Project - 16

by Martyn J. Pass

  “To get in and get the cure,” said Alex.

  “Then what? My men and I turn around and go home? Is that it?”

  “I don't understand...?”

  “Well I'm glad one of us does then.” He stirred sugar into the cup and added a splash of milk. “If I use my influence to gather enough forces to take this bunker - because my Government can't know about this action - then at the end I will take the cure and my daughter back to Moscow and together we will work to put this problem right. But what about you, Alex DuPont? What will you do when this is over?”

  “I love your daughter,” he said.

  “That is not what I asked.”

  “It's all I have. If she goes then I'll find a way to follow - I promise you that.”

  The General continued stirring. “We will discuss this further. What makes you think the cure is there?”

  Saska filled him in on the disc and the message from my Dad. Occasionally he'd look over at me and wait to see if I agreed with the account. I couldn't argue with it - Saska had an amazing memory.

  “I see. It makes some kind of sense at least,” he said. “It would also give us what we need to help our people and also allow us to 'aid' the struggling Americans on their own soil.” We knew what that meant and I was just glad Riley didn't react to it. It also meant we were on the verge of a Russian globe - a world the kids would colour in red.

  He drank his tea and smiled. “I may be able to muster enough forces to do this,” he said. “There are many Captains of submarines that owes me a favour or two.”

  “Why the secrecy?” asked Saska.

  “Because I am here for you, Saska, not for Russia. The Government knows nothing about where I am right now and who my staff and team are - they are volunteers, come to help me because I knew you needed me.”

  “Oh Papa,” said Saska, placing her small hand on his seemingly enormous one. He covered it with the other and smiled at her.

  “Anything for you, my darling.”

  We drank our tea and it reminded me of Piotr and his promise of a samavar. I'd miss the old man once this was all over.

  “We will rest today and I will set up the men in the grounds, reinforcing this stronghold. I will also dispatch some craft to search for the Revenant and perhaps even sink her in the process. Meanwhile I will call in as many favours as I can and begin to put a mission together. Perhaps, Riley, you will assist me in this given your recent contact with these mercenaries?”

  Riley appeared stunned by the offer but quickly recovered her calm. “Yes sir, I'd appreciate the chance to have another shot at them.” The General rose to his feet and we all followed like we were under his command. It was hard not to be.

  “Then I will see you later. I have much to do,” he said and left the canteen. Saska and Alex followed leaving Riley and me to clean up.

  “You'd seriously fight alongside them?” I asked her.

  “Why not? I was a Security Consultant for a long time and there were all sorts of soldiers out there that I had to work with. What makes these guys so different?”

  “Well, it's your call I guess. I just thought you might have wanted to pass on this one.” She collected the cups and took them to the sink, weighing her response.

  “I think I need to have one last action. One last shot at a real enemy before...”

  “Before what?” I asked.

  “Before I settle down with you. It's like I need to get it out of my system before I hang up the rifle and live with you. I'm not sure I can go home until I’ve done that. Do you understand?”

  “Of course I do, I guess I just didn't expect it to look like this. Do you think we're just going to go home and sit round the fire until we're old and grey or something?”

  “No, of course not, it's just-”

  “You do, don't you?” I said.

  “Well yes, I guess I do.”

  “I see.”

  “Don't say it like that,” she replied.

  “Like what?”

  “Like I just shit on your cornflakes. Tell me - what are we going to do when we get back?”

  “I hadn't really thought that far ahead. Fuck your brains out was first on the list. To tell you the truth that kind of dominated the schedule.”

  “I just don't want it to-” she began.

  “I know what you're thinking - you're back to what you said before - that you don't want to end up getting home and feeling different when the excitement and the danger have gone, when it's just you and me and a lot of empty land.” She nodded without looking at me. “Well that's what it means to be with me. It means we have to take each day as it comes no matter what and I can't promise there won't be a bit of down time where we have fuck all to do but sit in front of the fire with a bottle of wine and make love. If that's as bad as it gets then I'm okay with that.”

  “I am too!” she said. “I'm just scared, that's all.”

  “I get that and I get you, Claudia Riley, but we have to meet in the middle somewhere. You've been doing this for years now and maybe, though I don't like to admit it, you should be involved in this.”

  “You mean that?”

  “Yeah, I do. You wanted to go home and I wanted to see this thing through - well here's the price I'm having to pay. But once it's done we're going home. Do you understand?” Another nod. “After that, I'm sure life will have enough adventure for the both of us if we're willing to work at it. Don't you think?”

  “Yeah, I guess so,” she said. She put the cups down and put her arms around my neck. “I love you, Miller. I really fucking do.”

  “I love you too. We can make this work - but you have to trust me.”

  “I do.”

  “And you have to make sure you come back from this in one piece.”

  “I will.” I kissed her and felt her body pulse with pleasure. “Are we really going to do it in front of the fire?” she whispered in my ear.

  “Every Monday and twice on Fridays,” I said.

  “That's a little bit creepy. You're scheduling our lovemaking?”

  “Yeah, I see what you mean. Maybe on Tuesdays too.”

  The camp came to life quicker than we could have imagined. Tents were erected, equipment and vehicles were flown in and troops arrived by the score. It was clear that General Ibromavich had some clout in the ranks below him in order to command such a large voluntary force. It was also clear that the NSU military structure was so efficient that it could afford to lose a detachment of ground and air forces without even noticing. I didn't know whether I should be worried by this or not.

  As I walked around the frantic, busy base I caught snippets of cross-chat; people quietly commenting on how good it would be to nail some Americans and how this was clearly some government black-op that the General had been given to carry out under the radar. It was starting to sound like Ibromavich was quite adept at pulling off stunts like this. What else had he been up to behind the backs of the NSU?

  I didn't see Riley that day or the next and she never returned to our bunks. I often saw the back of her moving among the command staff, already wearing some NSU camouflage pants and her familiar black jumper - now hidden behind a kevlar vest riddled with ammo packs and grenades. She was Ranger Riley once more, back in the thick of the world she knew best and everything and everyone outside that circle ceased to exist. For a brief moment, as I was filling the CERV with fuel cans and other bits to take back home, I turned and saw her looking back at me through her sunglasses. I was about to smile but I quickly realised she was looking past me at an incoming chopper on the horizon. It came to hover over the pad and dropped a pallet of boxes that was suspended on cables underneath it. She jogged over to begin unpacking the contents.

  It was then that I realised something I'd put to the back of my mind; a nagging doubt that I'd forced into some dark corner came rushing to the light again. It was then that I saw the future - the real future for me and Riley and I'd been a fool to see otherwise. I tried to ignore it, to concentrate on pac
king the CERV with equipment, but it still kept coming.

  “Miller,” said a voice behind me. It was Alex and he stood there with the expression a man gets when he knows he's surplus to requirements. I was probably wearing the same one. I nodded to him and he took his hands out of his pockets. “I just wanted to say goodbye.”

  “Goodbye?” I said.

  “Yeah. His Royal Highness has given orders for Saska and I to fly back to St. Petersburg in the last transport plane. It leaves in thirty minutes.”

  “I thought...” Alex shook his head.

  “They don't need us now. Once they have the cure they'll ship it back themselves and hand it over to their own specialists. Saska will be involved of course, but my bit is pretty much done.”

  “Oh, I see," I said. "What will you do now?" He shrugged.

  "I don't know. Maybe head back to the States and see what I can do to help. I might go looking for Mom but..." I nodded my sympathy. "I gave up everything for her. Everything. My life, my career. Everything I had. And for what? To be brushed aside by Daddy. It fucking sucks, Miller. It really does."

  "Is he still against you and Saska being together?"

  "It doesn't matter now - she's the one who's left me. She wasn't forced to either. She said it was for the best, that it'd been nice when it was exciting, when people were out to get us and the adrenaline was pumping, but now..."

  "She can't handle a quiet life?"

  "No. She wants high-speed, edge of your seat, white knuckle fucking excitement 24/7. I can't give her that and I don't think I'd want to anyway. Sometimes it's nice just to hear yourself breathing, or watch a sunset, anything quiet and peaceful. She doesn't understand that."

  "Yeah," I said. "I know."

  There were shouts and commands being barked behind him and they drowned out whatever he said after that. The next thing I new he'd extended his hand to me and I took it.

  “Thank you, Miller. Whatever it was, luck, karma, I don't know, it brought you here at the right time to unlock the mystery. A lot of people will owe you and your Dad their lives in the years to come.”

  “A lot just owe us their deaths.,” I asked, not wanting to dwell on it.

  “We can't control everything,” he said. “Anyway, good luck. I assume you're staying here?” I looked for Riley but couldn't see her anywhere.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Look, if you decide you want to visit Russia...” He passed me a small memory stick in a sealed plastic bag and grinned. “I hacked Saska's computer. It's all the emails and files on that mysterious third party we told you about. I thought maybe you might want to find her.”

  “Her?” I said.

  “Yeah, I can't be sure but I think it's a woman. It's just a hunch. You take care of yourself, Miller."

  I shook his hand again and stuffed the memory stick into my pocket. “Thanks, Alex. It was nice to meet you.”

  “Likewise. I'll just go and find my Aunt and say my goodbyes. Be safe now, Miller.”

  “And you.”

  At nightfall I followed the convoy of fast moving vehicles south towards the bunker, travelling behind the medical wagons in the CERV and wondering how the night would end. Right then I wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep off the last few weeks. I felt carried along by it all. I wasn't in control and it bothered me. There was also the question of the memory stick and the revelation that the third person in this insane puzzle was a woman. Could I even risk following that line of thought to its logical conclusion? The answer at that moment was no. I needed to get back to the house and regroup, take stock, decide what to do next. Instead, I was following a voluntary force of NSU military - the last people I ever believed I'd be working with. It looked like the world had gone mad.

  The convoy halted near a football field ten miles from the location of the bunker. It was an enormous open space that took in the local park and the convoy split, parking the medical wagons in neat rows. These units opened up at the rear, extending out in all directions to form mobile operating theatres which the short-staffed team began stocking with trolleys of equipment, bandages and surgical tools the moment they could. A small force was left behind to guard them whilst the others drove on another five miles to break off into attack formations.

  Riley was somewhere amongst those who'd driven on. We hadn't spoken much since the General had asked for help and she'd left with the first of the vehicles before I'd joined the convoy earlier that day. I tried to imagine her there amongst the troops, happy and content, eager to get back to practising her trade. I tried to push her out of my mind but she lingered in the shadows, watching me with those gorgeous blue eyes.

  I parked the CERV near one of the wagons and caught the attention of a green-suited medic who was speeding between the various stations with stacks of sterilised suture packs in his arms.

  “Can I be of any use?” I asked.

  “Here,” he said, thrusting the tower into my arms. “Two per station and there are four stations in each wagon.”

  I did as he asked and found others who needed help too - especially the cooks who'd appeared from behind the trucks carrying great vats of soup and bags of bread rolls. They lit gas stoves and began warming up the food, boiling water for tea and stacking fold-out tables with bottled water and energy bars.

  "This isn't standard procedure," said a rather round looking chef. "But we're preparing for a long siege. The fighting will be done in waves giving units a chance to rest and restock before going back out."

  From the looks of their set-up the Russians were expecting serious casualties. I hadn't been invited to any of the briefings. I didn't know what the enemy numbers were but judging by the amount of equipment on the ground they must have bolstered their ranks since Riley's attack. The Russians, likewise, were taking no chances.

  By the time the first explosions reached our ears there was a surgeon stood waiting at each area, briefing their own teams. I went to the nearest one and asked what help I might be able to give.

  “Keep the grit coming,” he said in a thick accent. “Get some gloves on and be ready to start dumping soiled dressings into the bins over there. Other than that, leave the life or death bit to us, okay?”

  “Yeah, I think I understand.”

  We waited in silence as the gunfire went from sporadic to constant; a rhythmic thud-thud-thud of semi-automatic fire accompanied by the percussion of rocket and cannon. It felt close, very close, but I knew in some respect that it wasn't. It was somewhere else, somewhere miles from me and the problems I faced. I felt detached. I felt empty, like I was in a void, trapped, only able to stare out of my prison into their world - the world of guns and bombs and love.

  "It's a strange thing, isn't it?" said a surgeon next to me. "We're here and they're over there and they'll have their own medics on standby just like us. They'll be waiting too. Waiting for the dead and the dying. Just like us."

  "Life's tough," I replied.

  "I suppose so. It doesn't have to be."

  "Are you saying you don't agree with this? I thought you guys volunteered."

  "We did. It doesn't mean I have to agree with the General's policy. I'm here to patch them up until they break themselves again. I'll always go with whichever unit has the most risk. Ibromavich won hands-down this time."

  "Do you trust him?" I asked. He nodded emphatically.

  "Yes - most definitely. I was with his team in Sierra Leone and Australia He always puts his men first. He's an admirable man."

  "Admirable enough to trust with something important?"

  The surgeon cocked an eyebrow. "All these people trust him with their lives or they wouldn't be here. Is there something wrong?"

  "I'm just trying to make a decision," I said. "It isn't easy."

  "The hardest decisions are usually the most costly. I cannot speak into your situation, but if it depends on Ibromavich in some way then you'd be wise to trust him."

  "Why?" I asked. "What makes you so sure?"

  "Pe
rhaps you know a little about us in the NSU. Maybe you don't. While America put out its propaganda about my people, General Ibromavich - and others like him - were out fighting against it. We've been blamed for everything from the bombing of this place to the flooding of New Orleans. I suspect they'd blame us for Pearl Harbour if they could. Maybe they will one day. But let me tell you this - through it all Ibromavich stood upright against the tide, against the waves of criticism he received from his superiors and calls from the public to retaliate against the West. Its rare to find a leader who hasn't been corrupted by his power. I found one in the General."

  "You're proud of him," I said. The surgeon laughed.

  "In the West you seem to worship people for their mediocrity. Dancers. Singers. Authors. Footballers. We worship our leaders, people who have carried out real achievements, things to be proud of, things that made a difference to our lives."

  The roar of diesel engines drawing closer broke the conversation and the surgeon turned to me and said:

  "You'd better get ready - that'll be the first of the wounded.

  Within a few minutes the hulking APCs began spilling their bloody cargo into the centre of the medic wagon circle. Teams with trolleys began sliding bleeding, broken bodies onto them. The night was torn apart by their screams and the sounds of vehicles racing back and forth to return to the thick of the battle which raged on towards the south. I could see the explosions and the flashes of brilliant white light through a gap in the stands which disappeared every time I stopped to scoop up another armful of dripping red cloth.

  “You! Come here and hold this!” cried one of the surgeons. His team were struggling to pin down a soldier who's arm was hanging by a few tendons and strands of shredded muscle. I gripped his wrist as the surgeon sliced through them and I tumbled backwards with the arm still in my hands.

  “You have a strong stomach,” said the man as he dealt with the bleeding stump. I threw the limb into one of the yellow bags nearby and carried it to the bin. A thought flashed through my mind - that if it were my arm I'd want to keep it.