“The short one. The American.”
“Nah, we don’t remember her. You kept her close by so no one could talk to her.”
“Well, she’s headed down the road towards the facility.”
“So what? Let the guards deal with it.”
“Selene Grosjean is following her.”
Silence followed the pronouncement. Grosjean was the one beautiful woman they never, ever, made lewd jokes about. In an earlier era, the men would have crossed themselves.
“Maybe we shouldn’t get involved,” Ivan said.
“You know how that would end.”
“But the FSB…”
“I know. But I just can’t let her do it. Not to this girl. I’m sorry guys. How about this… anyone who prefers to stay out of this can get off now, no hard feelings. If the shit hits the fan, you can claim that you tried to stop me and I ordered you out of the car. You’ll be free and clear of any responsibility. Just let me know and I’ll let you off.”
Silence greeted his proposal. Max knew that none of the men would speak unless the others did first, so he forced the issue. “Ivan, you know what we’re getting into. I meant what I said about no hard feelings. This is my folly, not something you need to tag along in. Do you want off?”
“I’m with you to the end. Which is going to be bitter, but I’m with you.”
He got the same answer from each of the men. Loyalty ruled the day, albeit with a strong undercurrent of fatalism. They were convinced that they were going to die for this, of course.
Max smiled. “Spoken like true Russians, my friends.” He pulled a flask from his pocket, unscrewed the cap and took a pull. Then he passed it to Ivan in the passenger seat. “Here, taste some real vodka, made with water from Lake Lagoda. Not the crap you people drink in Moscow.”
Ivan took a long drink. “Tastes like dog piss,” he said, before passing it back.
“You would know,” Vasily said as he drank.
Round finished, the flask made its way back to Max who took a last pull before replacing it in his pocket.
The black car was just barely in sight up ahead. He didn’t want to get any closer because the witch woman—or her driver—would spot them.
***
Half an hour later, they pulled into the dirt lot for official vehicles located next to the main vehicle entrance and got out of the Tigr.
Max pointed a hundred meters further down the road to the service access, where Marianne had parked, and where Grosjean’s car was just pulling up. “She’s probably trying to see if the guard will let her in. I don’t think our friends in the black car will let them.”
“Speaking of which,” Vasily said, emerging from the guard post next to them where he’d gone to report their presence, “the guard isn’t here.”
“He probably crossed the road to take a piss,” Max replied, nodding towards the forest that began right beside the tarmac. “Might be better if we don’t waste time explaining ourselves. Let’s get moving.”
They hadn’t brought their rifles. None of them was in the habit of dressing for battle when they went to lunch on a sleepy summer afternoon, not even after a midmorning dinosaur hunt. But each of them had their handguns—newly assigned Lebedev PL-15s—and unless the witch woman had packed her car full of goons, that, plus the element of surprise should be enough to decide any unpleasantness in their favor.
They advanced slowly through the trees on the far side of the road, Ivan on point, trying to spot any lookouts. When he reached the place where the cars were parked, he turned back and signaled that the coast was clear.
“Do you see them?” Max asked.
Ivan pointed. Visible over the hood of the Lada Niva, a man, presumably the driver of the car, was looking at someone on the floor beneath him. Selene Grosjean, beside the man, had her attention on the same point. “They made the women kneel down,” Ivan whispered.
“Okay. We’ll go across behind them. Vasily, check the car for more men. I’ll lead.”
They ran silently across the road, weapons raised. If they were spotted, they could quickly take over the situation.
But their quarry wasn’t expecting company. As he crouched behind the car, Max heard Grosjean asking questions.
“Who sent you?”
And Marianne’s voice, full of fear, but also defiant. “My magazine sent me. I’m a journalist. After seeing a dinosaur attack in a lab, looking at the lab’s other properties in the area is a logical next step.”
“For your sake, I hope you’re lying, because if not, you have nothing of value to offer.” The woman paused. “And you really, really want to have something of value to offer me. Otherwise, I’ll just shoot you.”
“You wouldn’t dare. We’re international journalists.”
Selene’s laughter tinkled through the air. “Yes. International journalists who, not knowing that some parts of Russia can be dangerous, unwisely drove out into the countryside where they were accosted by drunken men, raped and murdered. You’d be surprised how little attention people will pay, especially since the government won’t have anything to deny because I won’t tell them. Now talk.”
“I told you the truth already,” Marianne replied. He could hear the desperation in the young woman’s voice.
“Yevgeny, kill the ugly one, please.”
Max jumped up from his concealment, raised his pistol and put a round into the back of Yevgeny’s head. He didn’t even think about it, just fired.
The man hadn’t even hit the ground when Max turned his pistol towards Selene. The woman turned, held his gaze for a second, then glared at the rest of his men. She calmly raised the cigarette she was holding to her mouth and took a long drag. Then she smiled. “Well, you boys have just fucked your lives up completely, haven’t you?”
“This is illegal,” Max said, feeling foolish even as the words left his mouth.
“Illegal is what I do. When I have your families pulled out of their beds in the middle of the night and tortured to death, that won’t be legal, either. But it will happen.”
“I don’t have a family.”
“Ah. But what about your men? Are they prepared to sacrifice their wives and children?”
The men behind him shuffled uncomfortably, but Max was certain they’d hold. Hopefully.
“You’re just giving me reasons to put a bullet between your eyes. What you just said to them applies equally to you.”
Grosjean laughed. “Angry like that… you remind me of someone. I wonder who it is.” She shrugged. “No matter. No one will believe I died accidentally. A lot of people would love for that to happen, but no one would be dumb enough to believe it. And Yevgeny here isn’t the kind of guy common criminals just ambush and murder. Not even to get to me.” She wriggled suggestively, an obscene image. “So they’ll investigate everything, starting with the bullets. I see you’re using the new fancy pistols… you should have thought it over a little more if you were planning on killing people. No one but you Spetsnaz boys are using those yet. And I assume you didn’t walk here, which means you’ve got a vehicle that can be traced. You’re dead if you kill me and dead if you don’t. In fact, the only chance you have of living through this is to convince me that I don’t want to have you disemboweled. That won’t be easy.”
She threw the cigarette butt over the chain-link fence that separated them from the complex and put her hands on her hips. “So go ahead. Shoot me if you dare.”
“I would do it just to make the world a better place,” Max replied. “But I won’t. Yuri, please check her for weapons. Vasily, there are restraints in the Tigr, please bring me a set. We’re taking her back with us.”
“Yes, sir.” The two men leapt into action.
Yuri soon produced a Makarov pistol and a stiletto and ordered Selene to sit down. She winked at him and said: “I haven’t been touched like that in ages. Do you mind if I smoke another?”
Vasily returned with a set of cable ties and they secured the woman’s wrists. “Aren’
t you going to do my legs, too? I’m a martial arts expert.”
“No. If it looks like you’ll try to kick us to death, we’ll just take a few steps back and kneecap you.”
That earned him a hard look. “I’m going to enjoy having you killed.”
“I strive to bring pleasure.”
He stepped out from behind the car and into Marianne’s line of sight. Her eyes registered surprise when she saw him. “You’re the guy from the lab.”
“Yes,” he replied, switching to English. “Are you all right? You can stand up now, you’re not in any more danger.” He helped the women to their feet.
Marianne’s companion was shaking. “I need to change my underwear,” she said.
“Maybe they’ll let you use a bathroom inside.”
“No. I’ll do it in the car.” Without ceremony, she disappeared into the Lada.
Max turned to Ivan. “The thing about the bathroom raises an interesting question. Why isn’t the guard here? We just shot a man ten meters from the gate and no one called the police or came out to see what’s going on.”
“The guard is probably hiding under his desk waiting for the coast to clear.”
“Go look. You too, Yuri.”
The little cabin door was unlocked. “Empty.”
“This one and the other one too. No guards? Damn, there’s something strange going on. This is a military installation, there should be people guarding the door.”
“Actually,” Selene chimed in, “it’s ours. But you’re right, there should be people here. Lots of people.”
“I’m going in,” he said. “Keep an eye on Grosjean. Don’t listen to anything she says.” Max paused. “No. We’d better all go in. Damn.”
Grosjean smiled. “Don’t trust your men not to cave?”
“No. I don’t trust you not to have some kind of seeking device on you, and I don’t want to leave them out in the open waiting for me. Hard to kill people inside a building from the air without also killing the person you’re trying to rescue.”
“Yeah, right,” Grosjean said.
“What about them?” Ivan asked, pointing to the reporter and her companion.
“I’m coming with you,” Marianne replied. Though she didn’t speak Russian, the meaning must have been perfectly clear.
“Out of the question,” Max retorted.
“Definitely in the question. I’m not going anywhere until someone explains to me why that bitch over there decided to try and kill us. And I feel a lot more comfortable when the guys with the guns are on our side.”
“I’m not sure whose side we’re on anymore. We might get you into more trouble, especially since Miss Grosjean over there…”
“You’re actually telling a reporter my name? Are you a complete idiot, soldier?”
“…has a reputation for disobeying orders and freelancing. So it’s possible that, while we have her in our custody, you would be able to get on a plane out of Russia.”
Marianne shook her head. “What if she isn’t working alone? What if they’re waiting for us at the hotel? No thanks.”
Max shrugged. “Fine. Come with us.”
“Soldier, what’s your name?” Selene said.
“I’ll tell you later,” Max replied.
“You’ll tell me now.”
“Fine, my name is Max. And that’s all you’ll get.”
“Max.” She rolled it around her tongue, thinking. “Are you sure we haven’t met before? Well, no matter. I want to say just one thing: if you allow an American reporter into that building over there, you will be shot for treason even if you get away with whatever you’re planning to do with me.”
Max smiled at her. “They can only shoot me once.”
***
Park Sun-Lee’s phone rang. “Yes, Mr. Buddha.” It was ridiculous to have to call the hacker that, but the guy was good, really good. Good enough that none of Park’s connections had managed to unearth his real identity. For all Park knew, it might be a woman.
All he knew for certain was that whoever the hacker was, the Electric Buddha wasn’t Russian.
“We’ve picked up the news item you asked me about.”
“Who ran it?” Park asked, hiding his delight. The Russians had clamped down fast, and he thought that the reporters might not have had time to get the piece out. Of course he had his own news article ready to go, but having it come from a major media outlet was much better.
“Update!”
“Perfect. Please amplify it. I want the full treatment—memes, social posts, the works. I want people to see this.”
“Yes. For the price I sent you?”
“Yes.” The Buddha was expensive, but Park had plenty of money. The important part was that it could never be traced back to him. “Let me know if we go over budget, though.”
“I never go over budget… Wait a second, I’m getting another alert. Caipi just published, too.”
“Good. Amplify that one as well.”
“Yes. I will call you if I need further instructions.” The Buddha hung up.
Park quickly called up his browser—internet lockdowns didn’t affect his satellite phone—and navigated to the Update! website.
He smiled. He was expecting a lurid story, maybe even a quick snapshot. But video? Who was this Marianne Caruso woman? He owed her a huge debt of gratitude.
Park’s advertising campaign was now well and truly underway. Soon, the entire world would know what was happening, and he could organize the press tour.
After that, it would be time to disappear for a while. The Russians were not going to be happy.
Chapter 3
The lobby was quite small. Just inside, a reception desk faced the glass. Like the guard post, it, too, was unmanned.
Max started to push the door closed and hesitated when he felt the heft. The normal-looking metal-and-glass door weighed a ton, like the concrete door to the bomb shelter at the base. He almost dismissed it as a faulty hinge or something, but some instinct stopped him. Upon further study, he realized the glass was a few centimeters thick and the lock consisted of big bolts more suitable for a vault.
“Armored,” he told Ivan, who was nearest. “I wonder who they think will attack this place.”
“If you knew what you were getting into, you wouldn’t ask such stupid questions,” Selene Grosjean said. “And you definitely wouldn’t bring an American in here to see it.”
“From what I know about you and Park Sun-Lee, nationality has little to do with anything.”
“We work for Moscow.”
“Ah, but who in Moscow? A lot of the soldiers at the base are beginning to wonder. Either way, one foreigner more or less will make little difference to this.” He looked around. “Besides, maybe this is for the best. That armor makes me think there should be guards here. Armed guards. The fact that they’re missing makes me think there’s something wrong that goes well beyond internal politics. I’m going to go in, and I won’t stop until we run into someone who can tell us what’s happening.”
“You should call your superiors. You’re making an enormous mistake.”
“We tried. Cell coverage is down. In fact, I can’t get my phone to respond at all.”
“That’s just because they run a scrambler here. Go five hundred meters in any direction and call for instructions. Trust me on this.”
“Trust you? I thought all you wanted was my head on a platter.”
“At least with me you’d know who was coming for you.”
“We’re going down that corridor. It would be helpful if you’d tell me what we’ll find.”
“I don’t actually know. Never been here before.”
“Why don’t I believe you?” Max said.
“Probably childhood trauma. Maybe a mother who didn’t love you or an older brother who abused you.”
Max turned away suddenly, but he couldn’t close his ears to her mocking tones. “Was it something I said?”
A long corridor, windowless but well-lit, s
tretched out before them, ending at a door. Offices opened up from the main corridor, some obviously in use, others completely sterile, and all empty of human presence.
“What kind of work do they do here?” he asked Grosjean.
“Telling you would be treason. I don’t want to be standing beside you when they shoot you.”
“You’re beginning to irritate me,” Max said. “I think something really serious is going on. Knowing what it is might help us deal with it.”
They reached the door. This one consisted of riveted metal armor, painted grey and much more aligned with his ideal of what a secure location should have. The door had a large dent in it… bulging it out from the inside.
To Max’s surprise, it opened as soon as he turned the handle.
They stepped through the door into a tropical wonderland.
Everyone ooh’d as they looked down over a sea of green illuminated from above by a glass roof larger than anything ever built over a sporting arena. Thick columns disguised as trees supported the vaulted transparencies. The vastness was more inferred than visible, as mist obscured everything more than fifty meters away. The humid air pasted clothes to skin.
“Are you sure we’re still in Russia?” Marianne asked, awed.
“Unless my government has some kind of science fiction portal, yes, I’m sure.” He turned to the witch woman and said, in English in deference to the reporter, “What is this place?”
“They call it the feeding ground,” Selene replied with a smirk.
“Why?”
“Oh, you’ll find out. You shouldn’t have let the door close.”
Max turned back and saw that the door had no handle on the inside, but only a keypad. “Tell me the code.”
Now the woman laughed. “I never come in here so I don’t need to know the code, and if there’s one thing you should know, it’s that ‘need to know’ is pretty much a religious concept in this place.”
“But it makes no sense. Why build this place so that just anyone can get in and no one can get out?”
“Because no one is worried about people getting in. That is a problem that takes care of itself. And as for no one getting out, there’s your mistake. It’s built that way so nothing can get out.”
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