There were shrapnel holes too, and one of the four legs of the tower the water tank was standing on was broken and splintered, but there was no mistaking the perfectly circular pattern of holes stitched across one side of the water tank. He looked at the ground by his feet and saw shell casings.
He knelt and picked one up. Russian, 9mm. Favored short round of the Spetsnaz special forces.
He looked around him. This must be the place.
With a sigh, he tightened the straps on his backpack, hitched a rope over his shoulder and walked over to the ladder that led from the ground, up to the platform on which the tank was resting, and then up the side of the tank to an open manhole cover at the top.
The metal was cold, even through his gloves. Kushniruk was used to the cold. He was a cop from Whitehorse in the Canadian Yukon Territory, and the only difference between the Yukon and this place, as far he was concerned, was a distinct lack of trees, leaving nothing to protect you from the biting wind except the rise and fall of the ground — and the blackened ruins of the US base in which the water tank stood.
As he reached the top of the ladder, he hesitated. He had a pretty good idea what he’d find inside.
Or thought he did.
He’d come to look for a local Yup’ik man. Man? Just a kid really. A lone, brave, hard as nails kid who had single-handedly turned the tide of a war, not that anyone except Kushniruk would ever know it. Kushniruk had come to Saint Lawrence to find him; he’d been out to the overflowing Savoonga medical clinic but there was no record of him there. Instead he had found the kid’s name on a list in the town hall in Savoonga, along with hundreds of others… ‘missing, presumed dead’.
His heart had fallen, even though he’d prepared himself. There was a woman there, a round-faced weary woman wearing three sweaters inside the hall because the power and heating weren’t reliable yet, and Kushniruk had asked her how he could find the cantonment, or what was left of it.
“Why?” she’d asked. “Nothing out there. We exhumed all the bodies from the graves, gave them a proper burial here in town.”
“I’m looking for a water tower?” he’d said. “Might be the only thing left standing. You know it?”
“You a photographer?” the woman had asked. “You need a permit to take photographs out there. Folks around here are pretty sensitive about it.”
Kushniruk had shown her his Canadian Mounted Police ID, “No, I’m just following something up. Sorry, I can’t really discuss it.”
The woman had shrugged, and drawn him a map. Told him he’d have to hustle if he wanted to get out there today, because it would be dusk in two hours.
“You have to declare anything you find to Savoonga police,” she’d said. “We don’t hold with souvenir hunters.”
“I will,” he’d told her, and hoped he wouldn’t have to. After it all, it was still possible the kid had made it. He wasn’t from Savoonga, he was from Gambell, a town about fifty miles west. He could have headed back there without registering. Kushniruk hadn’t been able to reach his family, because communications with Gambell were still down. The kid could be back home, ripping through the snow on his ATV, or out fishing for halibut with his father and brothers.
Kushniruk paused on his way up the ladder, looking across the blasted wasteland that had until recently been the new US Savoonga radar facility. He could see why the boy had climbed up here. It had a perfect view of the single long runway of the Savoonga airfield — vehicles and aircraft parked alongside it — and he watched as a small two engined air ambulance began its landing. He grabbed the lip of the manhole and hauled himself up. It was dark inside, the grey light filtering through the shrapnel and bullet holes not enough to light the interior of the tank, so he pulled a flashlight from his belt and held it up.
He panned the light around.
The first thing he saw was that he would have to come back tomorrow.
He’d only brought one body bag.
“He’s been dying for you to arrive,” Williams told Ambassador McCarthy with a wry smile. He pulled out his only other chair and turned on his electric kettle, putting out two paper coffee cups and spooning instant coffee into them. “How are things above ground?”
She settled wearily on the chair and leaned her head back against the wall, “Getting back to normal.” She sighed, “It’s amazing how quickly a near nuclear holocaust becomes yesterday’s news. State is obsessing over what Navalny is going to do with the coup plotters while CIA is doing its damndest to recruit them before they get arrested and shot.”
“May I deliver my briefing ma’am?” HOLMES plummy English voice interrupted. “I enjoy delivering briefings,” HOLMES said.
“You enjoy showing off is more like it,” Williams said. “I know you do, because I taught you to.”
“You have something big?” Devlin asked. HOLMES had been forwarding her a daily summary of all critical intelligence on the fast-moving situation within the Russian regime as President Navalny acted to neutralize the coup plotters and re-establish control of his government and armed forces. He was pulling down intel from the CIA, DIA; NSA, FBI, State Department, Cybercommand and sources inside the five-eyes nations of Britain, Canada, Australia and New Zealand too. It meant she had a more complete overview of the situation inside the Kremlin than even the CIA head of station for Moscow, and that was something she greatly enjoyed. But HOLMES had asked today to deliver his report ‘in person’. “Whatever it is, can you start with a sitrep please? Highlights on predefined interests only.”
Carl smiled at how quickly the Ambassador had adjusted to the protocol for talking to his AI system, and now just took it in her stride.
“Yes Ma’am,” HOLMES began. “Topic, Coup Leaders: all members of the so-called ‘Committee for the Special Regime’ including former Foreign Minister Kelnikov and VVS General Potemkin have now surrendered to Russian authorities and are being held at Lefortovo Prison for interrogation. None have yet been charged. Topic, Civil Unrest: Riots between members of the Russian ultra-right wing ‘Wolves’ movement and the ‘Citizens for Protection of the Constitution’ continued for a third day with deaths reported in Ekaterinburg, Vladivostok and Moscow. Topic: US cyber-attacks on Russian infrastructure: Russian banking systems were restored yesterday and Moscow stock exchange reopened. Power supplies in major cities are approaching pre-conflict norms except for St. Petersburg. Cell phone and television broadcast networks have been restored in 70 % of the country. Topic, military dispositions: All air, ground and sea units except for interior ministry forces in areas of urban unrest have returned to their pre-conflict bases and readiness levels, however a continued heightened level of signals traffic across the country persists. Topic, Politicaclass="underline" President Navalny has declared that the current nationwide State of Emergency will remain in force until civil unrest subsides. Decrees issued since yesterday include; a decree to disband leftist and nationalist political parties, a decree to ban the New Pravda media group, a decree to postpone elections planned for October indefinitely, a decree to establish a new committee to investigate the coup attempt and propose criminal charges and constitutional amendments. Do you have any specific questions Ma’am?”
“Threats to embassy property and personnel?” Devlin asked.
“A CIA source in the Moscow chapter of the ‘Wolves’ reported yesterday that the group is preparing Molotov cocktails and smoke bombs for use in a protest at the Embassy next Monday. The source is rated as ‘usually reliable’, the report as ‘probably true.’ No other reports of note.”