by Greig Beck
Red looked around at the frozen compound. “Just how the hell do you find these types of places? And in a Siberian communication blackout zone.”
Carter followed his gaze. “Come on, this is Russia’s answer to Club Med! Welcome!”
Mitch laughed. “More like welcome to Club Hell.”
A light snow began to fall, dusting their hair, and Red looked up and then exhaled, expelling a long gout of vapor. His lips compressed for a moment.
“Sorry about Marcus. That’s fucked up, man.”
Carter nodded. “Yeah. And we’re gonna ensure it doesn’t get any more fucked up.”
Mitch picked up his bag. “A hot shower, a warm rum, followed by a debrief will be just what the doctor ordered.”
Carter nodded. “I’ll briefly introduce you around, then show you to your places. We can all get together in my cabin later and talk.”
*****
Carter went over the equipment he’d obtained with his small team—he managed to get handguns, rifles, and snow uniforms and also some Gen-II monocular night vision goggles for all of them; they were a little dated, but a robust design, and still did the job.
Carter had been offered some position-mounted claymores, and though the chance of blowing up a bear, deer, or maybe some hunter who had wandered onto the property by accident was high risk, he still took four. He’d only arm them during nighttime hours, as there shouldn’t be hunters out this far, and even they wouldn’t be tracking at night. He just hoped the bear and deer wouldn’t be wandering around either. The wolves, well, they were cunning enough to sense danger and usually avoided the scent of humans.
Carter also took some sensors and could program them to send a signal back to his phone if their beam was broken. It was fairly good modern Chinese tech so it cost him a small fortune. But it’d be worth it if ensured there was less chance of sneak attacks.
All up, Red and Mitch were happy with their armaments and they’d only managed to bring their own knives. Bottom line, if anyone turned up looking for trouble, they’d get it back double and either go home with a bloody nose, or end up in a cold, shallow grave.
The three men sat around and drank and talked for hours. Tomorrow, Carter would take them out to walk the line—tour the mill property to get a feel for the terrain, and possible places of egress.
They’d also build a few shelters out in the woods in case they needed to make some war in the forest or go to ground. But Carter seriously hoped it wouldn’t come to that.
As far as himself, Red, or Mitch was concerned, they were happy to get down and dirty as events required.
Carter sat back and stared at the amber fluid in his glass. The crap thing was, he knew from experience that sometimes it was war itself that decided how things turned out.
CHAPTER 24
Carter and his team had fully taken over the security. Yuri worked well with the new Americans and he seemed okay, if not a little wary of them. Nikolay, Stefan, Pavel, and Dmitry just stayed out of their way.
Carter had also introduced them to Sara. She had shaken both their hands, as she looked them over. “Appreciate your help. You’ll report to Carter, but I’m the boss,” she said as she stared hard into their faces. “Just remember, you’re in Russia now.”
“We’ve all worked in Russia before, Mrs. Stenson,” Red replied.
She raised one eyebrow. “Do the Russians know that?”
Red and Mitch both just grinned.
She shook her head and sighed. “Call me Sara, and thank you for coming.”
The days came and went, and it was on the night before the new moon when it was darkest that one of the claymores detonated. Carter was out of bed and dressed in his snow gear in half a minute. He snatched up both his night-vision goggles and a large handheld mega-watt flashlight that he kept switched off for now. In another minute, Red and Mitch were with him, dressed and ready to go.
Sara was out on the porch of her house, dragging on a thick coat. “What the hell was that?”
Carter waved and yelled back. “Claymore detonation. We’re on it.”
“Claymore?” she asked, mouth agape.
“We’re on it.” Carter rejoined his team. “Far claymore, the one near the lakeshore on the track,” he said. He flicked down the night-vision goggles and switched them on. “We stay dark until we get a little closer.”
The three men headed out fast, low, and quiet. Carter knew exactly where every claymore was planted, and the one that had detonated was in his third quadrant and the one furthest out at nearly a mile along the shoreline and inland by a hundred feet.
It took them 10 minutes to close in, and Carter waved them down and spread his team out in a small skirmish line. Red was out to the left and Mitch to his right. They all had guns pulled in tight to their shoulders, eyes unblinking as they edged forward one silent step at a time.
Carter slowed even more, not caring if they came in at glacial speed as the pitch-dark forest had fallen into a deathly silence. The night-vision optics made everything a fluorescent green, and if there were any eyes staring at him, they’d be glowing back like silver chips.
He was just 20 feet out from where the claymore had been planted when he saw the large, ragged mound lying about 10 feet from the detonation point. It was well beyond the trigger thread, so had probably been up close when it had set off the claymore and then been blown backward.
Carter eased in a little more. The mound was much bigger than a man, and even though torn up now, he could see there were masses of bloody fur. He whispered into his mic.
“Got something here. But looks like we mighta just fragged Yogi Bear.”
From out of the green gloom on the left and right, Mitch and Red appeared, guns pointed at the mound of flesh and fur.
Mitch grunted. “Make a nice hat and boots, I guess.”
Carter joined them and stared down at it. He placed his foot against the great beast and pushed it over onto its back.
“Jesus.” Mitch’s lip curled. “Did the blast do that?”
“Un-fucking-likely. That ain’t all the bear,” Red said and shook his head. “Where’s all the freaking guts gone?”
Carter came in closer and crouched with his rifle across his knees as he examined the carcass.
The thing hadn’t just been eviscerated, but the inside of the body was totally empty, and there were no guts spread around. It looked like it had been cleaned in an abattoir, and the front wasn’t blown open, but just looked… sort of… unzipped.
“Something’s not right,” he said.
Though the huge body was definitely from a bear, and a big one, probably once standing at about seven or so feet tall and weighing in at around 800 pounds, the thing now looked hollowed out.
Carter quickly looked about, trying to find the telltale glossy blackness of blood or viscera on the ground, tree trunks, or even in the branches overhead. But there was nothing.
“Where are the guts?” Red repeated.
“No idea.” Carter got to his feet.
“Wolves, maybe?” Mitch nudged it with the toe of his boot.
“Nah, it’s only been 20 minutes since the blast; hasn’t been time for scavengers to feed on the organs.” Carter still scanned the brush. The thing was, if they weren’t here, and weren’t eaten, then what the hell happened? he wondered.
Truth was, Carter had no idea. But he needed to see it in more light. “Spread out, and go to flashlight. Let’s find those guts.” He flicked his goggles up, pulled out the large light, and switched it on. The white glow immediately did as he expected it to: show the blood as glistening splashes. But there should have been more.
“Got a trail here,” Red said.
Carter and Mitch followed him as he tracked the trail through the frozen forest. Streaks of blood and deep gouges in the snow showed that something of considerable weight had been dragged through the forest,
Maybe some sort of predator had claimed the innards? Carter was now thinking. “Heading to the water,�
�� he said softly, and then, “Hold positions.”
There was the sound of water movement where there should have been none. There was no breeze, and therefore no chance for the water to be producing waves or even ripples. But there was something agitating the water, and maybe moving in or out of it.
“Go dark,” Carter said, switching out his light, and dropping his night-vision goggles over his eyes again. He pulled his microphone plug up in front of his chin.
The men shouldered their guns and eased toward the water. Carter estimated there was only about 50 feet of land before they hit the shoreline. Then, whatever it was would have its back to the freezing lake—it could cross the ice, swim, or come back at them.
He spoke softly into his mic. “Heads up, waterline ahead.”
He looked down and could still make out the blood trail, but now up close he saw it also contained glistening streaks like mucous and also spiked tracks. He came out of the forest and went down on one knee beside one of the last tree trunks. The trail continued to the water without deviating an inch.
Red crouched beside him and looked through the scope on his rifle.
Mitch was still out in the dark and came in on the mic. “Got light,” he said.
“Where?” Carter said, standing tall.
“Wait…” Mitch cursed. “Nah, gone.”
“Where were they?” Carter said, straining to see out over the water and ice.
“Couple of hundred feet out—looked deep, and then they vanished. And it was damn fast.”
“Shit. Okay, come on in.” Carter looked down at the trail. Whatever it was, it never stopped at the waterline. The blood trail went in and kept going.
“This is some weird shit,” Red said.
Mitch ambled in. “Hey, they don’t have alligators here, do they?”
Red snorted. “Even if they did, you think gators would be swimming in that water? It’s nearly solid ice now.”
“What did they look like?” Red asked. “Could it have been some sort of Russian mini submersible?”
“It was a glow, greenish like phosphor-lights.” Mitch snorted. “And yeah, the sub crew were just ashore loading up on some supplies. You know, like a couple of buckets full of bear guts.” He barely stifled his laugh.
“Shut it, asshole,” Red said and turned to Carter. “What do you think it was, boss? This is your patch.”
“Don’t know,” Carter said and looked out over the lake that was freezing into a checkerboard of huge slabs of white. “I just don’t know.” He sighed, hating to ask the question. “Mitch, one thing: did the glow look man-made or natural?”
Mitch frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“Man-made or like bioluminescence?” Carter asked again.
“Wasn’t no firefly.” Mitch still frowned.
“Whatever.” Carter waved them on. “Let’s get out of here.”
The trio headed back to the bear carcass and stood around it, staring down at the ruined animal. Evidence seemed to point to something just taking the innards of the bear. But why would anything just take the guts of the bear and leave all the meat? It didn’t make sense.
“No guts, and something else,” Mitch observed. “No blood either.”
He was right. The huge carcass wasn’t leaking blood, and it should have had buckets of it pouring out.
Red bent forward and used the muzzle of his gun to open one of the gut-flaps. “You know what? This fucking thing is gross being all empty like that.” He peered inside. “It’s hollow.” Red’s mouth turned down as he straightened. “You know what it reminds me of? A ghillie suit.”
“Yeah, yeah it does,” Mitch agreed.
Carter looked back down at the mutilated lump of fur and meat. “A ghillie suit.” He felt a small knot tighten in his gut. “We take it back,” he said.
“What? Even without its guts, it’s gotta weigh 7–800 pounds,” Mitch complained.
“Nah, it’s empty,” Carter replied. “5–600 hundred, tops. Between us, it’ll be a piece of cake. I want Sara to take a look at it.”
“Sheee-it,” Mitch spat. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing. If those old Russians decide to cook it, I’m not eating any.”
CHAPTER 25
It took the men over two hours to drag the carcass back to the compound. By then, the body had stiffened more from the cold than rigor mortis.
“What now?” Red asked, putting a hand in the small of his back and stretching.
Carter turned about for a moment. “To the mill house; that’s where we’ve got the labs set up. Sara and the boys can check it out in the morning.”
Yuri came out of his cabin and pulled on a thick coat before crossing the grounds to see what they were up to.
“You find answer to explosion, yes?” He stared down at the thing. “Good hunting… is bear?”
“It was,” Carter responded. “We’ll let Sara take a look at it tomorrow.”
Yuri leaned in a little closer and then drew back. “Is blind.”
“What?” Carter turned back around to the bear. Sure enough, he now saw that both eyes were a milky white. And there was more; the tongue was shriveled as though dehydrated.
“Maybe why it walked into your bomb,” Yuri pronounced, but then also saw the mouth. “Strange; looks like it has been dead for a long time, weeks maybe.”
“No. It was walking when it blundered into the claymore,” Carter responded.
“But no blood, or guts,” Red added.
Yuri leaned closer, and then blew air between his lips. “An abomination. If I believed in God, now would be good time to start praying to him.”
“Yeah, well, I don’t think God has anything to do with this thing,” Mitch responded. “More like the guy from down under.”
Red grinned. “You mean from Australia?”
“Oh fuck off.” Mitch returned the grin. “Come on; let’s dump this big bastard so we can clock off.”
The three men dragged the dead creature to the mill house loading doors, and Yuri jogged ahead to open them wide.
They tugged it inside. The mill house had been cleaned and converted into several laboratory rooms and offices, and it had more doors to pass through to keep the lab section and hatcheries clean, temperature-controlled, and secure.
The men left the dead animal outside in the main stock receiving area, which wasn’t heated so the cold would stop it thawing out. Carter threw a tarpaulin over it and stood back with his hands on his hips.
“Weird,” he said softly.
“Got that right; this whole thing is turning into one weird-ass trip,” Mitch said.
“Is not even full winter yet,” Yuri said ominously.
“Yeah, thanks for inviting us. I’m having a great time already.” Red slapped Carter on the shoulder, as Mitch chuckled and nodded his agreement.
“Yeah, drinking cold beers in warm sunshine is overrated anyway,” Mitch said. He looked down at his gloves that were covered in drying blood and glistening mucous. “Well, I’m fucked. So if there’s nothing else, I’m gonna down a few shots, and then hit the hay.”
“One minute.” Carter crossed to a long wooden bench and searched around until he found a pen and some paper. And then hastily scribbled a note to Sara. He dropped it on the tarpaulin.
“Okay.” Carter led them out and stared back at the mound under the tarpaulin for a few seconds before closing the huge doors.
“And weirder by the second,” he muttered and locked the doors.
*****
Sara and Nikolay were first into the laboratory and immediately saw the huge mound covered over with a tarpaulin. They switched on all the lights over the cavernous building and wandered over.
There was a note on top and Sara lifted it, recognizing Carter’s handwriting and then began reading.
Sara, we found this bear in the woods last night—dead—after it walked into one of our booby traps. I think there was something inside it. Can you guys look it over and give me your opinion? This might be i
mportant. Carter.
She folded the note and stuck it in her pocket. It was cold in the outer most room of the mill house building that was more like an entrance area they had created for supplies delivery, and so there was no smell emanating from the still-frozen thing.
Sara ripped the large blue plastic tarpaulin from it, and her brows immediately drew together.
“What the hell?” She looked across to the young Russian. “Have you ever seen something like this before?”
Nikolay’s head jerked back on his neck. “I have lived in these parts most of my life when I’m not at university, and I’ve seen bears alive and dead. I’ve seen them as fresh kills, and also as very old carcasses in the woods. And this bear has not been alive for a long time.”
Sara stared down at it. “Carter said it walked into one of their booby traps… last night.” She pulled the tarpaulin all the way off the beast and then crouched beside it to get a better look. “I don’t get it.”
She knew Carter was level-headed and didn’t think he made mistakes, so maybe it was dark and he didn’t know what he was looking at. She turned to Nikolay. “Get me a probe, something… anything.”
He quickly jumped up to look around for something he could use as a probe, spotted the pen Carter had used, and rushed to grab it. He then returned to hand it to Sara and crouched again by the mutilated mound of flesh and fur.
Sara held the pen up and half-smiled. “This is the best you could find? In a lab?” She sighed and then began to prod the carcass in several places.
The thing was still mostly frozen so it felt like rock beneath the fur. She poked at it with the pen and wished he had a magnifying glass. But this time, when she lifted the pen from the body, some of its fur came with it.
There was also something sticky at the base where the hair follicles were that reminded her of tar. She brought it close to her nose and sniffed.
“Phew.”
It smelled of spoiled meat and oil. Maybe remnants of the bear’s last meal that might have even been exploded from its stomach in the blast.
“Hey.”
