by Ben Hammott
Ice Rift - Siberia
Ben Hammott
Copyright 2018 ©Ben Hammott
No part of this publication may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any other information storage and retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the written permission of the copyright holders.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Author can be contacted at: [email protected]
www.benhammottbooks.com
Cover Design by Robert Ryminiecki
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Ice Rift - Siberia
ICE RIFT & ICE RIFT - SALVAGE
CHAPTER 1 | The Kamera - Siberia
CHAPTER 2 | Alien Weapon Test
CHAPTER 3 | Growing Pains
CHAPTER 4 | dEV1Lish
CHAPTER 5 | dEV1Lry
CHAPTER 6 | dEV1Lize
CHAPTER 7 | The New Plan
CHAPTER 8 | EV1Ldoings
CHAPTER 9 | Checkpoint Siberia 3
CHAPTER 10 | Welcome to Russia
CHAPTER 11 | bedEV1Led
CHAPTER 12 | Gateway to the Underworld
CHAPTER 13 | EV1Lution
CHAPTER 14 | Plea for Help
CHAPTER 15 | Abduction
CHAPTER 16 | Ingress
CHAPTER 17 | Krisztina
CHAPTER 18 | Level by Level
CHAPTER 19 | Early Delivery
CHAPTER 20 | Birthing Chamber
CHAPTER 21 | Hostage
CHAPTER 22 | dEV1Lkin
CHAPTER 23 | Rendezvous
CHAPTER 24 | dEV1Lment
CHAPTER 25 | Self-Destruct
CHAPTER 26 | Into Hell
CHAPTER 27 | Going Nuclear
CHAPTER 28 | EVAC
CHAPTER 29 | Detonation
CHAPTER 30 | Crash Landing
Factual Places and Events mentioned in Ice Rift - Siberia | Kamera or “the Chamber”
Discovery of Ice Age Cave Lions
HORROR ISLAND (Extract) | Where All Your Nightmares Come True
ICE RIFT – SIBERIA is the third book in the Ice Rift series and these need to be read first to gain maximum enjoyment from this novel.
ICE RIFT & ICE RIFT - SALVAGE
In Antarctica, everyone can hear you scream!
Something ancient dwells beneath the ice...
Humans have always looked to the stars for signs of Extraterrestrials.
They have been looking in the wrong place.
They are already here. Entombed beneath Antarctic ice for thousands of years.
The ice is melting and soon they will be free.
Book info and concept art
CHAPTER 1
The Kamera - Siberia
Three Russian KamAZ-53501 trucks rumbled through the gates held wide by two men and into the compound surrounded by a security fence topped with razor wire. Like a well-rehearsed ballet movement, the vehicles turned and reversed towards the largest building. With a loud hissing of airbrakes, they parked in a neat row. Men climbed out, and while some raised the shutters on the tailgates and climbed inside, two men headed for the entrance. The man spinning a key around his finger split off, unlocked the door to the smaller hut attached to the side of the main building, and went inside. The other man halted at the main building’s single door, and slipping a key card from his pocket, he stared at the dead lights on the key lock. He glanced alongside the building when the chugging of the backup generator spluttered to life, spurting dark diesel fumes from the exhaust protruding from the roof; the main generator lay inside, situated on the lowest level.
The man turned back to the key lock when it beeped. The small green light glowed, indicating it had power. The door buzzed when he inserted the card, releasing the electronic lock.
“Shall we start unloading, Director Stanislav?” asked comrade Saveliy.
Stanislav halted his pushing on the door and scowled at the man who had spoken before casting his annoyed glare at the men waiting at the rear of the vehicles with pallet trucks waiting to be loaded. “You should have already started.”
“Yes, sir.” Saveily turned away smartly and shouted. “What are you lazy sows waiting for? Start unloading.”
Stanislav entered the building and strode over to the doors of the elevator at the far end. He pressed the call button and stepped inside when they slid open. He pressed the down button and arrived on Level 1 of The Kamera a few moments later. He stepped out into the darkness and shivered from the coldness that greeted him; it seemed colder down here than outside. The air was musty, stale, from its long confinement. Aware the heating system would soon drive away the cold and the filtration system would cleanse both when they were switched on, he crossed to a small access panel set high in the wall and pulled it open. As the elevator doors closed behind him, reducing the sliver of light seeping from the elevator, he reached for the clunky power lever. Pitch blackness enveloped him when the doors met. The winch motor filled the silence when it hoisted the elevator above ground. Stanislav pulled down the lever. A flash of sparks lit up his face when the contacts engaged. Ceiling lights flickered on along the corridor as power infiltrated through the secret facility that had been abandoned many years ago to become a storeroom for Stalinist and cold war era documents.
The rumble of pallets being loaded into the elevator filtered down the shaft. They had a week to ten days to prepare the facility for the important and highly classified task Stanislav had been charged to oversee. As he strolled along the corridor, he glanced into rooms and made mental notes as to the purpose to which each would be assigned. He had been handed a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to impress his superiors and climb the ladder of success he craved. Nothing and no one would prevent him from succeeding.
ALMOST THREE WEEKS after leaving Antarctica, and a journey of 10,652 miles, (17,143 km) the Russian-owned ship the Spasatel Kuznetsov pulled into port. Before it had even attached its mooring lines to the dock, a truckload of soldiers appeared and lined the wharf. A few minutes later, a black car pulled alongside the quay and sat there ominously. When the ship had been moored and steps wheeled into place, two men climbed from the car and boarded the vessel.
Captain Brusilov, forewarned of their impending arrival, met them at the top of the rickety portable stairway and placed the two alien pistols on the foam padding lining the metal suitcase handcuffed to one of the men's wrist. Without a word being exchanged between them, the men turned away and headed down the steps. Before they stepped from the ship, a small black blob slithered unseen onto the suitcase-carrying man's black shoe and mimicked the shine of its polished patent leather.
Brusilov observed the men until they had climbed back into their car and driven away, before returning to his cabin. His eyes swept the line of soldiers along the wharf. There to ensure he and his crew didn’t disembark until they had all been debriefed and interrogated about the events that had unfolded during their salvage mission aboard the alien spaceship. Only then would it be decided if their mission had been a success or a failure. The outcome of that decision would determine if they received praise or punishment.
THE TWO MEN IN THE black car—and their precious cargo—had a long journey ahead of them. Swapping charge of the briefcase when each took a turn at the wheel while the other rested, they only stopped to refuel, go toilet and grab something to eat as they drove.
After a drive that lasted four days, the car turned onto a small roa
d that stretched into the cold, desolate Siberian tundra. After traveling for a few hours along the bumpy potholed road badly in need of maintenance, they halted at the first of the three checkpoints stationed with armed guards along the road's two-hundred-and-fifty-mile route. After a guard had scrutinized their credentials and confirmed the photographs matched the identities of the two men in the car, he handed the papers back and lazily raised an arm at his comrade beside the barrier. The guard raised the pole wound with razor wire and waved them through to continue their journey along the remote, lonely road few had traveled.
At the road's end, the driver steered the car through the gates of the security-fenced compound and pulled to a stop alongside a small cluster of unassuming agricultural buildings. The man with the suitcase handcuffed to his wrist climbed out, shivered from the biting wind that assaulted him and gazed up at the dark clouds skidding across a foreboding gloom-washed sky as he crossed to the door. He stared at the camera focused on him until a buzzing signaled the lock’s release. He entered, crossed the vacant room and pressed the button set beside the elevator doors. He stepped inside, and as soon as the door closed, the elevator carried him deep below ground.
The man stepped out onto Level 1 and was greeted by a scientist wearing a white coat.
“We thought you were never coming,” said Vadim. “We’re excited to get started on the project.”
Vadim dragged his eyes away from the man’s stone-faced expression, which unnerved him a little, and focused on the suitcase chained to the man’s wrist. Inside was what they had all been waiting for. “Follow me.”
Vadim led the man along the drab gray-painted corridor, and after a couple of turns, they entered a brightly lit workroom where a group of white-clad scientists specializing in various fields of expertise relevant to their assigned tasks waited to receive the precious cargo.
The man placed the suitcase gently on the table they were gathered around, released the shackle from his wrist and unlocked the case before stepping back. The scientists stared excitedly at the alien weapons before one of them removed one from the case. As they huddled around the weapons, pointing at various details and giving their opinions as to what might be their functions, the man, his mission completed, headed for the exit.
THE BLACK BLOB, THE only surviving piece of EV1L, slid from the man's shoe, slithered across the room and hid in shadow while it surveyed its new, pleasantly warm surroundings.
LUKA KUPETSKY, THE animal experimentation controller, cook, and maintenance technician, or general dogsbody as he would label his role, stared at the exterior camera feed on the CCTV monitor as he watched the two men who had just arrived drive away. He had been stuck in the security room for three boring hours waiting for them to arrive. As soon as they had passed through the compound gates, he pressed the button to close them, rose from the chair and headed along the corridor.
Aware the scientists, who had also been waiting for the men, would be occupied for a while with whatever had been delivered, Luka decided it would be the perfect time to indulge in a much-needed treat, but first, he needed to collect a friend to share it with.
Ten minutes later, Luka peered through the small glass panel set in the door of one of the science rooms. Satisfied it was unoccupied, he entered and switched on the lights. As fluorescent tubes stuttered into life the length of the room, a chimpanzee followed him through the door.
“Shut the door, Boris,” instructed Luka softly.
The chimp Luka had befriended and named closed the door gently and followed his human friend.
Luka halted at the first workbench and from his pocket pulled out two metal forks, a flip-top lighter adorned with a skull, a jar of chocolate spread and a bag of pink and white marshmallows, which he dangled enticingly in front of Boris’s face when the chimp jumped onto the workbench. He yanked them from the chimp’s reach when he grabbed at them.
Luka waved a finger. “Not yet, Boris, you know the drill.”
Boris chattered his lips in reply.
“I’m going as quick as I can.”
Luka opened the bag and breathed in the rush of escaping sweetness previously trapped inside. He placed them out of Boris’s reach, picked up the lighter and looked at his impatient comrade.
“Gas please, Boris.”
Boris turned the small tap set into the worktop.
Luka flicked his lighter and touched the flame to the tip of the Bunsen burner. The hissing gas whooshed into flame.
As Luka adjusted the flame to the desired heat, Boris picked up a fork and held it out expectantly. Luka fished a plump pink marshmallow from the bag and slid it onto the prongs. Boris wasted no time bathing it in the flame. Luka unscrewed the jar of chocolate spread and placed it between them before skewering a marshmallow on his fork and turning it in the flame.
The smell of toasting sweetness filtered through the room.
Boris took his treat from the flame and examined the browned, smoking morsel of deliciousness. Deciding it was ready, he plunged it into the jar and shoved the chocolate-covered treat into his mouth.
Luka smiled at the satisfied look on the chimp’s face.
They had been together for a little over two years now. When the chimp had arrived with five others at his previous laboratory posting, he had realized immediately that this primate was special. They had instantly bonded, and Boris soon proved his intelligence and quick learning ability. To safeguard him against the experiments carried out on the other animals under his care, Luka had falsified an official document reporting that Live Specimen 829PRI was part of an ongoing experiment being carried out by the Experimental Resources Department (ERD) attached to the Defense Ministry. Though ERD was something Luka had invented, there were so many secret organizations in Russia it was impossible to keep track of them all, and few would dare pry too closely and bring unwanted attention upon themselves. The signature he had forged on the document also helped to safeguard his deception. It was of a well-known high-ranking official, someone few would argue with. Assigning himself as guardian and overseer of the ongoing experiment no one was aware of, Luka had been able to include Boris in the list of animals he had been ordered to bring to the remote secret facility.
“How tasty is that, Boris?”
Boris tilted his head, curled his lips back and let out a series of hoots to show his pleasure.
“Shush! You’ll get us caught. You know we’re not allowed in here.”
Boris complied and held out a hand. Luka gave him another marshmallow and smiled as Boris speared it with the fork and held it in the flame. Boris was a quick learner and one of his only two real friends down here. He pulled his toasted indulgence from the flame, dipped it into the chocolate, placed it in his mouth and sighed with pleasure.
EV1L NEEDED TO REGAIN its strength and grow. To achieve that it needed to feed on something living. But before it could do that it needed to rest and recover from its ordeal. Its metabolism had been thrown into disarray by the explosion that had almost destroyed it. The warm environment it had been brought to was ideal for the purpose.
EV1L ignored the seven, white-clad humans it couldn’t absorb in its present state and directed its senses around the room in search of an exit. Its attention focused on a vent high in the end wall. Keeping to the edge of the wall, it flowed to the far end of the room and slithered like black mercury up to the slatted grille. It oozed into the vent and headed along the small metal tunnel. Washed by the warm draft blowing through the vent, EV1L hung from the ceiling. It achieved a state of hibernation and rested.
CHAPTER 2
Alien Weapon Test
TO FIND OUT HOW THEY worked, what they were made of and the nature of the power source, the scientific team spent the following two weeks methodically running a battery of non-invasive tests on the pistols. They were swabbed for alien containments, tested for radiation leakage, X-rayed, weighed, measured, photographed from all angles and scanned by laser for a 3D computer model. The latest technology they used
to discover the makeup of the outer shell was a Micro X-ray fluorescence (micro-XRF) spectroscopy, a non-invasive technique that wouldn’t affect the pistol. It had only been delivered to the facility the day before.
The outer shell, which seemed to have been molded around the inner workings as there were no joints or fixings anywhere over its smooth, hard surface, was, as far as they could tell, a type of tough composite plastic that wasn’t too dissimilar to that used in various earthbound manufacturing processes.
When the team felt they had done all the non-invasive tests they could with the available technology the facility had to offer, they made their report to Director Stanislav Volosheninov, the man tasked to oversee the investigation and the current head of the facility.
After reading through the reports, Stanislav penned his own and phoned his superior at the Kremlin to inform him of their progress and request permission to test the weapon’s firepower before they dismantled one. After a delay of two hours, which was rapid for the Russian hierarchy, his Kremlin contact rang with permission to proceed.
Keen to test the weapons, the scientific team tasked with reverse engineering the alien weapon followed Director Stanislav and the alien pistol he carried from the room. Two floors below their workroom, they entered a long room set up as a test firing range.
The expectant group gathered around the table set a short distance from the door they entered through and glanced at the three, simple life-size human-shaped targets positioned at the far end of the room.
Krisztina Zolushka, the team’s technical expert, moved to each of the two video cameras set on tripods, switched them on and set them to record. One focused on the targets, and the other would provide a wide shot of the room that also took in the scientists.
Director Stanislav switched on the weapon. Their previous examinations and the reading of the report Captain Brusilov had made about the use of the weapon, led them to believe the dial on the side altered the power of the light ball it fired. Starting with the lowest setting, he aimed at the target and pulled the button trigger.