Perhaps my favorite book of all-time. It was so good that when the book ended, I cried. Not because it was a sad book, but because there was no more to read. Sappy, but true. ( )

Seconds ago the passengers were sitting in the cozy security of their pressurized cabin with a controlled temperature of 70°. Then the crash, the tearing, jagged screeching as the plane ripped along the ice and snow. The tidal wave of the dreadful cold, 40° below zero, swept in and engulfed the survivors-the dazed, the injured, the unconscious and the dying-as they sat in the crumpled wreckage of their seats, wearing only thin suits and dresses.
And so began the terrible arctic night, a night without end, where the darkness would bring with it murder and betrayal and cowardice. And the chilling knowledge that among them was a ruthless agent determined to carry out his desperate mission. -- From the web (http://www.geocities.com/SoHo/Den/706...)