, while Rogers lay at his feet.The faint light of the stove flickered behind them, casting vague shadows on the snow.

Rogers was the first to hear the movement, and stood up suddenly from Dan's feet, facing the rear of the camp, pacing back and forth non-stop, barking a few times, his voice full of anxiety.

Dan was taken aback by it, and stood up immediately, and the somewhat worn notebook slipped from his lap and fell to the side.

There was a faint smell of blood in the air, and Rogers didn't need to warn him at all.In the darkness, a vague figure walked down the snowy slope behind the camp.

"August?" Dan took a few steps forward and called out in a low voice with some uncertainty.

The person who came responded, and as he walked forward, the smell of blood in the air became more intense.It wasn't until he walked into the light of the tent that Dan realized that the winter clothing on his body was gone, and there was a gash on his right arm, which ran almost from the shoulder to the forearm.The camouflage pattern on his body was stained with blood, and his cheeks were also stained with blood, only a pair of eyes were surprisingly bright.

"Are you injured?" Dan's pupils tightened suddenly: "Where are those people?"

A rare smile appeared on August's face, which was a bit sinister and mixed with a hint of relief: "It's all dealt with. The local Greenland coast guard will come after dawn, and I'll be back first."

Dan held his injured arm. "The Coast Guard you radioed? Have you sent supplies? We only have some emergency medicine on hand. You can only treat this wound temporarily."

August nodded: "Don't worry, it's just a small injury."

Dan turned around and rummaged through the pile of supplies, and simply said: "You go to the tent to rest first, and I'll find something to bandage you."

From an angle that August could not see, his hands trembled slightly, and he could hardly pull the zipper of the canvas bag. His heart was full of annoyance and fear: No matter how strong August was, he was only a person. How could he think that he Can you fight alone with a group of poachers and get back unscathed?Fortunately, it was just a cut on the arm, without hurting the artery. What if those people shot?If he waited until he heard the gunshot, it might be too late for anything.

In the tent, August gritted his teeth and tore off the sleeve of his right arm. Under the cold temperature, the cloth had already mixed with the flesh and blood in the wound, revealing a frightening black color under the firelight.There was a rustling sound outside, probably Dan looking for the emergency medicine kit.

The weapons of the group of poachers are all added with "materials", in order to reduce their resistance and struggle when they hit their prey.He had randomly pulled a piece of rope that was originally used to fix the tent and tied it to the wound near the shoulder to slow down the flow of blood and to return to the camp soberly.At this moment, knowing that there are reliable teammates by his side, he can finally let out the breath he has been carrying all along.He looked in the direction of the entrance of the tent, frowned and untied the rope, moved his numb right arm slightly, and didn't resist when the next wave of anesthetics hit, closed his eyes and leaned on Dan's sleeping bag. On, fell into a deep sleep.

two hours ago.

It was completely dark, and August hid behind a raised rock at the foot of the hill.He has been waiting here for nearly 4 hours, and the sky has completely darkened. Tonight is also a sunny day. The endless starlight is sprinkled on the snow field, and the earth has turned into a piece of dark blue and white.

The group of people set up a stove in the middle of the three tents, and the firewood was crackling. Maybe it was a good harvest during the day, and bursts of laughter came to his position from time to time.

There were 5 of them in total. August had dealt with poachers before, and he knew that they generally don't like to use firearms. They prefer the feeling of cold weapons piercing into the body of their prey. more difficult.Sitting in the middle seat was a short man with a sharp chin. He wore a brown wool cap on his head. There was a long and narrow scar below the brow bone, a few millimeters away from where the eyes were.

August would never forget this face even in his dreams, as if he had returned to that evening three years ago in a trance.

……

On the last day of summer, the setting sun was like blood, and the dark red light covered the earth.

Several helicopters were parked on the ice shelf, and 4 or 5 coast guards in uniform were talking in low voices. The hatch of one of the helicopters was ajar, and 4 people could be seen lying on the ground stumbling around.

He exchanged a few words with a lieutenant from the coast guard, then turned around and walked to the periphery, where Arthur stood there with a pale face.

"Although one escaped, the mission was still considered complete. These people will be sent to Copenhagen later. Judging from the seized materials, the 20-year sentence is not escaped."

Arthur didn't answer, just nodded.

August noticed his strangeness, frowned and looked at him for a while: "Are you okay?"

Arthur forced a smile: "I'm fine. But it seems that the person who ran away is their boss?"

August shrugged: "It doesn't matter. I heard from the coast guard that these people are habitual offenders. They are very familiar with their behavior, so they slipped away from them many times. It was hard to catch them today. It is estimated that this area will be peaceful for a while.”

Arthur nodded but said nothing.

August looked in a good mood, and patted Arthur on the shoulder: "You have done a great job this time. If it weren't for your radio tracking equipment, the Coast Guard would not have been able to find their location so quickly."

Arthur staggered a step, as if shaken by being photographed: "Originally, this technology is still in the experimental stage. This time they cooperated with us, which can be regarded as providing us with a test opportunity. After returning to the base, we still have some data." To fix."

"Following them without sleep for 3 days, I will give you a day off when I go back, and the data correction will be done slowly. Anyway, the data fluctuations of the past few days have been backed up by the computer, so there is no rush. Let's go, the helicopter is waiting over there. , It’s almost time to go back.” August said and turned around.

The helicopter carrying those poachers was right in front of him. When he passed by the helicopter, a bearded man near the hatch stared at him for a few seconds, and a vague laugh came out of his throat. Voice.

August didn't intend to talk to him, he didn't even wink at him, he turned his head and planned to go around.

The man saw his intention and shouted something in his direction.

August's Inuit language is not very fluent, and he can only distinguish a few words in it. He frowned, and casually asked a police officer next to him: "What is he shouting?"

Seeing this, the bearded man laughed a few more times, looking at them with provocative eyes.

The police officer walked over and kicked him in the ribs, and said, "Shut up!"

The bearded man curled up in pain, but his eyes were still fixed on August's direction, and he muttered another series of words.

The police officer listened intently for a while, his face became a little nervous, he turned to look at August: "Captain, are your people not injured?"

August became alert: "No, what's wrong?"

The police officer explained: "Nothing is fine. These poachers usually apply a kind of nerve-like anesthetic to their harpoons or daggers. In most cases, even if they accidentally injure someone, there will be no particularly serious consequences. But according to this person, some alkaloids were mixed in their anesthetic this time. We don’t know the ingredients. If anyone is injured, they have to be sent to the hospital at the headquarters for examination. If there are no injured people on your side, I have to check the others."

August nodded, watching the officer turn and walk away.

Because of Big Beard's words, a tense atmosphere quickly permeated the temporary camp, and everyone was busy checking themselves, for fear of minor wounds that they hadn't noticed before.

August looked around absently, feeling an inexplicable uneasiness in his heart.When he glanced at Arthur who was not far away, he suddenly stopped——

Arthur was standing five or six yards behind him, bent over his knees, his back so tense that every rise and fall of his back seemed to be extremely difficult.

August strode over: "Arthur? What's wrong with you?"

Arthur raised his head, frowned, but managed to force a smile: "I don't know, I suddenly feel a little out of breath."

August grabbed his wrist, and found a long and narrow wound on his right wrist near the heel of the palm. The wound was not deep, but the surrounding skin had already turned black and blue.

He felt that his heart was almost frozen: "How did this happen?"

Arthur was frightened by the terror in his tone, and thought hard: "I don't remember clearly, it seems that I was accidentally scratched by their harpoon or something when I was catching people just now."

August clenched his wrist tightly, turned his head and shouted at the group of coast guards: "Which helicopter can go right away?"

The lieutenant of the coast guard was alarmed by him, and ran over nervously, "What's going on?"

August simply said: "The injured is Arthur. I want a helicopter and fly to the headquarters hospital immediately."

The lieutenant quickly glanced around, pointed to the front right one and said, "There is still two-thirds of the A40 fuel tank, enough to fly back to the headquarters hospital, let's go."

August followed closely behind him, half-supporting Arthur into the helicopter.After placing Arthur in the seat and laying flat, he jumped out of the hatch, strode to the poachers' plane, pulled the beard out, and half-dragged and half-dragged onto their plane.

The afterglow of the setting sun shone in through the glass windows, casting an ominous red over the entire cabin.

Arthur was lying on the seat, almost semi-conscious, short of breath, and his face was as white as dead ashes.August knelt beside him, tore off his sleeves and tied Arthur's arms tightly, then rolled up his sleeves, lowered his head and approached the wound, and began to drink poisonous blood.

The lieutenant next to him knew it was too late, and couldn't bear to stop him. He didn't press his shoulder until he vomited the fifth or sixth mouthful of black blood: "Enough, Captain, it's useless for you to do this."

Arthur's limbs had already begun to twitch slightly, and the veins and veins on the arm bound by him clearly emerged from under the pale skin, almost as dark blue as black.

August turned around abruptly, and grabbed his bearded back: "What kind of poison are you using? Which alkaloid?"

The bearded man didn't understand what he said, but he guessed it by looking at his expression. The smile on the corner of his mouth widened and he said something in a low voice. August turned to look at the lieutenant. The lieutenant's face was a little ugly. He said in a very soft voice: "He said that they mixed at least two kinds of alkaloids, mixed with neurotoxins from jellyfish, and their leader personally prepared it. Even if we send the person to the hospital in time and have to prepare the serum... ……That's too late."

August's eyes were red, and he punched the bearded man on the cheek, growling: "Do you have serum? You must have serum, otherwise how would you detoxify if you accidentally hurt your own people? Where is the serum? Where is it?"

The bearded man turned his head and spat out the blood foam in his mouth. He looked at August full of mockery, and he shook his head very slowly.

Arthur was gone before they got back to Ferringa.

His eyes were wide open blankly, and dark and black blood foam kept overflowing from the corners of his lips. August half-kneeled beside him, his right hand was firmly grasped in his palm.

"Arthur? How are you feeling? We're almost at the hospital." His voice was so soft that he didn't want to scare the people in front of him.

After a few seconds, Arthur seemed to understand what he was talking about, turned his head very slowly, looked at him with a little slack, and said with difficulty: "It's useless...I know, August, no ……used."

August raised his hand to wipe away the blood froth gushing out of the corner of his mouth, feeling his heart being tightened: "Stop talking, sleep for a while, when you wake up, nothing will happen, you will be fine , I promise, I swear."

Arthur smiled lightly, and stubbornly did not close his eyes: "It seems that those data... I will never have a chance to correct them."

August almost choked up: "Don't say this, you will have a chance, you will be fine, you are still so young..."

Arthur's hand gripping him jerked, and the ends of his fingertips twitched suddenly.

August wrapped his hands in his palms, clenching them in vain.

"August...sir...I...I don't want to die...How can I...I haven't...I haven't..." His eyes focused on August, burning and desperate.

August could not utter a word.

"I have one last... one last... request, sir, can you...can you..." Arthur struggled to lift his upper body.

"Shh, Arthur, shhh, stop talking. Listen, listen to me, close your eyes and rest for a while, we'll be at the hospital soon." August wanted to hold him down.

Arthur didn't cooperate, he stubbornly wanted to raise his upper body to get closer to August, but in the end August had no choice but to lower his head and put his ear close to his lips.

A very low and light sentence spit out from his throat. Although it was vague, it was enough for people to understand the meaning.

August's body shook suddenly, and he looked at Arthur with some disbelief, as if a hole had been pierced through his chest, and the cold wind of tens of degrees below zero whizzed in, sweeping all his reason.