Balázs Pataki - S.T.A.L.K.E.R. - Northern Passage

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 Ahuizotl: 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.”

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.

Maksimenko. I would sleep much better if the Russians accidentally downed your airplane like they did with one of our civilian jets a few years ago. They would do us the favor of getting the earth rid of our country’s worst scum, led by my Service’s biggest idiot. However, to justify the costs of sending you there I must give you at least a slight chance to succeed.

The documents obtained by Strelok in Lab X-18 two years ago were incomplete. However, I know that missing parts refer to a facility maintained in Afghanistan during the war, evacuated when Operation Magistral failed. Its code was X-1 and the research leader was Professor Chubko. We cannot exclude the possibility that Strelok has handed that intel to Tarasov or, what would be worse, the Americans. You better hope that he will show up there. The current state of that facility is unknown. Location coordinates are 35°16′44.22″ N and 69°28′48.92″ E.

If you manage to stop Tarasov by whatever means necessary, maybe I’ll grease the wheels where I can to prevent you from punitive discharge — and worse.

The Captain’s thoughts move back to his last assignment in the Exclusion Zone. Acting on orders of Kruchelnikov, he led a search group on a thorough investigation into the activities at the Agroprom Research Institute back in May 2012, code named Project Truth. It revealed that the Institute was in fact a front for clandestine research conducted in the Exclusion Zone. However, further investigation was blocked by Lab X-18 being inaccessible at that time. Acting on a tip-off by Zone trader Sidorovich, the military launched a frantic operation to intercept Strelok who managed to find a way into the vaults, but he blasted his way through the Spetsnaz commando and escaped with any information he found there.

Recalling his successful mission puts the Captain in a somewhat better mood. It now appears to him that the sinister story behind the secret laboratories continues after being bogged down for two frustratingly long years.

They started experiments in Afghanistan. When the war was lost, they moved to the Exclusion Zone to carry on the research in all secrecy. Lab X-18 was the missing link. Now the circle is complete — I will not only settle scores with Tarasov but also bring Project Truth to its conclusion. It will be more than enough to redeem myself.

“Thinking of your girlfriend, eh? I guess she’s a tasty little dish!”

Maksimenko stirs. “What?”

He glances at the Spetsnaz who grins at him from the opposite side of the cabin. He is a tall and brawny man with a look on his face that betrays a knack for violence. Sergeant Vlasov sits next, keeping a weary eye on him.

The Captain quickly looks into the personal files with the photographs. The disrespectful soldier is the private who, according to his file, had raped a nurse in an ambulance before beating her unconscious and setting the car on fire to conceal the crime as an accident. Maksimenko feels nausea stirring up in his guts and not because of a sudden turbulence.

“What’s your problem, Bronsky?”

“You looked gloomy, komandir. Now you smile. Maybe she is smiling too with some lucky guys banging her, while you fly with us to the hell on earth!”