Tarasov is relieved when they leave the room. “I supposed you don’t have any alcohol in here.”
“We don’t but you can have a fix of caffeine. Hillbilly, Polak! Don’t stand there supporting that wall, it won’t collapse without you leaning against it. Show our friend to the next coffee machine and make sure he gets a real one. He’ll put his finger inside and if it doesn’t burn his skin off, I’ll get you reprimanded!”
“Aye, sir!”
“There’s something we need to discuss, Top!” Tarasov says.
“Later.”
Hartman hurries off. Brother Hillbilly gives Tarasov a gloomy smile.
“Our coffee recipe is classified beyond top secret but since the Top vouches for you, probably you can have one.”
“Only if no one gets hurt in the process,” Tarasov replies.
“Depends on who’s drinking it,” Brother Polak says as they walk down a narrow corridor. “It’s not for the faint at heart.”
“You know what that Scottish guy keeps telling me? That back in Somalia he once killed a whole bunch of skinnies with his coffee. Made it so strong that they got a heart attack.”
“Come on, Brother Hillbilly. I’m not buying that.”
He courteously opens a door to Tarasov and they enter a small, undecorated room where a few plastic chairs are the only sign of comfort. There is a chromed espresso machine on a table next to the wall that is decorated with an NRA poster. Tarasov finds the smell of freshly boiled coffee more than relaxing, as well as seeing Nooria and Pete sitting there. The Colonel’s son has a grin all over his face.
“That thing looks like a spaceship from an old sci-fi flick but makes decent coffee. Help yourself,” Brother Polak says. “We need to do a little clean-up after the recruiting. If you miss our company, we should be back soon. We’ll both deserve a cup of good coffee afterwards, don’t we Brother Hillbilly?”
“You bet, Brother Polak. I hate that part of the job.”
“Let’s get that shit done.”
Tarasov steps to the espresso machine. “I haven’t got the faintest idea how to use this.”
“Let me help you,” Pete says getting up from his chair. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, why?”
“You’re looking like shit.”
“It’s just that the Top reminded me of what the Tribe is about, actually.”
“And? What is it about?”
“The best people I have ever known doing the greatest evil I have ever seen to achieve something that’s beyond my comprehension.”
“I’ll need another coffee to understand even half of what you just said.”
“Suffice to say, your father holds the greatest imaginable power over people on this planet. God have mercy on him if his power ultimately turns into evil. I’m afraid he has no soul anymore, though… unless you give it back to him.”
Pete chuckles. “Sounds like mission impossible. Though he used to be normal once… I think I can faintly remember him petting a dog twenty years ago.”
“What have you two been doing?”
“Being bored to death. My only entertainment is to see the self-proclaimed saviors of America hiding in this concrete warren like a bunch of rabbits.”
“Soon you’ll see them from a different angle, Pete… Thanks, that much coffee should be enough.”
“Are we going back?” Nooria asks, barely able to conceal her hope for a positive answer.
“Yes, Nooria… but we’ll make a detour. Let’s go, we need to have a word with Hartman.”
They find the Top at the computer terminal where he and the No-Go are going through some Excel sheets displayed on the screen.
“I feel for you,” Tarasov says. “Guess you hate administration.”
“Yeah, making inventory is a pain in the ass,” Hartman agrees with a grimace. “Thanks God I’ll take the newcomers to a few days boot camp. I love boot camp. You will fly back to the Alamo with Nooria and Pete. Bringing him back to his father will complete your mission, Mikhailo.”
“Not exactly,” Tarasov says sipping his coffee. “My deal with the Colonel was to tell Pete everything I know and have seen about the Tribe. Taking Pete back goes beyond that.”
“I love you, dude!” Pete shouts happily. “I don’t want to go there!”
The Top frowns. “Zip it, Pete. You want to stay here in California where the whole Florencia gang is hunting you now? I know you can’t turn to the police either. Don’t give me such a look! I know you’re wanted for one case of aggravated assault, two cases of attempted robbery and about a dozen times of petty theft. I wouldn’t want to have the choices you’d have if you stayed, son.”
“Do you have any idea how much I needed the money?”
“You will go back to your father. Period.”
“He is not yet ready to face him, Top,” Tarasov interjects.
“The hell he ain’t.”
“Listen, Top. Something has come up and we’ll make a little detour. I will take him to my kind of boot camp.”
“What? To the Ukrainian army? You gotta be kidding me.”
“An old friend of mine is in trouble in the Exclusion Zone. I must go back there, just for a short time, and will take Pete with me. Once we’re done there, he’ll be more than ready to meet his father.”
Surprised and terrified at the same time, Pete looks at Nooria. “Hope at least you’ve got your wits together! What do you think of this craziness?”
“I’ll follow my man wherever he goes, Pete,” Nooria smiles. “And to be honest, I’m excited about seeing his homeland.”
“Your enthusiasm is duly noted, Nooria, but I might have a problem with that plan,” Hartman says.
“Nothing to be worried about, Top. I will bring Pete and Nooria safely back to your Alamo but we’ll take a little detour on our way.”
“I don’t doubt you’re more than capable of keeping them safe, but I have my own orders from the big man.”
“About bringing him back?”
“About protecting him and Nooria, with my life and even against you if need be.”
“You’ll need to shoot me if you want to stop me.”
“Why is this guy so important to you, anyway?” the Top says wrinkling his forehead.
“I got two messages from him. The first was about something important he wanted to discuss with me. My friend, Strelok is his name, is one of the greatest Stalkers who have ever walked the Exclusion Zone. Suffice to say, the Zone has a dark history with all kinds of experiments conducted there first by the Soviets, then by the Ukrainian government.” Tarasov stops for a heartbeat before he continues. “Strelok knows all the secrets, or at least most of them and if he says something is important, I better believe him.”
“But why you?” Hartman asks. “He couldn’t possibly know if you’re alive at all.”
Tarasov nods. “Yes, this crossed my mind already. Sounds like he’s desperate. Because a few days later he sent me another message, telling he’s in danger with Ukrainian KGB looking for him.”
“Could be a trap to lure you back,” Hartman says.
“Maybe, but there’s another possibility,” Tarasov replies stirring the coffee in his cup. “There’s more connections between the two Zones than one could imagine.”
“Like what?”
“Well… without going too far into esoteric stuff, one thing comes to my mind. Secret experiments conducted in the Exclusion Zone were partly responsible for what it became. We know they began in the mid-Nineties but such science doesn’t come from nowhere. Maybe Strelok thinks I’ve found an early X-lab in the New Zone, or even knows about one. Don’t know… just speculating.”