Day One Hundred and Twelve

Day 112: 21 Nov 2010

Finally got a hold of Dane today. He's back home, resting up from two broken legs. I told him about Vince.

"Did he go down shooting?" Dane asked.

"He did."

"That's how he would have wanted it, then. So they've released the. . ."

"The God of the Skies. I think so. And I think it's been talking to me."

"Interesting. There's some history to support that. I know the sea god talked to his people."

"He said Thule. Any idea what that means?"

"You Google it yet?"

"No," I said. "Haven't been near a computer for a few days."

"Give me a second," Dane said. I heard him typing on a keyboard. "Here we go. Thule, or Thyïlea. It's referred to in medieval maps as a 'region to the far north.'"

"So, the North Pole? Like, Santa and shit?"

"Well, in a more modern sense, could refer to Thule in Greenland. A US Air Force Base. About 700 miles North of the Arctic Circle. Not the friendliest place in the world."

Something clicked in my head, and I knew that was it.

"That's the place," I said. "I need to get up there. Could be my last chance to stop this."

"Vincent had a guy. This is the guy who got him weapons, choppers. That kind of stuff. I've never met him, but Vincent left me a way to contact him in case something ever happened to him. I'll call."

"Do you even know who this guy is?"

"Nope. Not by name. Vince said he worked out of Area 51, but that's all I know."

"You think he'll help us?"

"He's Vince's boss. I'm sure he will. Get back to Vegas -- I'll have it sorted by the time you land."