Eternal Night

by Richard Turner

  “How is Nate doing?” asked Jen.

  “He’s in the dining room, eating the Austrians out of house and home,” replied Mitchell.

  “So, he’s okay.”

  “Very much so. Folks, during our search of the bioweapons plant, we found what I believe to be a mass grave. In it, I came across an ID that must have belonged to one of the people murdered there. The name on the ID is Dalca.” He spelled the name out for them.

  “Give me a minute,” said Fahimah, checking the web for any information on the name.

  “While we’re waiting,” said O’Reilly, “Jen was able to learn a little bit more about Spiridov Island.”

  Jen cleared her throat. “Ryan, the island has a long history, going back to the eighteenth century when the Russian navy built an outpost there. During the Russian Civil War, the Reds thought the island strategic enough to emplace several batteries of guns there. After the war, the place was abandoned, and no one lived there until the Soviets built their facility in the early 1950s and called it Research Facility Eight. According to documents released by the Russians, the base once stored weaponized anthrax spores, smallpox, and bubonic plague bacilli. After the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, the plant fell into disuse, and was closed the next year. All of the scientists and workers were relocated off the island. Today, it’s nothing more than a ghost town.”

  “Sounds just like our bioweapons plant in South Sudan,” said Mitchell.

  “Yes, very much so. However, over the past four years, several of the old anthrax test sites were cleaned up.”

  “By whom?”

  “That info is classified.”

  “Sure would be nice to know who was recently on the island.”

  “I think I’ve got something from 2007,” announced Fahimah.

  “Let’s have it,” said O’Reilly.

  “Alexandru Dalca was an employee of Star Pharmaceuticals and was reported missing after his plane crashed in Lake Victoria during a flight to Dar es Salaam, Tanzania. Mister Dalca, along with twelve other employees of Star Pharmaceuticals, had just finished cleaning up an old factory and were on their way home when their flight reported engine problems. Minutes later, it vanished without a trace.”

  “Well, I know that’s a load of bull,” said Mitchell. “They were all shot and dumped into a pit at the old bioweapons site. The pilot probably ditched the plane in the lake to make it look like they had all perished together.”

  “I’ll let the State Department know what you found,” said O’Reilly. “They can let the Romanian authorities know their missing people’s remains are still there.”

  “Ten to one, Kagame’s thugs are digging up the evidence as we speak. The only clue we’re going to have is this ID, and that’s not much to go with.”

  “You’re right, but I’m still going to pass on what we’ve managed to learn about the old site.”

  “General, I still can’t wrap my head around why Grace keeps sending us from one old bioweapons facility to another.”

  “I think I’m beginning to see a pattern here,” said Donaldson.

  “I’m glad someone is,” said Mitchell. “What have you got, Mike?”

  “It’s a wild guess, but here goes. What do these bioweapons plants and Sandesh’s head of security have in common?”

  “Mike, it’s three in the morning, and I’m really tired. Just tell me what you’ve got.”

  “The Warsaw Pact.”

  “Come again?”

  “All of Eastern Europe along with the Soviet Union once belonged to the Warsaw Pact. What if some of the key people involved in the military alliance never really gave up, after communism collapsed?”

  “I thought the last time we spoke you eliminated Dimov as a possible hard-core communist.”

  “True, but all of the people who trained him were at one time loyal communist-party members, and they would have known other like-minded people spread throughout the former Warsaw Pact.”

  “Mike, you can’t possibly be suggesting that some grumpy old men want to bring back communism? It didn’t work then, and most assuredly wouldn’t work in today’s more open political climate.”

  “I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just putting the pieces of the jigsaw together to try and draw a logical conclusion.”

  “How does Sandesh fit into this?” asked Jen.

  “He may not, but his money and his corporate empire may,” replied Donaldson.

  “My head’s spinning,” said Mitchell. “General, I need a couple of hours’ shut-eye to process everything before I do anything else.”

  “Roger that, Ryan,” said O’Reilly. “Stay where you are until Mike or I gives you a call. I think it may be time for you three to link up with Sam, Gordon, and Yuri in Cyprus, before deciding whether or not to continue on to Kazakhstan.”

  “Sounds good, sir.”

  “Take care,” said Jen.

  “Always,” replied Mitchell, before hanging up.

  O’Reilly sat back in his chair and looked at Donaldson. “That’s quite the theory you’ve come up with, Mike.”

  “I know, sir, but it’s the only thing that makes any sense to me,” replied Donaldson.

  “Since I can’t come up with an alternate theory that fits what we’ve learned so far, I say keep digging. Maybe there’s some merit to what you’ve proposed.”

  “Will do, sir.”

  “Fahimah, Jen, if Mike’s right and Sandesh’s corporation is somehow connected, we need to know everything we can about his company.”

  “Sir, we’ve been rooting around his company for days,” said Fahimah. “So far, we haven’t found any red flags.”

  “Keep looking. The answer has to be there.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  O’Reilly stood and looked at a clock on the wall. “I see it’s already past six in the evening, and we’re all getting a little tired. If you could hand over your notes to the nighttime duty staff and let a fresh set of eyes carry on your good work, that would be greatly appreciated.”

  “I’ll brief up Jane and Garry myself,” said Donaldson. “They’re a pair of analytical geniuses, who should be able to confirm or refute our hypothesis.”

  “Thanks,” said the general, as he picked up his notes and left the room.

  “Jen, don’t worry about your notes,” said Fahimah. “Mike and I will consolidate everything before we leave. Head home, and spend some time with Sarah and your mom.”

  Jen smiled. “Thanks.”

  “Maybe one day you can repay the favor.”

  “Yeah, I’d like that.”

  “So would we.”

  36

  The Caspian Sea

  Grace sat in her chair, looking down at the blue-carpeted floor. She focused her attention on a silver coin someone had accidentally dropped there. Grace took long deep breaths to calm her racing heart.

  “What’s wrong, my love?” asked Sandesh.

  “Varun, I don’t mind being in the water, just not under it.”

  Sandesh chuckled. “Baroness, my submarine is the safest one money can buy. We could easily dive down to five hundred meters, and still be within its designated safety limits.”

  Grace shot her hand over and clenched Sandesh’s fingers in hers. “Let’s not. Twenty meters down is fine with me.”

  “Just try to relax; we’ll be there soon enough.”

  “Easy for you to say,” she replied, squeezing Sandesh’s hand even tighter.

  Varun pulled his hand free, and stood. His private submarine was just over twenty meters in length, and could hold a dozen passengers in comfort. Unlike a military sub, his was built to entertain clients and guests. Comfortable leather chairs and multiple windows ensured a relaxing view of the world beneath the seas. Sandesh’s vessel even included a bar, but Dimov had ordered the bartender to remain aboard the yacht.

  Sandesh walked to the middle of the sub, where Dimov sat in a small conning tower, steering the vessel. “How long until we reach Site Bravo?” he asked Di
mov.

  “We’re almost there,” said Dimov. “We should reach the site in just under five minutes.”

  “How long do you see us staying there, before I can get back on with my life?”

  “Sir, once you announce Achlys to the world, your life will never be the same again.”

  Sandesh took a seat. “True, but just think of the good we’ll be doing.”

  “Once we dock, I’ll check in with your chief geneticist and see how he’s doing. After that, we should sit down and decide how you intend to announce your discovery.”

  “I was thinking about using the UN as a platform to spread my word.”

  “That is one option. I have some thoughts as well that we can talk about later.”

  A red light flashed on Dimov’s control panel. “Sir, my proximity alarm has activated. Please strap yourself in while I guide us into the sub pen.”

  Sandesh returned to his seat and buckled himself in tight. A bright light switched on underneath of the vessel, lighting the way ahead. Though the large, bulbous front window, Sandesh watched as Dimov skillfully brought their submarine through a concrete tunnel, before blowing the ballast tanks and surfacing the vessel inside a well-lit dockyard. Using the thrusters on either side of the sub, Dimov turned the boat around and brought it in to dock.

  On the concrete jetty, two men tied the sub to the dock, and stepped on board the outer hull.

  “We’re here,” announced Dimov, climbing out of his seat to open the inner and outer hatches.

  Grace stood and looked out the front window at the dock, and let out a long-held breath. She’d made it. With as much composure as she could muster, she took Sandesh’s arm and smiled.

  “Sorry about that,” she said. “It’s my one weakness. I nearly drowned as a child, and have hated having my head below the surface of the water ever since.”

  Sandesh patted one of her hands. “No need to apologize. I have a fear of clowns.”

  “Varun, please, you’re making that up to make me feel better.”

  “No, seriously, I can’t abide them. They’re smiling on the outside while scheming to kill on the inside. You’ll never see one at any of the events I hold for children’s causes. Not a one!”

  Grace reached up and climbed the ladder out of the conning tower and onto the hull.

  “This way, please, ma’am,” said one of the men on the hull, extending his hand to her.

  Grace took his hand and stepped off onto the jetty. She looked around and saw Cyrillic signs on the walls. An old poster with Lenin appealing to the masses hung on a closed door.

  “I take it we’re in the former Soviet Union?” said Grace to Sandesh.

  “Correct,” replied Sandesh. “Krasimir arranged for me to buy this place five years ago for almost nothing. He’s spent the past four fixing it up for me. This is my first time here. I’m really kind of excited. After all, you don’t get to pretend you’re a spy every day.”

  “No, you don’t. How far underground are we?”

  “About sixty meters. There are three floors above us. The top floor is dedicated to research. The second floor is the living and dining accommodations, and the third floor is for the installation’s power plant.”

  “Varun, darling, why did we sneak in here via an underground submarine pen?”

  “The island above us is supposed to be deserted. Besides, I thought it would be far more fun to try out my submarine than fly here.”

  Grace smiled. “Okay, here’s a better question. Why did this island need a secret sub pen?”

  “Something to do with the Cold War. The Soviets used to make bioweapons on the island. The facility on the surface was mainly for show. The real work was done out of sight, right here in this facility. To avoid detection by U.S. spy satellites, they would ship out their refined weapons via this channel. Amazing, isn’t it?”

  “It’s something, all right.”

  “Mister Sandesh, Baroness, please follow me, and I’ll show you to your quarters,” said Dimov.

  As they walked to the nearest elevator, Grace asked, “How many people work here?”

  “It varies,” said Dimov. “Right now, we’re working at full capacity; therefore, there are about three dozen people on site. Eight are technical staff, the remainder are support and security personnel.”

  They got into the elevator, and rode it to the second floor. As soon as the doors slid open, Grace noticed the hallways curved. “Are the floors circular?”

  “That they are,” said Dimov. “Your quarters are just down to the left.”

  “Our luggage?” asked Sandesh.

  “It will all be brought up shortly.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Sir, I’m going carry on and see how Mister Dinu is doing. Shall we meet in the cafeteria in an hour?”

  The hair on Grace’s arms stood straight up.

  “Sounds good,” said Sandesh. “Come, my dear, let’s get settled in.”

  Grace had no intention of settling in with anyone. She walked with him to his room and stopped. “Varun, please don’t be upset, but with everything that has happened over the past few days, I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed. I’d like some space to digest everything.”

  Sandesh pretended to pout. “Are you sure I can’t comfort you?”

  “Perhaps later, once I’ve relaxed a bit. I’m still a bit shaken by the sub ride. I won’t be far. I’ll take the room next to yours.”

  “I understand. If you’re feeling up to it, why don’t you join Krasimir and me in the cafeteria? Once you hear what I’ve got planned, you’ll be able to tell your friends that you were there the day that peace broke out around the world.”

  “I’d love that. See you in an hour.”

  Dimov opened his door and stepped inside. Turning on her heel, Grace spun around and walked to the next room. She pushed open the door, and suddenly stopped in her tracks. There was a young woman with short, black hair sitting on a bed.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t know there was someone in this room. Miss…?”

  “Dinu, Nova Dinu,” said the woman.

  Grace closed the door behind her and walked over to a table. She grabbed a pen and piece of paper and wrote: Is this room bugged? Nod your head if it is. Grace slipped the note over to Nova.

  The woman read it and nodded.

  “Well, it’s my pleasure to meet you, Nova. My name’s Clare Strachan. Some people call me by my title of Baroness, but between us girls I prefer Clare.”

  “Hello, Clare,” said Nova, shaking Grace’s hand.

  “Have you been here long?”

  “Close to two months now.”

  Grace took a seat next to Clare, and looked into the girl’s ice-blue eyes. “I heard that your father is here, too.”

  Nova nodded.

  Grace scribbled out another note: Don’t worry, I’m here to help you.

  Nova took the note, read it, and then crumpled it up. “Clare, will you be staying long?”

  “As long as I need to. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll check out the room across the hallway and see if it is empty.”

  “It is,” said Nova. “The majority of the people here are men, and they sleep farther down the corridor.”

  Grace stood and winked at Nova. “I’ll talk to you later.” She exited the room, and checked the quarters across the hallway. They were empty. Grace sat down on her bed, and felt a wave of relief wash over her. She had found the Dinus, and in less than an hour, she would learn what Sandesh was up to. Now, all she had to do was figure a way to get herself and the Dinus off the island alive.

  Nova sat staring at the door, until she was sure she wasn’t going to be disturbed again. She stood, walked over to her desk, and picked up her phone.

  “Operations,” said a man on the line.

  “Can I please speak with Mister Dimov?”

  “One moment, please.”

  Nova bit her lip and prayed the door would remain shut.

  “Yes, Nova,” said Dimov. />
  Nova’s heart soared, hearing his voice. “Krasimir, you have a traitor in your midst.”

  “Who?”

  “That Scottish woman. She stupidly told me she’s here to rescue my father and me.”

  “You have done well. Whatever you do, don’t let her know we’ve spoken. Go along with whatever she tells you to do for now.”

  “I will, my love.”

  “I have to go now, but I’ll be by our room later tonight.”

  Nova’s voice turned husky. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

  “Until tonight.” The line went dead.

  Nova placed the phone down, and smiled wickedly. It was her turn to help her lover. The thought of the Scottish woman being brought to her knees to beg for her life made her warm all over. For the first time in a long time, her life was looking up.

  37

  Precisely one hour later, Grace walked out into the hallway and joined Sandesh. She’d changed into a comfortable, black velour outfit, while Sandesh wore white trousers, with a long, gray, Nehru-style jacket.

  “Are you ready to make history, Baroness?” asked Sandesh. His eyes were alight.

  She smiled and slid an arm under his. “I can’t wait to hear what you’ve got planned.”

  They strolled arm in arm until they came to the cafeteria. An armed guard stood watch at the door. Sandesh held the door open for Grace. Aside from Dimov sitting at a table, the room was empty.

  “There isn’t much space for privacy down here,” explained Dimov. “The guard will ensure we’re left alone until we have concluded our discussion.”

  Sandesh and Grace joined Dimov while he poured three cups of tea. “How is Mister Dinu?” asked Sandesh.

  “He is doing fine. Achlys will be complete and ready for use three days from now.”

  “Please forgive me for asking, but what is Achlys?” asked Grace.

  “According to ancient scholars, Achlys is the eternal night before chaos reigns over the world. For me, Achlys is the means by which I will bring about worldwide nuclear disarmament and world peace,” said Sandesh proudly.