Outcast (SEAL Team: Disavowed Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

men, but visibility was limited to about two feet in front of his face. He’d heard about guys dying in whiteout situations only to be found the next morning a few feet from their shelter. The stories were chilling. The reality provided a much-needed gut check.
    He turned back to the cat for rope. He tied one end around his waist. The other end, to the door handle.
    By this time, he’d dicked around long enough that his feet stung. A thousand tiny pinpricks made each step agony.
    Blowing snow burned his cheeks with cold fire.
    He trudged as far as the rope allowed, then fanned out until damn near falling over a body. Beyond relieved, he made fast work of removing the sorry bastard’s boots, then yanking off the plastic bags to shove his own feet into fleece-lined footwear heaven. The Sorel’s were so well-insulated they were still warm.
    The fit was snug, but Jasper wasn’t complaining.
    He repeated the search pattern on the vehicle’s opposite side until finding the other guy’s boots for Eden.
    Considering how many students and scientists these guys shared in killing, Jasper regretted giving them the luxury of meeting death in their sleep.
    Back behind the wheel, Jasper checked Eden to find her still out, but her breathing was regular.
    Aiming one heater vent at her and the other at his face, he allowed himself a few minutes to thaw. He’d been in a lot of bad spots, but none that he could recall where literally, the air killed. As cold as it was outside, they might as well be on the moon. The climate was that inhospitable.
    He needed to push forward, putting more distance between them and Leo’s crew, but where was he supposed to go?
    With the cat’s cab silent, wind howled beyond the safety of metal and glass. That safety was an illusion. Who needed bad guys when Mother Nature had turned into a frigid bitch?
    He reached for the dash-mounted GPS, but when he punched in McMurdo’s coordinates, all he got was a message reading: System Error .
    Frustration didn’t begin to cover his dour mood.
    He’d come down here expecting to encounter a lovable nerd herd. He’d expected Eden’s cryptic message to be about a petri dish massacre. During hours and hours of travel, he’d fantasized about wild, buck-naked bunkbed, make-up sex. This was supposed to have been a seriously good time, yet so far Antarctica sucked.
    For Jasper’s entire military career, he’d been trained to embrace the suck, but honestly? He was tired.
    He eased the cat into gear, then turned at a ninety-degree angle from their previous course. In whiteout conditions, it was risky to move at all, yet he didn’t feel comfortable returning to the station. He sure as hell didn’t want to end up facing Leo’s sub, but rolling off a cliff didn’t sound that great, either.
    He checked the fuel and found the tank three-quarters full.
    A cat this size probably had a range of at least a few hundred miles. What would be helpful to know was the size of the storm. How close were they to the back edge?
    With unlimited daylight, Jasper planned to drive at least another hour, then stop to rest and make a proper meal.
    The vehicle’s former occupants had been courteous enough to leave an iPhone attached to the stereo, so he slowed to glance through the playlists.
    “What sounds good, gorgeous?” A hopeful glance in Eden’s direction netted nothing but disappointment.
    Wake up, babe . We’ve got a lot of unfinished business to go over. What we shared was real. You had to have felt it, too, right?
    Even if she had, what gave him the right to act on those feelings? He couldn’t hide out in Antarctica forever, and he sure as hell couldn’t live with himself for ignoring his promise. The night his brother lost his wife, Jasper had sworn he’d never allow himself to even think about falling in love.
    Shaking his head as if that would help erase the memory of the awful night Mariah had died, Jasper focused on the here and now. Music. Something peaceful to wake