The Boy Who Glowed in the Dark (The Nadia Tesla Series Book 3)
Page 1
ALSO BY OREST STELMACH
The Boy from Reactor 4
The Boy Who Stole from the Dead
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2014 Orest Stelmach
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Thomas & Mercer, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Thomas & Mercer are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781477822845
ISBN-10: 1477822844
Cover design by David Drummond, Salamander Hill Design
Library of Congress Control Number: 2013957008
For the children of Chornobyl
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
CHAPTER 34
CHAPTER 35
CHAPTER 36
CHAPTER 37
CHAPTER 38
CHAPTER 39
CHAPTER 40
CHAPTER 41
CHAPTER 42
CHAPTER 43
CHAPTER 44
CHAPTER 45
CHAPTER 46
CHAPTER 47
CHAPTER 48
CHAPTER 49
CHAPTER 50
CHAPTER 51
CHAPTER 52
CHAPTER 53
CHAPTER 54
CHAPTER 55
CHAPTER 56
CHAPTER 57
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
One week earlier
IF A MAN lived long enough, he risked becoming what he once hated.
Luo stood at the edge of Park Slavi in Kyiv, the capital city of Ukraine, watching people rush to work. They looked miserable. City folks spent their lives chasing treasure in hopes of escaping that same city. Luo had never understood the obsession with treasure. Until now.
A slender man with a dark complexion appeared. He looked like the man in the picture Luo had bought from the guard at Chornobyl. They called him the scavenger because of his ability to extract value from the most unlikely places. He was a loner with a reputation for elusiveness and toughness.
Luo turned his knapsack to make the yellow peace sign visible. The scavenger’s eyes went to the sticker and stopped. He studied Luo, glanced in each direction and approached. The scavenger’s fence had arranged a code for the two men to use to confirm their identities.
“Two friends go hunting bear,” the scavenger said in Russian. “One gets a rifle, the other a pair of skis. Which would you choose?”
“The skis,” Luo said.
“You won’t outrun the bear on your skis.”
“I don’t need to outrun the bear. I just need to outrun my friend.”
The scavenger thrust his hand forward. “Hayder,” he said.
Luo shook it. “Luoravetian.”
Hayder frowned.
Luo knew his Russian sounded coarse to people outside Siberia. That made his unusual first name incomprehensible to some. “Luo,” he said.
Hayder nodded. Better.
Luo started down one of two paths that wound into the forest.
Hayder took three steps and stopped. “Why are you leading me this way?” He craned his neck around the bend, but trees obscured his view.
“I’m not leading you anywhere.” Luo motioned toward the people strolling around the park. “Just getting us some privacy.”
“Is something going to happen to me if I follow you down that path?”
“Yeah. You’re going to realize just how paranoid you are.”
“Paranoia keeps the scavenger alive.” Hayder pointed toward the second path, the one that followed an access road into the woods. “We go this way instead. And we stop at the edge where the people can still see us.”
Luo slung his knapsack over his shoulder. It contained his weapons of choice. “Sounds good. How about you lead on, and I’ll follow you.”
They walked down the second path.
“What’s the job?” Hayder said.
“Diamonds,” Luo said.
“Diamonds?”
Luo noted the inflection in Hayder’s voice. Speak of gold and you got a thief’s attention. But promise him diamonds and he forgot his own name.
“Magadan diamonds,” Luo said.
“Magadan.” Hayder frowned. “Siberia? You’re from Siberia?”
Luo nodded. “In the 1970s, an asteroid hit Russia between Krasnoyarsk and Yakutia. It left a meteorite crater about one hundred kilometers wide. Filled with diamonds.”
“Asteroid? You’re kidding me.”
“It’s called the Popigai Astroblem, and it’s supposed to contain trillions of carats of diamonds. Enough to satisfy worldwide demand for the next three thousand years.”
“Is this common knowledge?”
Luo ambled further down the path out of sight of the other visitors. Hayder was so focused on the diamonds he shuffled along to keep pace, seemingly oblivious to his own movement.
“It was a secret until the Russians declassified the documents in 2012,” Luo said. “The mine is a start-up. They’ve taken some samples. I have a man on the inside.” Luo stopped. He turned to face Hayder, positioning himself at the proper angle to ensure the scavenger kept his back to the access road. “But I need someone with special skills.”
A light flickered in Hayder’s eyes. “Why me?”
“I need a man who’s comfortable negotiating an industrial site in the dead of night. Someone experienced in slipping in and out of tight places. Someone like the finest scavenger ever to prowl Chornobyl and its Zone of Exclusion.” The Zone of Exclusion was the thirty-kilometer radius around Chornobyl’s nuclear power plants. “The man who stripped more engines from radioactive vehicles, more steel from abandoned buildings, and more spare parts from shuttered nuclear facilities than anyone else.”
Hayder remained expressionless for a moment. Then he nodded. “That would be me.”
Luo sighed with relief. “Good. I needed you to confirm I had the right man.”
Three men burst from behind a thicket of trees. They grabbed Hayder’s arms and legs. One sealed the scavenger’s mouth with tape. Another took the gun from his pocket.
A white van screamed down the access roa
d. The rear doors opened. The men lifted Hayder and threw him in the back. Then they climbed inside after him. Luo followed and slammed the doors shut behind him. The driver took off.
The men tied Hayder’s arms and legs to a chair.
Fifteen minutes later, the van pulled over in an empty field. The three men and the driver got out.
Luo sat on a bench opposite Hayder. Anger shone in the scavenger’s eyes. He wasn’t afraid. Luo was impressed.
“The fence said you were a prudent man,” Luo said. “So I figured you’d insist on taking the other path. The one near the access road. Now, I’m going to remove the gag from your mouth so you can answer my questions. If you scream for help you’ll only end up hurting yourself. Do we understand each other?”
Hayder nodded. Luo removed the tape from his mouth.
Hayder swore and worked his jaw loose. Then he glared at Luo. “Do we know each other? Have I done something to you?”
“No.”
“Then what do you want?”
“The truth,” Luo said.
“The truth about what?”
“Nadia Tesla.”
“Who?”
“The woman you escorted into the Zone last year with your friend, the professor. The one who moonlights as a taxi driver.”
Hayder’s eyes widened. Recognition gave way to disgust. “The entitled American bitch? What about her? I don’t even know her. It was in one day, out the next.”
“What was her business in the Zone?”
“What about the diamonds?”
“Diamonds? What diamonds?”
Luo dropped a thick roll of hryvnia, the Ukrainian currency, on the table in front of Hayder. The scavenger stared at it. Still a chance for him to make a profit.
“What was Nadia Tesla’s business in the Zone?” Luo said.
Hayder picked up the pace of his delivery. “She was meeting a relative. An uncle.”
“How could she be meeting an uncle when no one lives in Chornobyl?”
“People live in Chornobyl. Not many, but they’re there. Squatters. People who love their land and their homes. They return even though it’s illegal.”
“And her uncle was one of them?”
Hayder shrugged. “Maybe. There was some gossip in the Zone a week later.”
“Gossip?”
“There’s a café. The workers from the reactors go there. People hear things. They talk.”
“And what did they say?”
“That an American woman had met with an old man. And that the old man is dead.”
“Did Nadia say anything about a boy during the trip?”
“A boy?” Hayder frowned.
“Yes. A boy from Chornobyl.”
“A boy from the Zone? No.”
“Is it possible she was meeting a boy in the Zone that night? At her uncle’s house?”
“I don’t know. You should ask the babushka.”
Luo’s ears perked up. “What babushka?”
“The gossip was the American woman had met with a squatter. A sick old man who lived with a babushka that took care of him.”
“Do you have a name?”
“No.” Hayder eyed the money. “I wish I did.” He frowned at Luo. “You know, if all you wanted was information, we could have done this over coffee.”
“We both know that’s a lie,” Luo said. “You needed to know I’m serious.”
Hayder paused, then nodded. “What now?”
“My men will release you. You’re free to go. The money is yours. It’s payment for your silence. But if I hear you asking questions about anything we discussed today, you won’t be asking many more questions after that. Do we understand each other?”
“Yeah. We understand each other.”
Luo summoned the men he’d hired and told them to release their prisoner. They were old army buddies. A military career had left him with friends all over the former Soviet Union. Most of them were more than willing to moonlight for a few extra bucks.
Luo’s next lead was in Chornobyl. He actually had to go to the radioactive wasteland himself. Only idiot tourists went there. He dreaded the notion, but his pursuit of the treasure left him no choice. He was obsessed with it.
He had lived long enough to become what he once hated, but that wasn’t what shocked him. The big surprise was that he couldn’t have been happier about it. No other endeavor had ever fulfilled him so much. Nothing he had ever done had given him such joy.
CHAPTER 1
BOBBY’S FINGER HOVERED over his keyboard. With one stroke he was about to cancel his Facebook account. Making his life public had exposed him. Increased the odds someone from his prior life would recognize him. He’d gone ahead and created an account anyway. He had fans. Female fans. Gorgeous female fans. From places like Detroit, Chicago, Montreal, and Toronto. Even Sweden and Holland. They watched his videos on YouTube and sent letters to Fordham. It was all so flattering. He couldn’t refuse.
But now his conscience was nagging at him. He’d promised Nadia, his cousin and guardian, to stay away from social media. No one else could know about his past. No one.
He pressed the RETURN key and followed the proper procedure to confirm his account had been cancelled. Less than a minute later his smart phone buzzed. He checked the screen.
A text message. From Derek Mace, his best friend and personal bodyguard on the Fordham Prep hockey team.
Yo, Bobbyorr, you there?
The team had bestowed the nickname because he reminded them of the Bruins legend.
Bobby typed his answer. What’s up, killer?
You’re really out?
Yeah.
My mom heard you beat the rap.
She heard right.
You’re out for good?
As long as I stay out of the penalty box.
Awesome!
Yeah.
How was jail?
Bobby remembered the claustrophobia, the trembling in the middle of the night, the beatings, and the ten days in the infirmary that followed.
It wasn’t.
Wasn’t what?
A place you ever want to visit. I have to go now.
Wait. We have to celebrate.
Thanks, but I’ll pass.
I have your favorite snacks and refreshments. Crème soda and popcorn.
That was their code for beer and pot. Bobby remembered drinking and getting stoned with Derek, some of their other teammates, and a bunch of girls. That was before he was charged with the murder of an English businessman. After almost ending up in jail for the rest of his life, the thought of doing something so stupid was unimaginable. Honest to God, he thought, it was as though someone else had borrowed his brain.
On a diet. No more crème soda or popcorn for me. See you next week.
Bobby turned off his phone.
He shut down his other social media accounts and connected to his public e-mail account. He’d created it so he could isolate messages from strangers via social media.
Three messages leaped off the screen. They’d been sent intermittently during the last two weeks from the same sender. The subject line had been left empty in each case.
The sender’s name was GenesisII26486. He recognized the numbers immediately. April 26, 1986. The date of the explosion at the Chornobyl nuclear power plant. More importantly, he recognized the phrase Genesis II. It stirred memories, tapped his heart, and left him stunned. The subject of the e-mail had been left blank, as though the author knew the sender’s name alone was enough to capture his attention.
The sender was right. The only person who knew the meaning of Genesis II besides him was dead. The e-mail meant someone else knew the secrets of his past. The questions were who had discovered him and how had he obtained his information?
Bobby opened the e-ma
il.
There was no message, just a link to an attachment. Bobby clicked on the file. It took forever to load. A photo unfolded on the screen. He stared at it dumbfounded.
“Nadia!” he said.
She came running from her bedroom. He stood up and met her in the doorway. Relief washed over her face. It gave way to confusion.
Bobby stepped aside to let her in.
“Computer,” he said in Ukrainian. He would have liked to have said something more but he was too shocked to form a complete sentence. Besides, nothing more needed to be said.
Nadia looked at the screen. Bobby stared over her shoulder.
It was a photo of a necklace and a locket in the palm of a boy’s hand. It looked identical to the locket Bobby’s father had given him in Ukraine. They’d learned three weeks and three days ago that Bobby’s locket contained part of a precious formula. The other half of it was missing. There was no way to know if the second half of the formula even existed.
“Why did you take a picture of yourself holding the locket?” Nadia said.
“I didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
“No one.”
“I’m confused.”
“That’s not my hand.”
Nadia’s eyes widened.
Bobby edged past her and slipped into his chair. “There’s another locket.”
“There’s another boy,” Nadia said. “When was this sent?”
“There are three e-mails. The last one was sent five days ago. I just opened it.”
“Who sent it?”
“The sender’s name was GenesisII26486.”
“Does that mean anything to you?”
Nadia had proven her love. Bobby knew he could trust her. Still, for reasons beyond his comprehension, he couldn’t admit he knew the meaning of the phrase. He desperately wanted to, but he couldn’t stand the thought of talking about his past. He just couldn’t.
“The last five numbers are the date of the Chornobyl explosion,” Bobby said. “In Ukraine they put the day first, the month second. But Genesis II. No. That doesn’t mean anything to me.”
“Can you get any more information about where it was sent from?”