“Oh.”
Jack looked at Carl, and then he pulled open the front of the box and then reached in and separated the thick plastic with his bare hands. Fifteen pounds of dry ice spilled out onto the drive, and Collins stepped back.
“Oh, my God,” Alice said as she took Niles by the arm.
“Damn them,” Jack said as the others drew around him and the gift that had been specially delivered.
All were stunned at the sight before them.
In the box, curled up in a sitting position and in full dress uniform, was Second Captain Dishlakov. The skin was gray in color, and they could see he had been dead for some time. In his arms was a folded newspaper, and Carl reached in and took it. He unfolded it and then stared at the headline. It was in Russian, so he handed the paper over to Alice, who was fluent in the language. She swallowed and looked it over. She lowered the paper and looked at the others.
“It’s dated three days ago from the Moscow rag they call a newspaper.”
They looked at the paper as Alice passed it around. The one photo on the front page was a black-and-white picture of the missile cruiser Peter the Great, seen at her launching three years before.
“It says that the Peter the Great was lost with all hands in the North Atlantic due to the effects of Hurricane Tildy. It is sadly reported that two other vessels were lost at the same time.”
“How many men on board?” Mendenhall asked.
“We brought home four hundred and twelve survivors,” Jason said as his anger at what was just dawning in his mind started to overwhelm him.
“Jesus, Jack, they killed them all. The entire crew.” Carl stood aghast as he remembered the Russian sailors who had given the villagers gifts and happiness only a few days before.
Collins said nothing as he reached in and removed a small envelope that was pinned to Dishlakov’s uniform jacket. He handed it over to Niles, who stood and stared at the box for the longest time. Instead of reading the message — because at the moment, he could not trust his voice — he handed the letter to Alice, who didn’t want to but tore it open nonetheless.
Dearest Dr. Compton,
Please accept this gift from your new acquaintances across the sea who are endeavoring to end close to six hundred years of injustice to the people of Russia. While we regard your mission to your government worthwhile and meaningful, our hopes are that there is a mutual regard and acquiescence to our goals as well. If not, we have many years to solve our differences. If you desire, you and your president can make this a public matter. If this is the course you choose, we can solve our dilemma sooner, rather than later. We are prepared for this and will be even more so in the near future.
Until we meet again in the fields of endeavor we have both chosen for our life’s work, I bid you and your marvelous group farewell. It is a frightening world, is it not?
Alice handed the note and envelope to Jack as Jason, Will, and Jenks eased the body of Second Captain Dishlakov from the box. They laid him on the grass by the drive as Sarah, who had slipped inside the house, covered the former naval officer in a bedsheet.
“What do we do now?” Virginia asked, angered at the development coming at the end of such a happy occasion.
Niles looked up at the anxious faces looking his way. “Let’s ask the men who had served with Second Captain Dishlakov and his crew. Jack?”
Collins pulled the sheet back and reached down and removed the topmost medal from the breast jacket of the second captain. He looked at the overly large citation and then placed it in his pocket and walked away as the others watched on.
“What was that?” Charlie asked.
Carl turned and started to follow Collins when he heard the question.
“That was the Russian naval commendation awarded by the politburo. It’s their version of the medal of honor.”
“What’s Jack going to do with it?” Xavier asked, not believing what was happening.
Carl Everett looked at the men and women watching Jack enter the house, and then they waited for an answer that all but the naïve already knew.
“It may not be now, next year, or five years down the road, but Jack just promised himself he would pin that medal to Comrade Vassick’s liver.”
Niles Compton turned also and followed Collins.
“And that man’s going to help him do it.”
Things had changed for Department 5656, known to a select few as the Event Group. A new element had been silently added to their federal charter, and the world to them and the country would never be the same again.
ALSO BY DAVID L. GOLEMON
Event
Legend
Ancients
Leviathan
Primeval
Legacy
Ripper
Carpathian
Overlord
The Mountain
The Traveler
The Supernaturals
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DAVID L. GOLEMON grew up in Chino, California. He has raised three great children and now makes his home in New York. Beyond the Sea is the twelfth novel in his Event Group series. Visit David online at www.EventGroupFiles.com. You can sign up for email updates here.