bird, his shotgun slung carelessly over his shoulder and saw Evan cast another uneasy glance toward the west where an even darker patch of gray sky now loomed.

“Let’s try to finish this one quickly and get back out of here,” Evan said, his shoulders held stiffly against the wind which was beginning to pick up. The three men got busy with the equipment and began the procedure of extracting the ice core sample while Max loaded his shotgun and calmly began scanning the horizon.

“Aren’t you going to use binoculars?” asked Ted. In his late forties, Ted was the oldest of the bunch, and already graying at the temples. In Max’s opinion, besides being a know-it-all, Ted worried too much, especially about things which were none of his business.

“Nah,” said Max, not deigning to glance in Ted’s direction. “We ain’t seen a single one of them in all the times I’ve been out here. Don’t see why one of ’em would show up now.”

Ted and Evan exchanged uneasy looks, but neither said anything. Max was the one with the shotgun. Besides, they needed to concentrate on the task at hand.

As they worked, Max paced around the men, walking slowly in a circle and scanning the horizon. There was nothing but gray on all sides. Occasionally he would stop and watch the men for a while. The noisy drill was steadily spewing up tiny bits and chunks of shredded ice which formed a growing mound that would have been quite nice for snow cones.

The drill shaft had disappeared fairly soon after drilling had begun, and now just the cable could be seen, snaking over and into the ever deepening hole. After a few minutes Max would begin pacing again, stopping every now and then to look at the storm and gauge its progression. Gusts of wind were increasing in frequency, but the menacing dark clouds looked like they would indeed not make their appearance until later in the afternoon.

After about an hour, Brian signaled that the drill had reached the location from which they wanted to extract the core sample, and they began the reverse drilling operations to bring it up to the surface. The first few times Max had seen an ice-core being extracted, he had been quite interested. They had removed the long pole-like structure, thinner than his wrist, and wrapped it carefully and quickly, hermetically sealing it in one single chunk for later analysis. Once it was sealed in plastic, they would pack it in Styrofoam and packing bubbles to protect it. This was the most precarious part of the entire operation. The sample needed to remain intact in order for the lab techs back at the barracks to be able to analyze it properly. It was a delicate operation, but the men made it seem fairly easy. Max wasn’t fooled, though. Hunting had taught him that it took many months of practice before things looked easy.

The men worked for another fifty minutes to bring the sample up. As the drill bore finally re-appeared, everyone, including Max, watched in fascination. They lowered the shaft slightly and began to gently eject the sample from the inner casing of the drill. First the tip, then agonizingly slowly, the rest of the crystalline core sample began to gently slide out as the men waited, plastic bag and Styrofoam at the ready. The roar came at the worst possible moment, just as the last part of the ice-core sample had emerged into the air.

Max’s heart raced as he cocked his shotgun and whirled toward the sound. He sighted his prey and immediately took aim, but he didn’t pull the trigger yet. He had hoped and dreamed of just such a moment for so many weeks. Now his pent-up adrenaline raced through his veins. He took a deep breath, steadying himself.

The bear stopped advancing and reared up on its hind legs. It was an enormous beast, all the more fearsome as it towered over them, its keen black eyes now more than twelve feet above the ice. Slowly swiveling its head, the bear surveyed the group, as if pondering which one of the men it should attack first. Honing in on Brian, clearly the smallest of the crew members, it flared its nostrils and opened its large mouth in a rumbling growl, revealing four long incisors, each capable of inflicting mortal wounds.

Max followed the bear’s gaze and saw Brian, who had been reaching for the fragile ice core sample to wrap it in the plastic bag, flinch violently at the sound of the menacing growl, and then lose his purchase on a slick patch of ice.

All of the Arctic workers had undergone long hours of safety training in case of bear attacks, which had included pictures of bears. But, from experience, Max knew there simply was no substitute for having the live, hulking animal, right there.

Trying to recover his balance, Brian staggered forward, flailing wildly with his arms. Both Evan and Ted tried to catch Brian as he tottered, but their thick suits and the slippery ice made them clumsy. Before they could catch him, Brian slammed into the ice core sample which had been hanging perilously on the edge of the drill shaft. The plug of ice broke free and clattered to the ground unceremoniously, fracturing and sending splinters of ice, like tiny darts, into the exposed faces of the men.

“What are you waiting for? Shoot it!” Ted yelled at Max.

Max, however, paused for another moment. It was one of the greatest moments of his life and he was relishing the inimitable experience. The bear got back down on all four legs and began loping toward the men. Max’s entire body tingled as he tracked it. Then, in one swift motion, he pulled the trigger and shot several times, sending four quivering darts into the flesh of the white bear. He felt a momentary pang of regret that he was not using real bullets, but he would still have a good story to tell his peers when he got back to Texas.

As he watched the big animal topple clumsily down onto the ice, the skin on the back of Max’s neck pricked up, a hunter’s sixth sense, and he whirled in time to see a second bear bounding toward the group of men. It was about forty five degrees to the right of the one that was still struggling, shaking its head as if bewildered.

“Get down,” Max barked at his companions, taking a few quick steps to position himself between the bear and the other men. He cocked his shotgun, more thrilled than afraid, and ignoring the frightened howls of his companions, he fired three times. The injections hit the big animal squarely on the shoulder, side and hip. The bear’s pace did not seem to slow. Max stood his ground, firing several more well-placed shots. He knew that the amount of tranquilizer in each dart was more than enough to kill a man, and that their combined force would soon immobilize the bear.

The colossal mass of white fur, saber claws and sharp teeth swerved and slipped as it finally went down, then skidded, reaching out its large paw to swipe at Max. The claws of the giant animal rasped against Max’s leg and tore at his suit, even as the bear’s eyes rolled skyward and its head struck the ice with a large thump. Thirty feet away, the first bear also lay unconscious.

Max quickly scanned the horizon, turning his head carefully to his left in a full circle to ascertain that there were no other surprises lurking. All was clear.

He bent over and casually inspected his pants. They were torn in several places, but no further harm had been done. Then he turned and registered that his companions were cursing, and that the ice core sample lay shattered in six or seven large chunks.

“Let’s take it anyway,” shouted Evan. The winds were beginning to blow even harder, and white crystals, pieces of shattered core as well as blowing snow, covered all of the men, dusting their hair, faces and bright coats. With gloved hands and hunched backs they scooped up the lopsided cylindrical chunks of ice and placed them in the bag. They did not bother with the Styrofoam or packing bubbles as there was no longer any need to take precautions not to break it.

“Let’s get out of here,” yelled Evan and soon they had mounted the helicopter and were on their way back to the camp.

“What the hell happened?” demanded Ted as soon as they were in the air. The storm was definitely closer now, and everyone was obviously nervous to get back to the shelter of their barracks as soon as possible.

“What?” said Max, vexed that none of them, not even Brian, had thanked him for saving their lives. And now here was Ted interrogating him. Well, he certainly wasn’t going to let some old dude tell him how he should have handled the situation. He was the only one who had kept his cool in the face of danger instead of panicking like sissies.

Ted rolled his eyes. “The bears, man, what the hell was that about?”

Max shrugged. It was clear that Ted was just being a nervous worrywart again. Perhaps that was why he had so much gray hair even though he wasn’t fifty years old yet.

The adrenaline from Max’s encounter with the polar bears had dissipated quickly. That was the trouble with hunting. It used to be that a good kill would create a euphoria that would last for the rest of the day. Now he got about ten minutes of that high feeling, and soon he was completely back to normal. He wondered if it was because he had been hunting for so long, or if it was an age thing, yet one more trick his older body had learned to play on him. Or perhaps it was because, deep down, he knew he had not actually killed the bears, only immobilized them temporarily.

“Why did you take so long to shoot them?” snapped Ted, his jaw flexing.

Max shot him a dirty look. “I didn’t take that long. Y’all were never in any real danger. I wanted to be sure the big guy got close enough that I could get him good. And I did.”

“And the second bear?” asked Evan.

Great. They were ganging up on him now. Well, bring it on, thought Max. He could handle these wimps. He looked straight ahead and shrugged again. “What of it? I got him good too, didn’t I?” Then he turned back toward the window, angling his shoulder as a barrier against the other men.

Ted looked at Evan who, almost imperceptibly, shook his head. Then, after quickly glancing in his mirror to be sure that Max wasn’t looking, Evan held his hand slightly aloft, as if supporting an invisible pen. Ted gave a single nod. They would write up Max’s behavior when they returned to the barracks.

Brian flushed as he observed the interaction, feeling a pang of guilt for not intervening on behalf of his friend. After all, Max was doing his job as he understood it. And polar bears were incredibly difficult to spot since their fur was as translucent as ice. So it wasn’t that surprising that the bears had snuck up on them.

Then the memory of the gargantuan bears, the first of which seemed to have locked eyes with him, came crashing back, paralyzing him once again with fear. Maybe it wasn’t Max’s fault for not descrying the bears sooner, but he really had erred in not shooting them earlier. Brian’s eyes drifted to the window where they became snagged in the ponderous clouds and escalating winds that blew away the last vestiges of his contrition.

Back in the barracks, the men doffed their outerwear and dried off. A few minutes later Evan radioed mission control to report the incident, as Riesigoil protocol dictated.

“Two bears? That’s highly unusual,” said the static-filled voice of their supervisor.

She said something else after that, but after a few seconds of loud crackling sounds, the connection was lost. The storm that had been brewing on the horizon for the last several hours, growing ever larger and darker, now sank its fangs into the land. For two solid days the incessant winds howled and hail and snow