Canticum Tenebris (Wrath of the Old Gods Book 2)

by John Triptych

  “Ah, so that’s why you are here then? I thought this was strictly a supply run with reinforcements.”

  Denikin looked at him seriously. “No more chit-chat, General. Let’s get down to business. Your report said you found two children who may or may not have been able to somehow travel to another world.”

  “Yes, Major Bulgakov and myself planned the operation. I was surprised it went exactly according to plan since the source of the intelligence regarding the children was somewhat vague.”

  “Major Pyotr Bulgakov? Of the Twenty-Fourth Spetsnaz Brigade?”

  “Yes. Do you know of him?”

  Denikin nodded. “We planned and executed a number of operations in both the Caucasus and in Ukraine. A very competent commander.”

  “I agree, he was pretty good and we captured the children without any difficulty.”

  “Wait, go back from the beginning. How did your unit get wind of these children?”

  “We received a coded transmission from Moscow that claimed that two children would appear at the exact coordinates in the forest outside of Novosibirsk. It was pretty surprising that we even got a radio message during that time since we had thought that all wireless communications had been cut off since the snow started to fall this summer. Since my headquarters always has two radio operators manning the communications channel at all times, we were lucky to get that single message,” Klimov said.

  “No such message originated from Moscow.”

  Klimov’s eyes widened again. “What? But that’s impossible! The codes were authenticated.”

  “Whoever sent that message to you was somebody else,” Denikin said. “I saw a copy of that message that you sent in with your report, and I can confirm that no such order came from the Ministry of Defense. I don’t blame you for following orders since it seemed to give us a clue as to what’s going on and that’s why I am here. I need to ascertain any sort of information so that I can report this to the president and find a way to save our country before it collapses.”

  Klimov sighed. “I see, Pasha. If I ever find the perpetrators of this subterfuge I will execute them myself.”

  “Moscow is working on it,” Denikin said. “But in the meantime we have more pressing matters here. It said on your report that you were able to identify one of the two children and that he is Russian.”

  “Yes,” Klimov said as he took out a folder from a stack of papers sitting on the coffee table and handed it to him. “The boy’s name is Ilya Volkhov. Ten years old and residing in Orphanage Number Two before his disappearance in the two months leading before the operation.”

  Denikin leafed through the folder. There wasn’t a whole lot of information in the files since the subject was just a child. “Typical orphan: abandoned by his mother and raised by the state. Father unknown. What makes him so special?”

  “When we questioned him, the boy claimed to have traveled across a sort of imaginary world after he escaped from the clutches of Baba Yaga.”

  “Baba Yaga? The so-called witch of Slavic folklore?”

  “Yes. Or so he says. The boy claimed that many other children were abducted and killed by this witch, but he was somehow able to escape.”

  “What else did he say?”

  “He says this snow storm and everything else that is happening within the country is being caused by Chernobog, some sort of god, I believe.”

  Denikin nodded. “Yes, the god of evil- according to our old folklore.”

  “You believe all of this too, Pasha?”

  Denikin placed the now empty tea glass on the table and leaned back in the leather chair. The flickering firelight cast yellow and orange shadows across his face. “That is consistent with the other reports we have been receiving. It seems that the gods of old have returned and are staking out their original territories. Russia would indeed fall under Chernobog’s influence if this was true.”

  Klimov sighed once more. “I can still hardly believe it. Back in the Soviet era, we used to suppress the Eastern Orthodox Church, now it seems we have been wrong about which gods we should have been worried about. All our weapons are largely useless.”

  “Thinking of surrendering to these gods, General?”

  Klimov shook his head. “Of course not. I have a duty as a soldier to serve the country. Until I am told otherwise, I shall follow my orders even if it means losing my life.”

  “That is good to hear. Now what about the other child?”

  “She was a girl of about fifteen or sixteen years of age, I believe,” Klimov said as he took out another folder from the table and handed it to the FSB deputy director. “Her name is Tara Weiss and she is an American.”

  Denikin started going through the file. The firelight was not the best illumination for reading, but his eyes were like an owl's. “Not much information here either. It says she is from the state of Arizona and she ran away from home? How did she make it all the way to Siberia?”

  “We initially had a hard time getting a proper translator since she spoke only English, but one of the Spetsnaz troopers who was trained in her language was actually able to communicate with her,” Klimov said. “She did not have a passport or any means of travel so we were confused on how she got here, but her story was the same as the orphaned boy, she claims she traveled across this other dimension or some sort of spirit world from America and over to us here.”

  “Did either of them say what the reason was as to why they came to Siberia?”

  “Apparently both children were here to find information about the boy’s mother from the orphanage.”

  “Did they explain as to how they were able to travel from this other dimension over to the real world?”

  “That they did not explain,” Klimov said. “When the Spetsnaz asked the girl, she broke down crying, saying they killed her pet dog or something like that. The boy was questioned separately, but he has refused to answer to this very day.”

  “So the commandos opened fire on a pet dog during the operation?”

  “I wasn’t there so I asked Major Bulgakov, he told me two of his men opened fire on a small dog when they thought it was a stray or something. I didn’t mention it on the report since I didn’t think it was important.”

  Denikin frowned. “I’m afraid every minute detail is important now, General. The Spetsnaz operators should have attempted to capture this pet dog instead of shooting at it.”

  “My apologies, Deputy Director,” Klimov said, this time using the formal position of the man who was questioning him. “But the now fake cable from Moscow had stated that any stray animals in the operations area were to be shot dead.”

  “Yes, yes, I understand you were misled by that damned message. Moscow has so far been unable to trace who originated it despite the fact that the president had every single radio operator court-martialed and imprisoned.”

  “We were only following orders that we perceived to be genuine at that time, Pasha.”

  Denikin was clearly irritated. “Very well. Did they kill it by the way? I haven’t seen a report to confirm it.”

  “The Spetsnaz did report that they shot at it but they failed to find it. It’s possible that the animal is either wounded or…”

  “Or it survived,” Denikin added. “I want you to deploy a team back to that area and try to either find it or its remains.”

  “I shall do that at once but I hardly think the animal would still be alive. Spetsnaz operatives are highly skilled marksmen and it’s doubtful they would have missed. The dog’s corpse is probably underneath a blanket of snow,” Klimov said.

  “Nevertheless, I want the area searched. The president has confided his worries to me that we may not last long if this keeps up so any clue as to a possible cause to this crisis must be thoroughly investigated.”

  “A search team will be deployed at once, Deputy Director.”

  “Now, tell me what happened to the girl.”

  “After our preliminary questioning we thought it best to send her to Moscow.
Major Bulgakov commanded the convoy himself. They left over a month ago and I’m pretty sure you received them. But you know this already.”

  “Word did get to Moscow that a convoy was on its way, but they never reached us.”

  “What? Is this some sort of joke, Pasha?”

  “I wish it were. But no sign of a convoy from Novosibirsk ever reached Moscow.”

  Klimov’s face was contorted in frustration. “Chort vozmi! There was at least a platoon of soldiers that we sent to escort that girl. So this means we lost her and Major Bulgakov as well. This is not good.”

  “That is why I was sent here, General,” Denikin said calmly. “To determine whether there is any foundation to the president’s suspicions as to whether your report was one hundred percent truthful.”

  Despite the roaring fire, the tea, and the vodka, an ice-cold feeling of dread began to creep over Klimov’s body. “Surely you cannot suspect me of conniving with the enemy, Deputy Director? I have been completely loyal to the president and to Russia. My record speaks for itself.”

  “To your credit, I feel you have answered my questions truthfully thus far,” Denikin said. “Other than the dog, are you certain you have included everything else that had happened in your report?”

  “Yes. I give you my word as an officer of the Russian Army.”

  Denikin’s face remained impassive. “Alright. You did well in assigning Major Bulgakov for the convoy. I knew him and trusted him like my brother. That would only mean then that whoever intercepted that convoy must have been behind the bogus radio transmission as well. Where is the boy right now?”

  “Right here in this very building,” Klimov said. “He is in one of the officer’s quarters. I have a pair of men watching him day and night.”

  “Has he said anything to you lately?”

  “No, ever since he found out that the girl was escorted out of the city, he has become defiant and would answer no more questions.”

  “Have you used enhanced interrogation techniques on him yet?”

  Klimov winced at the words. What the Deputy Director meant was physical and psychological torture. Even as a general, he did not like that aspect of information gathering, Klimov preferred that others do it whenever the situation arose. “No, I felt that he had already answered the preliminary questions we had asked of him even though we didn’t believe it was the truth. I don’t know what else we could interrogate him on. I didn’t want to use enhanced techniques either, at least not until you got here.”

  Denikin stood up and stretched his aching back. Despite having just rode in a steel tank all the way to Siberia, there was no time for rest. Time was too important. “Let’s go see him then.”

  Despite being held in a small room with only a bed and an old wooden table with a creaky chair to furnish it, Ilya Volkhov wasn’t complaining. It wasn’t much worse than the dormitory hall that he lived in when he was at the orphanage. The soldiers detaining him had made a square sized hole in the door to the room before placing a metal slot in place of it so that they could observe him. Ilya thought it was annoying at first because when he would get ready for bed, he could see eyes looking at him from the opened slot, but he slowly got used to it. The young boy was allowed onto the building grounds two hours every day for some exercise. Ilya made the best use of it by constantly running and jumping from one end of the enclosed courtyard to the other until he could no longer catch his breath. On the whole, the soldiers of the army base treated him with indifference, but he had grown to like one of them: Private Anosov because he always smiled at Ilya and would even share some chewing gum whenever the boy would ask for it. Anosov had the day shift and so Ilya would sometimes play chess with him. They would have many bouts in his room since there was hardly anything else to do. Ilya had lost a dozen matches until he went on a winning streak before realizing Anosov was just letting him win, so he demanded that the young private play to the best of his ability from then on. As the weeks passed, Ilya still continued to lose at chess since he had never been very good at it to begin with, but he felt he was slowly getting better.

  It was during one of their chess matches that the two very senior commanders opened the door and walked inside. Private Anosov had been sitting in the chair and to the opposite end of the small table was Ilya who had been using his bed to sit on. They both instantly leapt up onto their feet the moment the door opened. The young private instantly stood to attention and saluted as Klimov and Denikin walked into the room.

  Anosov immediately snapped to attention and made a salute. “General Klimov, sir! I-I’m sorry I was just engaging our guest in a little game of chess, sir.”

  Klimov grinned and waved for him to be calm. “Do not be alarmed, Private. We are here simply to chat with our guest. With me is Deputy Director Denikin of the FSB.”

  Anosov turned while still in attention and saluted Denikin as well. “I-I am sorry for this, Deputy Director. I know I am not suppose to fraternize with prisoners- I m-mean guests without proper authorization, sir!”

  Denikin returned his salute. “At ease, Private. You did an amazing job in using your own initiative to make our guest feel more comfortable. If you don’t mind waiting outside, we would like to play some chess with our honored guest here.”

  Anosov saluted them both for a third time before hurriedly walking out of the room and closing the door behind him. Klimov motioned for Ilya to sit back down on his bed but the boy continued to just stare at the both of them, his face was a mixture of surprise and quiet defiance.

  “Do not be alarmed, my young friend,” Denikin said. “We mean you no harm.”

  Ilya looked up at him. “Then why am I being held prisoner here?”

  “You are not a prisoner, Ilya, otherwise you would be in a cell,” Klimov said as he sat down on the chair. “You are a guest here.”

  Ilya frowned. “If I am a guest, then why am I not being allowed to leave?”

  “It’s for your protection,” Denikin said. “Baba Yaga is looking for you and therefore it’s best you stay here so we can defend you if she arrives.”

  Ilya sat down at the edge of the bed and shook his head. “You cannot protect me. You will all be killed if she comes here.”

  Denikin furrowed his brow. “Oh? You’re saying she is capable of destroying an entire Russian Army command? Is she truly that powerful? Then why hasn’t she come then?”

  Ilya shrugged. “She has her own reasons, maybe she doesn’t know I’m even here. But all you’re doing is putting yourselves at risk by keeping me here.”

  Klimov looked at the pieces on the chessboard. “And if we let you go how safe would you be? If we cannot protect you, then how could a little boy like you even fight her off?”

  “I will not fight her, I can trick her.”

  Denikin crossed his arms. The boy was either delusional or he was the key to everything. “How did you trick her the last time, Ilya? How did you escape after she abducted you?”

  Ilya looked out of the window. “I had some chewing gum in my pocket. When she opened the cage to examine me, I stuck the gum in the lock and opened the cage after she went to sleep.”

  Klimov moved one of the chess pieces on the board. “And that’s how you escaped back to Novosibirsk, right?”

  Ilya shook his head again. “No, when I got out of her hut I was in the Spirit World.”

  Denikin was taking mental notes. Based on his own experiences in interrogation, he concluded that the boy was sure of himself and it didn’t seem like he was lying. “So she made you travel to her dimension because you were her prisoner then? Ah, that makes sense.”

  Klimov looked quizzically at the deputy director who merely winked back at him.

  Denikin took out a small picture from his pocket and gave it to the boy. “We need your help, Ilya. Help us to understand what is going on so you can be reunited with this woman.”

  Ilya looked at the picture and gasped. “That is my mother!”

  “Yes,” Denikin said. “She is
safe and sound with us and I promise that you will be reunited with her if you cooperate with us and tell us how to travel back and forth to the Spirit World.”

  Ilya grimaced. “You’re lying, you do not have her.”

  Klimov continued to play with the pieces on the chessboard. “What makes you say we are lying to you, Ilya? Why should we lie?”

  “I know you don’t have her,” Ilya said. “They told me so.”

  Denikin sat down on the bed beside the boy and looked at him. “Who told you this, Ilya?”

  “Radegast and Ozwiena,” Ilya said.

  “I know of a Radegast, the old Slavic god,” Denikin said. “I’m not familiar with the other one, is she a goddess too?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what did she tell you as to where your mother was?”

  “She said that Chernobog has her prisoner.”

  “And how will you get her away from a god like Chernobog?”

  “With my friends,” Ilya said. “The girl you took away. Tara. Where is she?”

  Klimov said nothing as he looked at Denikin. He was the lead in this interrogation and the boy was already telling them many things that he had not previously heard. This was all just strange to him. In his years in service to the country, it just didn’t make any sense but the FSB Deputy Director seemed to know what he was doing, so it was better for him to take the lead in all of this.

  Denikin figured it was better to tell the truth this time. “We had her sent on a convoy back to Moscow so that she could return to America. But we never heard from them again. The source that told us where you would be appearing when we found you in the forest outside of the city. They must be the same people who ambushed your friend’s convoy. She is missing but if she is like you, I assume she must still be alive somewhere.”

  Ilya frowned. “What about the dog? Your people started to shoot at it the moment you ambushed us. Where is it?”

  “We don’t know what happened to it,” Denikin said. “I assure you that I didn’t give any orders to shoot it.”

  Ilya didn’t answer. He just looked down at the floor.

  Denikin leaned back on the wall. “Did you need this dog to travel to this Spirit World? What’s so special about this dog?”