Myself.
The results have been astounding. Three months after the transformation, I have more energy than I did even as a young man, along with the strength of ten men. I can feel the madness assaulting my senses, but I hold it at bay through the force of my will.
Fear has replaced their dismissive tolerance, a reversal that pleases me. But I can sense them working up the courage to take some sort of action. I would not be the first to meet with an accident.
I could fight back, but I have no desire to shed the blood of my fellow Aryans. They are the future. I do not know how much life I have left, but I will leave them with all the signs of a lab accident to convince them that I am dead already. I will retreat to the wilderness.
I will confess to a certain amount of vanity in documenting these events. This testament I will place in the old lab, abandoned like so many other things in favor of changes that are not always improvements. Perhaps in the distant future, someone will read these words and understand the depth of true commitment.
Goodbye.
Rook had the answer he’d sought for what seemed like forever, but in reality had only been three days. Maybe a few years back, he would have felt shock and disbelief, but his capacity for surprise had diminished in recent years. This explained an awful lot of things.
The yeti was the result of an experiment by a deranged Nazi—on himself.
12
The only thing still not clear to Rook was why Kiss held a grudge. Had something else happened after he’d written those words? Rook didn’t know, but it really didn’t impact the task at hand. Now that he had found Kiss’s home base, killing him would just be a matter of picking the right moment.
As he lifted the trapdoor with the bush attached, his watch read eleven forty-five. He had to hustle, but he made it back to town by midnight and headed right for Eirek Fossen’s house. Fossen answered the door with the walkie-talkie in his hands.
“Stanislav. I was just wondering where you were.”
“I’m here, Fossen. I know how we’re gonna kill the creature.”
Fossen blinked as if trying to process the words, then he stood back and motioned Rook inside. “By all means tell me about it.”
Seated at Fossen’s table, Rook began to describe what he’d found. The secret entrance and the lab. Rook asked, “Do you know anything about this?”
Fossen remained motionless in his chair. He didn’t even appear to blink. Finally, he answered, which seemed to snap him out of it. “The old lab. It was abandoned so long ago, I’d totally forgotten about the escape route. It was something my father, who worked there, told me about when I was a child, but I never actually went into the tunnel myself.”
“And it didn’t occur to you when the creature disappeared right in that area last night?”
“No. The lab was actually closer to town, as you discovered by your long walk in the tunnel.”
“Right. You say your father worked there? Is he still alive?”
“No, he is not. He was already an old man when I was born, and he died in a lab accident.”
“Sounds like the lab was a dangerous place. I saw that everything appears to have been buried. Why was that?”
“Memories, Stanislav. It was a symbol of old things that we no longer wished to think about. Perhaps even felt ashamed of. I was still in school when it happened.”
“But you still became a scientist yourself, with your own lab. Continuing your father’s work?”
Fossen grunted. “Hardly. I’m sure that spending time there as a child contributed to my current interests, but my research is very different than what they were doing.”
Rook didn’t comment on how unlikely that sounded. “Uh-huh. Well, I did find something else interesting—lab reports. In a folder with a Nazi symbol on it. Is that part of what you wished to forget?”
“You have stumbled on one of our secrets. You can see why this is something we don’t talk about.”
“You got that right. It seems like work at the lab was not going well. But the last report was different. Instead of a report, it was like a diary entry. From a man named Edmund Kiss.”
Fossen froze at the mention of the name, but he didn’t pause before answering. “Edmund Kiss. I have not heard that name in a long time.”
“Another one of your secrets?”
“Something like that.”
“Well, good old Edmund had some interesting news. Apparently, he experimented on himself and turned himself into a giant creature with superhuman strength and a foul stench. Sound familiar?”
“It does, but—”
Rook cut him off. “But Edmund Kiss is dead? Well it turns out that he faked his own death. Something about letting the younger generation have their time.”
Fossen grasped the implications of this immediately. “So the creature we are fighting is Edmund Kiss?”
“It sure as hell seems like it. And he’s not too happy with you.”
“I guess not. Did you find anything else?”
“You mean besides the answer to all your problems? Sure, I found three abominations, pitiful wolves who were obviously the subject of genetic experimentation.”
Fossen’s eyes grew wide. He cleared his throat and said, “Those must be the wolves that escaped from my lab a few months ago. I see that Kiss took them.”
Rook knew there had to be more to the story than that, but he didn’t push it. After they killed the creature, he could decide what to do next. If he even stayed in this lunatic asylum of a town. The day’s discoveries had finally made him feel like a soldier again, kicking ass and getting the job done. After he killed Kiss, he knew he’d feel even better. But would he be ready to return to Chess Team? He’d ask that question again tomorrow.
“So you’re creating genetic freaks with your research. Isn’t that dangerous?”
“Come now, Stanislav, you do not strike me as a man who is afraid of progress. Sometimes solving great problems takes great sacrifice.”
Rook bit down on the response that came to mind. What would you know about sacrifice? Edmund Kiss turned himself into a monster. That’s a sacrifice. You’re just playing God without any real personal stake.
Fossen didn’t appear to notice the pause. “So, we should get him tonight, yes?”
Rook nodded. “Damn right. No guarantees, but I bet he’ll return down that ravine. The tree is the only place to hide, so that’s where I’ll go. I’ll have a clear shot with the AR-15 and I should be able to hobble him. Then I can finish him off up close.”
“I am coming with you.”
“No way, Fossen. We had this discussion before. Plus, didn’t we lose the other AR-15?”
“Actually you lost it, but I have another one, so it does not matter. Before, I needed you. Now I can just as easily go hide in the tree and take care of this myself. So maybe the question is, are you coming with me?”
Rook groaned, but he knew Fossen spoke the truth. The two of them in that tree together could get tense in a hurry. But he didn’t trust that Fossen could pull this off by himself, plus Rook had invested enough energy in this fight that he wanted to see it through. “Fine. Just don’t get in my way.”
“Do not worry, we make a good team.”
“So you say. I won’t wait for you if we have to run.”
Fossen’s eyes appeared as intense and cold as they had that first day when Fossen had told Rook to leave town. “I would not have it any other way.”
The wolves returned to the clearing at two in the morning. Edmund Kiss followed. The wolves didn’t stop this time, they just kept running, but Kiss slowed to a jog at the clearing. From the tree, Rook could see the huge limbs rumbling to a stop. Knowing the truth behind the creature changed everything, and Rook couldn’t help feeling sorry for him.
He looked down at the AR-15 and shook his head. Sorry or not, Kiss needed to be put down. There could be no justification for tearing apart a helpless old woman like Thorsen’s wife, Greta, no matter what she had done in
prior years.
Kiss glanced at the tree, and for a moment, Rook became aware of the exposed position he was in. Next to him, Fossen shifted, and Rook wanted to slap the man to get him to keep still. They had enough firepower to keep Kiss out of the tree, but it could get pretty hairy if it came to that.
Rook let out a breath when Kiss turned and started to the embankment. The instant he disappeared from view, Rook jumped from the tree and started running. He heard Fossen behind him do the same thing, but he no longer had the luxury of focusing on anything except his target.
At the top of the embankment, he stopped, raised the AR-15 and looked down the slope. His headlamp picked up Kiss reaching for the trap door. Rook let off a dozen shots, and he knew some of them had to have hit, but during the barrage, Kiss had disappeared down the ladder, letting the trap door close again as he did.
Fossen came up behind him. “Stanislav, did you get him?”
Rook shook his head. “He’s not dead, I’m sure of that. Looks like we follow him down.”
They half slid down the hill and hurried to the bush. Rook yanked it open while Fossen aimed his rifle down the hole. They waited a beat, but heard no sound.
Rook slung the strap for the AR-15 over his shoulder, pulled out the Desert Eagle, and went down the ladder. He reached the bottom and whistled for Fossen to follow him. A few seconds later, Fossen reached the tunnel.
“I had no idea this was here.”
“Yeah, well, Edmund Kiss did. Stay behind me.”
They started moving through the tunnel. Knowing his way now, Rook moved more quickly than he had earlier. About halfway down, he heard a thud from Kiss opening the door to the lab and letting it slam shut. He picked up the pace. Soon they arrived at the door, and he turned to Fossen. “Know why this place was called Ragnarök?”
Fossen looked at the chipping paint above the door, his face blank and unreadable. “No idea.”
Rook sighed. Getting straight and honest answers from these people is like pulling teeth from a Neanderthal. He turned back to the task at hand. “Here’s the drill. You open it. I’ll lead with a burst of fire and you stay right behind me.”
“What is behind the door?”
“One of the two main labs. Do you remember it?”
“I am sure I was in it, but it was so long ago. Having seen it today already, you know it far better than me.”
“OK, here goes. Whenever you’re ready.”
Fossen yanked the door open from the same upper corner Rook had used to lever it earlier. Rook opened fire with the AR-15 and jumped into the room. Fossen followed. Rook sprayed to both sides, obliterating cabinets and lab equipment with a cacophony of destruction. He saw no sign of Kiss, so he took more steps toward the door into the main lab.
A roar erupted from above him and he cursed at himself for not thinking of it. He whirled, knowing what he’d see. Kiss had managed to hang on the ceiling and drop directly onto Fossen.
The sound of Fossen’s head hitting the hard floor told Rook that the town’s leader was in some serious trouble. He unleashed another stream of fire at Edmund Kiss’s legs, and Kiss staggered off Fossen. He swung a massive clawed backhand toward Rook, and Rook couldn’t quite manage to get out of the way while holding the gun. A white-hot surge of pain started in his left shoulder and made a beeline for his brain, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut to ward off the nausea. When he opened them, he saw Kiss disappear through the door, pulling himself with his two hairy arms and dragging ruined legs behind him.
Through watering eyes, he saw Fossen lying still on the ground. He didn’t have time to worry about that now; he had to finish Kiss once and for all. For a moment he thought his shoulder was dislocated, but he moved it and didn’t pass out from the pain. It hurt like hell, and he would have a hell of a bruise, but he could still hold the Desert Eagle in that hand as a backup. He didn’t think it mattered; if the automatic rifle wouldn’t do the trick, odds were against the pistol doing it.
He went through the door and didn’t see Kiss. Maybe he was hiding in one of the offices or biohazard rooms, but Rook didn’t think so. He expected to find the man/monster in the only spot that probably still felt safe, the room where he ate and slept. A trail of blood confirmed this theory. The door to that room was open, and Rook approached it with caution.
From the doorway, he saw Kiss collapsed on the couch and blankets. He could hear wet breathing, and he knew a lucky shot must have gotten through the breastplate and pierced a lung. Kiss turned his head to meet Rook’s eyes, but he made no move to stand up.
The eyes no longer seemed monstrous. They were sad, and even though yellow, they felt all too human. Rook raised the AR-15, then lowered it, wincing as the movement on his right side shifted the injured left shoulder. He said, “Edmund Kiss, right?”
Kiss nodded.
“Can you still talk?”
Kiss shook his head and made a breathy sound that could have been “no” if Rook used his imagination a bit.
“I’ll do the talking then. You’ve caused a lot of trouble. Why’d you come back?”
Kiss shook his head again, and Rook wondered what he meant. You don’t want to tell me? You don’t know? What?
Rook felt awkward. He knew that anti-terrorist units faced regular difficulty in identifying the enemy, but usually Chess Team didn’t have that problem. Living statues brought to life by the “Mother Tongue” didn’t leave any doubt about the need for termination. Here, though…
Rook lowered the gun. Kiss’s eyes opened wider. He got himself to a seated position and pointed to his head then to Rook. Rook couldn’t believe it.
Damn. He actually wants me to shoot him. What the hell do I do now?
Kiss must have sensed Rook’s doubt, because he let out a roar and flung himself off the couch at Rook. His legs wouldn’t hold his weight, but the massive body gained enough momentum to take it toward Rook’s position. Without even pausing to think about it, Rook pulled the trigger and sent two dozen shells into Kiss’s face at point blank range.
Kiss collapsed to the ground, landing on his side, then rolling onto his back. As he did, a hand shot up in the air, and Rook could see that Kiss clutched something in it. Then the hand dropped to the ground. Still several feet away, Rook kept the weapon aimed at Kiss’s face.
A minute later, he’d seen no movement, so he shuffled closer. He couldn’t hear any breathing, but he wanted to make sure. He poked at the rib cage near the armpit, and the lack of reaction told him he could move closer. Still wary, he put a hand on the old German’s chest and felt no heartbeat. Edmund Kiss was dead.
Rook stood, then he remembered the dying move with the hand. He found what Kiss had been holding, a manila envelope that had seen better days.
He heard movement behind him and turned with the gun. Fossen was in the doorway, on his hands and knees. In one motion, he stowed the rifle and stuffed the envelope under his shirt, then moved toward Fossen.
“You all right, Fossen?”
Fossen shifted so his back leaned against the doorjamb. “I am very dizzy and my head feels like a thousand trains are rolling through it at once. But I believe I escaped serious injury.”
“You’re one lucky bastard, you know that?”
“Once again you have saved my life. I thank you. And I see you have finally killed our monster.”
Fossen stared at the body of Edmund Kiss, and Rook detected some strong emotions. Under the circumstances, he understood that, what with the memory of the dead and the impact of a quarter ton animal landing on him. Fossen inhaled through his nose and then nodded.
“If you don’t mind, Stanislav, could you help me to my feet?”
“Sure.” Rook helped the man stand up. “You have a doctor in this town?”
Fossen leaned on Rook, unable to stand on his own. “Yes we do. I think I should pay him a visit.”
“My left shoulder could use some attention too. Let me help you back through the tunnel.”
Before he l
eft the doorway, Fossen took one more look back. He nodded once, and Rook could see again the ice that seemed to come and go from the man’s expression. After a moment, Fossen turned, and they began to stagger away, Rook trying to bear Fossen’s weight without allowing too much pressure to build on his left side.
Unlike Fossen, he didn’t look back.
By the time they arrived in town, Rook’s shoulder felt like a crazed drummer was using him for percussion practice. Fossen’s balance had improved, and he made it most of the way back without leaning on Rook. As they started by the first houses, people started coming out of the doors. Rook didn’t see how they could know that the deed was done, but he figured maybe two battered figures limping down the main drag spoke for itself. Still, at four in the morning, he wouldn’t have expected it.
Lights flicked on all the way down the street, and they received nods and varying degrees of smiles from each house. A few people walked out to shake their hands. Anni actually walked out and embraced Fossen, then offered her hand to Rook. He returned her smile along with the handshake.
Soon enough, they reached Peder’s car, and Rook stopped.
“Fossen, I think this is where I get off. I need to sleep for a couple days, but I’ll settle for a few hours in Peder’s barn.”
Fossen pursed his lips. “I could offer you a bed in my house, but I sense that you are comfortable where you are, yes?”
“Yeah, I think so. I’m a sucker for the smell of horse shit.”
“I believe you are. I will arrange for the doctor to drive up to Peder’s house sometime in the late morning.”
“Thanks, Fossen.”
“Thank-you, Stanislav. You can call me Eirek.”
Rook looked into those eyes again, trying to read them. Maybe he was just tired, but Fossen’s look didn’t give anything away. Fossen had done well tonight, and only Rook’s own failure to look up when they entered the first door had allowed the creature to take him out. He didn’t trust the man yet, but he’d gained some respect for him.
Callsign: Rook - Book 1 (A Stan Tremblay - Chess Team Novella) Page 8
