by Michael Todd
“My name is Brigadier General Sebastian Petrov,” he said in very concise English when she took his hand.
“Dr. Courtney Monroe. Nice to meet you.” She withdrew her hand and rubbed it surreptitiously to restore the feeling he’d all but crushed out of it.
“Are you treating the sergeant?” Petrov asked.
“Oh…oh, no,” she said quickly. “I’m not that kind of doctor. I have a Ph.D. in biology. I was part of the team that helped to recover Sergeant Popov from the Zoo.”
“Ah, you have my thanks then, doctor,” the general said with a smile. “I’ve just spoken to your commandant about a reward to those responsible for rescuing our men from some very trying circumstances in that jungle.”
“Oh,” Courtney said with a smile. “That’s very generous of you. Although, if you put money in for me, I’d suggest putting it into the account of Heavy Metal…Incorporated? I think?”
“You work for a freelance company then?” Petrov asked and seemed surprised. “Of course, we can wire the payment to whichever account you prefer, but are you sure you want it run through corporate? This is a private reward, after all, for private actions.”
“Well, all the members of my team were involved in the rescue of your man here,” she explained with a smile. “Actually, a lot more than I was if the truth be told. It doesn’t seem fair that I get paid and they don’t.”
“Well, if you mean your compatriots Sergeant Madigan Kennedy and Dr. Salinger Jacobs—”
“He is not doctor,” Gregor said with a grin.
“Well, Mr. Salinger Jacobs then,” Petrov said and looked mildly confused. “They have already contacted the Russian base this morning. Well, last night, but we didn’t know it was them until this morning. They helped to rescue the rest of Sergeant Popov’s squad and brought them back to the base, so they will be adequately recompensed for their actions.” He added a few details of the Russian team’s experience for the patient’s benefit.
It had only been twenty-four hours, but she was relieved to know that Madigan and Sal were both still alive and well.
“Either way, I’d still like my payment to go through their corporate account first,” Courtney said.
“As you wish, Dr. Monroe.” Petrov nodded and studied her with new interest. “I have to say, you are one of the most trusting people I have met out here. It is quite…refreshing.”
“Well, I trust Kennedy and Jacobs,” Courtney said. “And I know that my trust will be rewarded.”
“As you say.” The general nodded before he turned back to Gregor. “The…medical doctors have told me that you will be released from their care in the afternoon. I will give you a ride back to the base in my helicopter once you are cleared for travel.”
“Thank you, General,” the patient said. The man saluted again, spun on his heel, and left the room.
“You guys spoke English for my benefit, didn’t you?” Courtney asked.
“Probably,” Gregor said with a nod.
“So, helicopter ride back to base, huh?” Courtney said with a smile. “That’s impressive.”
“Well, it pays to be good friends with the commandant’s son.” The Russian grinned with real humor. “Although I really hope that he is still alive. From the sound of things, it seems like Kennedy and Jacobs pulled them out of what you Americans call some…hot water?”
“So, if the son isn’t alive, could you head back to a court-martial or something?”
“That is a stereotype I do not appreciate. Even if it is true,” he responded with a chuckle. “But I am not worried. If there’s anyone to blame, it will be the damned mercs who left me there. Although I do understand why they wanted to leave since it seems that they needed to stay on the move due to the animal attacks, I suppose.”
Courtney smiled. “Well, I’ll leave you to your rest here. I need to go and get some food from the mess hall.”
“Do not miss me too much when I leave, Dr. Monroe,” Gregor said with a grin. “I know the look of desire in your eyes, but it would never work between us. I am happily married and could never be with another woman.”
“It’s tempting,” Courtney said with a laugh. “I’ll be a mess, but I think I’ll be able to move on one day. Feel better, Greg.”
“Is Gregor!” he called after her as she closed the door behind her.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Even after a trip of a few hours, Sal still wasn’t sure how they managed to get vehicles this deep into the Zoo. They didn’t appear to have anything special or which could indicate an advantage in the jungle conditions. The ride itself was bumpier than he was used to and he attributed it to the fact that the vehicles had been fitted with special tracks.
Even so, they’d arrived in the dark, and it was still difficult to tell if there was anything different about these beasts. Maybe, like with the flare, the Russians simply relied on low-tech solutions to the problems. He’d heard the story that had been passed around social media about how the US government had put millions of dollars into research so that they could have a specialized pen that worked in zero gravity for their astronauts during the cold war. The Russians, on the other hand, decided to solve the problem by giving their cosmonauts pencils.
It was complete bullshit, of course, the kind of thing that appealed to mass humor. He wasn’t sure if the Russians had actually done that, but the practical problem with taking pencils into space was that lead and wood shavings would get into their air filters and burn the shuttles into an early retirement.
While he had to concede he’d been too busy to properly research it and so had no reason to really believe it, there did seem to be a general trend when it came to the Russian military that gave the rumor some weight. He still didn’t entirely believe it, since they didn’t exactly have cosmonauts to spare back then, but they did seem to enjoy the low-tech, low-cost solutions to problems that his own people dropped millions into various attempts to solve.
It had taken most of the night for the vehicles to reach them in the Zoo. They had sensibly decided to remain in the location the flare had provided in its GPS signal. After a few more uncomfortable hours in the ponderous vehicles, they were finally out in the clear again.
It should have been difficult for him to actually sleep, but considering that he’d had less than eight hours of sleep over the past forty-eight, he nodded off despite the rough ride that they had to endure. When Kennedy punched him in his non-powered shoulder to wake him, sunlight streamed through the thick, round windows. Unimpeded light, he realized, with the kind of brightness that clearly indicated that it wasn’t filtered through layers and layers of foliage.
“We’re here,” she informed him and made sure that he was awake before she heaved herself out of the vehicle, which Sal realized was now empty except for him.
He stepped out as paramedics lifted Solaratov clear. He was still in the litter and seemed to be unconscious, but his color had definitely improved from the deathly pale face that Sal had seen last. The leg was bandaged by professionals this time, but it looked considerably less swollen than it had before.
“He’s doing much better,” Janko said as he stepped from behind Sal. “Whatever you did to him, Jacobs, it seems to have at least helped to keep him alive until we could get him back here. I have to tell you, saving him saved all our asses.”
He turned to the man questioningly. “How do you mean?”
“Well, Corporal Ivan Solaratov is the son of Commandant Ryen Solaratov, the man who hired us. He is not the most forgiving to men who get his children killed.”
“Does that sort of thing happen a lot around here?” he asked. “Commandants’ sons getting killed?”
“Well, no,” the man replied with a smirk. “But people court-martialed for pissing the commandant off happens frequently. I likely would have gotten a couple of weeks in the brig until my contract here is up, and it would not be renewed, which would leave me to find work out here in the middle of butt-fucking nowhere. But there’s always
a chance that something worse happens, I suppose.”
“Right,” Sal said. Way to live up to your stereotypes, Russia.
“Anyway, if you’ll follow me, I’ll help you and Kennedy to the mess hall where you guys can get some food if you’re nice to the guy who runs the place. Your other two team members have chosen to join a convoy that will leave shortly—unless you want to join them?”
When both Sal and Madigan shook their heads, he led them briskly to an area where they could strip out of their armor first. Sal was very thankful that he, unlike Gregor, was fully dressed when he emerged from his suit. For some reason, he was even happier that Kennedy was similarly dressed.
The mess hall was different in a lot of ways from the mess at the Staging Area. Not in bad ways, necessarily, merely different. It was very clear that two very different cultures were involved in the building of the two separate sites.
Either way, they were both military installations established to feed their personnel, which meant that the functions were essentially instinctive. Sal and Kennedy quickly filled up on beef stroganoff with beets, cabbage, and potatoes on the side, as well as small sips of the vodka that the man in charge of serving the food assured them was made not too far from where they currently stood.
The specialist didn’t know enough about the vodka distillation process to know if this was a good or bad thing, but he definitely intended to look into it. He wasn’t sure if the vodka was any good either, considering that he hadn’t been legally allowed to drink for that long and hadn’t experimented much, but Kennedy told him that it was very tasty and spouted words like smooth and lush and clear, which he took as a good sign. It could have been wood alcohol for all he knew—or even cared right then.
And dammit, it burned like wood alcohol all the way down to his stomach. He assumed that had been the case, though, as he didn’t actually taste the stuff beyond the burn.
They finished and sat and talked with some of the other men and women in the room who had heard about what they’d been through before a couple of men in uniform entered. They looked around, homed in on Kennedy, Sal, and Janko almost immediately, and weaved between the tables toward them.
“Oh, shit,” the South African said.
“Good morning.” The officer kept his tone and face pleasant. “Commandant Solaratov would like to speak to you.”
The three of them stood, but the man waved Janko off quickly. “Not you. Only the two newcomers.”
“Oh, right.” The man sat and looked distinctly relieved. “Good luck, you two.”
“Thanks.” Sal grinned and did his best to look unperturbed.
They exited the mess hall and approached a military vehicle that waited for them outside. Sal still didn’t feel like he’d had sufficient sleep to have a conversation with a very powerful man about how his son might die of snake venom from a giant locust with a scorpion’s tail.
No, he would never adjust to that startling image. Somehow, the new creature they’d encountered had his brain in a knot—he honestly didn’t want to hear or think about it, or even imagine it, for that matter.
They drove up to one of the largest buildings in the area and the officer led them inside. There was something different about the building, even though it followed the same basic structure as all the others, but for the life of him, Sal wasn’t sure what it was. It wasn’t the color or even the room placement. Merely…something that prickled at his consciousness.
They were directed into an office with a window that looked out into the Zoo, where a hefty, corpulent man sat behind a desk and watched a video on a social media feed.
“You actually have an internet connection here,” Sal said as he complied with a gesture that they should sit. “I can’t believe I’d actually say this, but I’m really very jealous about it.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment, Dr. Jacobs,” the man said with a grin.
“Not a doctor,” Sal and Kennedy said in unison.
“I—what?” he asked as the officer who had led them in backed out again quickly.
“It’s a long story,” Sal said, “but I’m actually a doctoral candidate, not an actual doctor.”
“Oh…well, then, Mr. Jacobs, and Sergeant Kennedy. I must thank you for taking the time to join me,” the man said with a pleasant smile as he turned the screen of his computer off.
“You’re very welcome…Commandant Solaratov, I presume?” Sal asked. “Did we have a choice?”
“Of course you did. There is no trouble,” the man said hastily with a smile. “Would you like something to drink?” He didn’t wait for them to answer but filled a trio of crystal glasses with a clear liquid from a matching decanter. Sal didn’t think that his guess that the liquid was vodka could be questioned. Their new Russian friends seemed determined to live up to the stereotypes.
Kennedy took her glass without any encouragement, and the commandant took his as well. Sal, who didn’t want to drink too much while he was there, was the last to raise the small glass.
“Za Zdarovje,” Solaratov Senior said with a grin before he downed the contents of the glass. Kennedy followed suit and Sal, again, was last. He winced as the stuff burned all the way down to his stomach. This time, he felt every inch of its journey. He gasped and his eyes bulged, and the man on the other side of the desk laughed with unbridled amusement.
“You are not a habitual drinker then, Mr. Jacobs?” Solaratov asked with a grin.
“True words,” he responded, his voice unusually hoarse.
“Now, with politeness out of the way, we move to business.” He opened a couple of paper files on his desk with a brisk movement. “Reports tell me that you first helped one of our officers, Sergeant Gregor Popov, as his suit was damaged and the man himself in need of medical assistance. Then you helped the rest of his team when they were attacked by the monsters inside the fucking jungle.”
“How do you already know about Gregor?” Sal asked.
“Well, we received a message from your Staging Area base about one of our soldiers who was recovered,” Solaratov said with a smile. “Part of your team abandoned your mission to help him return to civilization for medical treatment. We are deep in your debt, and we will be sure to compensate you all for the money that you might have made from your mission if you had not helped.”
“Well, we want to ensure that the relations between our two bases remain as cordial as possible,” Sal said smoothly. “If only because we’d like to think that if your people were faced with a similar situation, they would do the same.”
“Absolutely,” the commandant assured him. “Your gesture of good faith will not be forgotten, my friend. And now, we move on to you saving my son’s life. I know, as member of the military, I am not to show favorable treatment. But since I am personally grateful for your actions, I will reward your team most generously from my own private funds.”
Sal raised an eyebrow. “That’s…very magnanimous of you, Commandant.”
“You saved my son’s life,” Solaratov said, and his tone became grave. “The doctors tell me that he has improved so much that they may not even need to remove the leg. His foot might also be saved as well. I don’t know how you did it, and the men who saw what you did refuse to tell me how it happened—”
“It’s a proprietary recipe,” Sal interjected and smiled to take any possible slight out of the words. “We’re actually independent contractors and work from a very small startup, so our profit margins depend on things that we’ve developed personally during our time here.”
“I can respect this.” He nodded. “Either way, it will take a few hours for me to be able to withdraw my funds all the way out here, so I invite the two of you to spend some time with us. Living arrangements are being prepared, and you can spend the night. Your payment will be wired in the morning, and once that is in order, we will find way to escort you safely back to your base—or anywhere you want to go.”
“That’s…incredibly generous of you, Commandant,” Sal said
again and stood as the man pushed himself slowly from his office chair, which squeaked under the weight.
“Please,” he said and offered his hand for Sal and Kennedy to shake. “It is the least I can do. Now, get some rest. You will find your accommodations completely furnished and well suited for a short stay.”
“Thank you, Commandant,” Kennedy said and grinned as she rubbed hand. “If it’s not too much to ask, could you perhaps assist us to have our armor cleaned and repaired? The suits got a little banged up while we were out there.”
“Of course. We will have it handled immediately.”
The officer who had led them there waited outside the door when they exited. It seemed that he already knew where they were going and he simply directed them back to the vehicle. They complied and took a short drive to what Sal was surprised to see were a couple of small apartment buildings.
Actual buildings. With multiple stories and various apartments, not tiny little houses.
Although, once they had been taken to the second floor and the accommodation that had been provided for them, he realized it was extremely small. Even smaller than his place, as a matter of fact, but he was sure that wouldn’t be a problem. It wasn’t like they would stay there long.
“Dibs on the shower,” Kennedy said once the door closed behind them. Sal chuckled but allowed her to go first. He knew from experience that she still lived the life of a military woman in that she went the “navy shower” route that only lasted about five minutes. The whole building was plumbed to an ancient boiler system for hot water, so he could stand to be sweaty and sticky for five minutes more if it meant he would step into a piping-hot shower. He needed the kind that made you feel like all your troubles were burned away in righteous flame—or, in this case, scalding liquid.
While he waited, he set his pack down in the small living room-kitchen and used the time to inspect the food they had been supplied with. It wasn’t much and mostly the typical ration-type packages that would be found in any military installation. Everything had, of course, been dehydrated and efficiently packed.