“Yeah. Guess it must have been tough on you.”
“It was tough love, yes. When I saw him for the last time, I asked him if there would be a way to start things over. Outside the Zone if necessary, far away from all that shit that kept torturing his soul. He said never.”
“Don’t forget where you were,” the sniper says getting on his feet. “I’ll have a look outside but will be right back.”
“Bored of me, huh?”
The jackal lying lazily at Mac’s feet emits a yelp.
“Oh, Billy my boy… at least you never get tired of listening to me, do you?”
Ahuizotl doesn’t reply but heaves a long sigh when he raises his binoculars to survey the rocky valley. The sun has already set, turning the western horizon dark purple yet no stars are visible in the black sky. Scanning the land to the south, he realizes why the darkness is so gloomy.
“We have a dust storm approaching!”
Mac appears from the cave and takes the binocs. Though she has seen and survived many dust storms before, she gives a yell of surprise when she sees what is looming on the southern horizon.
“Oh my God!”
Still far away yet darkening the skies, a wave of radioactive dust and sand stretches out on the horizon. It dwarves the hills as it approaches and the two Stalkers watch it like fishermen would watch a tsunami thundering towards their boat on the open sea. The wall of sand moving towards them must be several hundred meters high. Thunder flashes in the giant wave that’s stirred up by an energy beyond human understanding.
Ahuizotl gabs Mac’s arm. “Back to the cave!” he yells. “Quickly!”
But before he can follow her into the relative safety, something catches his eye in the valley below.
“Look! Headlamps!”
A gale heralds the oncoming dust storm. Mac has to hold on the sniper’s shoulder as she looks in the direction where he is pointing.
A dozen men in heavy combat gear are approaching. They can’t see the dust storm from the bottom of the valley, but must have noticed the sudden gale because they attempt to find shelter.
“Goddammit!” Ahuizotl screams. “It’s a Tribe patrol! The last thing we’re needing now! Come, let’s hide before they see us!”
Mac is already flashing the red light on her torch. “Tribe or not, we must help them!”
“Are you out of your mind? They shoot Stalkers on sight!”
In her excitement, Mac cusses in her mother tongue. “¡Por Dios! They are humans like us, hermano! We must help them!”
“Fuck them! Let’s hide, now!”
By now the Tribals have noticed Mac’s light signals and start running up the hill to the cave, where Mac frantically waves the red flashlight.
“Here! Over here!”
Her voice is carried away by the gale that already swirls up dust and sand at their feet. The radiation meters start crackling. Mac spits dust and quickly pulls the exoskeleton’s hazmat mask over her face. The shapes of the fighters climbing up the hill appear like ghosts in the greenish dim of the NVGs. As if having closed her eyes after looking into strong light, her sight is flickering with millions of tiny stars. She knows it’s photons illuminated by the growing radioactivity.
The first man reaches the cave entrance and rushes inside without saying anything. The second halts and helps the others coming behind him up the last meters. By now the gale has grown so strong by now that it would kick a man off his feet. Several of the fighters are staggering to reach the safety of the cave, but the apparent commander of the patrol maintains his solid stance as he ushers the fighters inside.
A bad feeling comes over Mac and Ahuizotclass="underline" this one must be one of the Tribe’s fearsome Lieutenants, someone that Stalkers have nothing good to hope from. For a moment, Mac almost regrets her moment of compassion.
When the fighter and the two Stalkers finally move into the cave, the once spacious hideout has become packed with the three dozen men inside. Panting is heard through their US-made gas masks; the headlamps and rifle torches illuminate the Tribe’s heavy combat armor.
In a minute, the massive wall of energy hits the valley with a deafening thunder. Yet the Geiger counters don’t start screaming from reading extreme radiation values. The thunder and dust sweeps over the valley as if it would keep its full force to be unleashed later, further to the north. Instead of covering the New Zone with a cloud of destructive force, it just moves on like a wave would sweep over a boat in the sea without sinking it.
The thunder rolls towards the north. The beeping of the Geiger counters lowers and then falls silent.
The two Stalkers and the Tribe fighters eye each other for a moment. Then the patrol commander takes off his protective mask.
“You have our thanks,” he says wiping sweat from his tanned face where Ahuizotl’s headlamp illuminates a pair of blue eyes and several days’ worth of stubble. “I’m Lieutenant Collins. Me and my men are on a special recon mission.”
The sniper looks at him distrustfully. “Hunting for Stalkers?”
“It’s Bandits we’re after, actually,” the Lieutenant says with a grim smile. Noticing Ahuizotl’s long rifle he adds, “Guess that puts us in the same shoes—for now.”
71
Since the Antonov An-24 cargo aircraft took off from the naval base at Sevastopol, Captain Maksimenko’s ears got used to the ear-splitting drone of its two turboprop engines. He had spent the first hour of their flight deep in dark thoughts, his low spirit reflecting the blackness of night outside. Now the first lights of dawn are falling over the snowy peaks of the Northern Caucasus below.
He glances at his watch. The small aircraft would still need about two hours to reach their destination at Termez. To distract himself from being depressed, he powers up his laptop and opens the file of the six soldiers from the punitive battalion who got assigned to his command.
Every convict’s file states chronic disobedience, bullying and drug abuse but some have their specialties.
Private Bronsky, rape and murder of a female medical worker
Private Volkov, assault on a commanding officer
Corporal Maslak, bullying a junior soldier resulting in death
Corporal Kushnik, use of aggressive interrogation methods resulting in death
Sergeant Tokarsky, rape of a junior soldier resulting in serious injury
Staff Sergeant Brechko, dealing with narcotics
Second Lieutenant Wargo, selling military equipment to criminal organizations.
In each file, the laconic headers are followed by a more elaborate description detailing each crime. They are written in the dry language of military prosecutors but even so are gory enough. A note adds, “Convicts have forfeited their ranks and privileges and are to be considered as privates, regardless of former ranks held.”
Maksimenko sighs.
My kind of scum.
He opens the briefing file received from Colonel Kruchelnikov. It contains a detailed description of the New Zone areas that had already been explored, most of it taken from a report by an agent with call sign Renegade. All that Maksimenko knows about him is that the agent was in some way affiliated with the Duty faction, who got the SBU involved when the arms dealing operation they were investigating turned out to be run by corrupt army officers. Maksimenko can well imagine that the sudden disappearance of Colonel Kuznetsov and General-Major Khaletskiy, two infamously corrupt officers, might be connected to the outcome of that operation.
His hopes of Kruchelnikov restraining himself from adding a last biting comment proves to be in vain, but at least it also contains a hint.