Immediately after the meeting ended, we followed Valerian into his private room-office. There, he immediately put a kettle on to boil, connected to one of the many extension cords powered by the running generator. Waiting for us to sit around the table, and placing cups in front of us, Valerian sits down himself.
"Well, what do you think?" he begins, looking at us intently.
"Shit," Shilov exhales quietly, and Yakut and I nod reluctantly; there's no other way to put it.
"We're in trouble, brothers," Valerian continues, tapping his finger on the table. "But there's nothing to be done; we'll have to get out of it. So, listen. Khaletsky, according to all indications, sold Berkut out to the bandits, and they, in turn, organized an ambush, and the rest is clear. I suspect they didn't hand over the case to Khaletsky immediately; they'll want to negotiate and get a better price."
"Why do you think so?" Shilov interrupts him, leaning back in his chair and sighing heavily. "They killed our guys, dumped the case in some bush, where the soldiers will pick it up, and that's it,
no problems."
"Because bandits are bastards who are never satisfied," the leader replies, scratching the stubble on his cheek. "They won't part with an important case for Khaletsky just like that; they'll try to get more. They won't be brazen, of course, but they'll get their share, that's for sure. This means we have some time. But we can't delay; who knows, they might agree on a price right away."
The kettle boils here, and Valerian leaves his place to pour tea. The room fills with the aroma of black tea in paper bags. I add a couple of sugar cubes, stir, and take a cautious sip. Not sweet enough, I throw in another cube and try again. Just right.
"Yakut, pick a few guys," the stalker continues, sipping his tea. "Today, you'll be on duty at the novice village; there's a good view of the checkpoint there; you'll see any military movement immediately. I'll arrange with Wolf; a place to sleep will be found. As soon as you see anything, signal us. Understand?"
"Yes, sir," Yakut replies with a short smile, continuing to stir the dark red liquid.
"Now you, Executioner," Valerian addresses me. "You'll be on standby for Yakut, and if things get hot, you'll cover the guys with your optics. This is your chance to prove yourself, so we're all counting on you. Don't let us down, okay?"
"I'll do my best."
"Shilov, you'll provide Yakut with everything necessary. Ammunition, provisions, medicine, in short, everything," he addresses the trader. "By the way, do we have a ghillie suit in the warehouse?"
"There are a couple, old ones though, but they'll do," Shilov replies.
"Pick a suitable one for Executioner, just in case."
"No problem," the trader nods readily.
After sitting and drinking tea in silence for a while longer, we disperse. Shilov and Yakut immediately went to the warehouse to prepare for Khaletsky's capture, and I was left to my own devices. Maybe I should go see Furgon and help him with something? Skill training, after all. And then I can sell the hide to Shilov.
By the way, the functionality of the repair skill turned out to be much broader than I initially assumed. It seemed to only concern weapons, but no. As soon as I leveled it up to experienced rank, my head was immediately filled with information about everything a little bit. A bit of construction, tailoring and sewing, welding, and much more. Just the basics, allowing for minimal repairs, not getting hurt, and not ruining everything completely. A very useful skill that will allow me to do without external technicians.
A few hours later, a small detachment and I were heading to the novice village. Besides Yakut and me, there were also Blin and Batut in this detachment. And if the former was chosen by Valerian's right-hand man, the latter volunteered, and with particular zeal. Apparently, either Berkut or one of his men was Batut's comrade.
As we approached a discarded wagon near the tunnel under the road, the sound of a working engine came from somewhere ahead. A vehicle. I jump over the guardrail and roll down the grassy slope, where I immediately hide under the concrete arches of the tunnel. The other stalkers follow my example.
A minute later, a car drives over us, noticeably slowing down to avoid anomalies, and I cautiously peek out onto the road.
"Military," I whisper quietly to my companions about the green UAZ I saw.
"What are we waiting for," Batut whispers menacingly, disengaging the safety on his assault rifle and chambering a round. "Let's take them right now!"
"Quiet," Yakut whispers back, grabbing his elbow and holding him in place. "We'll take them when they're returning with the case. Then we'll take them."
"But..."
"No buts, Batut!" the stalker hisses, taking out his PDA. "We're acting according to Valerian's plan, and no improvisation. I'll write to him now..."
Then Yakut types a message to Valerian, and his reply is not long in coming. The stalker leader orders us to urgently return to the railway bridge and set up an ambush for Khaletsky there. It's strange, of course, but at least we won't have to drag him to the base for long.
"And what if we don't make it before he arrives?" Blin asks.
"He won't pass us by," the Asian stalker chuckles. "There's only one normal road here; if we go along it, we definitely won't miss him. And if we don't manage to set up an ambush, we'll just shoot out the tires. At the tires, Batut, if I notice even a couple of dents on the body..."
"Yeah, I got it, don't get worked up," the other stalker replies, putting his assault rifle behind his back. "Shall we go?"
Fifteen minutes later, we were already in place. It was decided that I, with my sniper rifle, would hide on top of the railway bridge and give the signal when I saw Khaletsky's car approaching. The others would hide below and run out onto the road as soon as I shot out the car's wheel. If I missed, the others would cover me and shoot out the wheels themselves.
Taking a radio from Yakut for quick communication, I head upstairs, pulling on a gas mask along the way. It will be inconvenient to aim and talk, of course, but getting irradiated by the humming metal is not a good idea. I finally climb to the top, stepping on rotten sleepers, and think about where to settle. After standing for a while, I walk around a red-orange wagon, whose paint has long lost its brightness and has already begun to peel off.
I take a camouflage cloak out of my backpack and pack it into a plastic bag, placing it on the ground to serve as a knee pad. For now, I just sit on it, turning towards the neutral base, which looks like palms from here. I could see the stalkers sitting by the fire, warming their bones, as it was quite cool today, even though it's summer. It's strange that Valerian hadn't stationed men here earlier; it's a very convenient position for shelling stalkers. But he probably couldn't have imagined being stabbed in the back by a business partner.
Fortunately, I didn't have to wait long for Khaletsky. In the distance, a green UAZ with a folding roof, which was currently retracted, and the emblem of the Armed Forces of Ukraine on its side appeared. The major himself, lounging comfortably in the back seat, was talking on the radio to someone.
"Be ready," I quietly say into my radio. "The major is in sight, he'll be here in a couple of minutes."
"Roger," Yakut's voice hisses from the radio.
I quickly take up a position overlooking the elevator and pick up my rifle. I disengage the safety, check for a round in the chamber, and am ready to fire. The engine noise rapidly approaches until it slows down right beneath me. It's difficult to drive past this huge pile of construction and other bulky debris. So my chance is to shoot before the car gains speed.
I take a deep breath, holding my breath. I wait. Here comes the nose of the swaying car, then the crown of the driver's head and another soldier, then Khaletsky, and finally, the car fully emerges. It's time. I quickly aim the weapon at the left rear wheel and fire. I ignore the loud gunshot and the strong jolt in my shoulder from the recoil, simply work the bolt, ejecting the casing, and chambering a round, preparing to fire again. If necessary.
Startled, the driver jerks, twisting the steering wheel, and the car, at full speed as much as possible, crashes into a thick oak tree growing by the right side of the road. The soldiers haven't even had time to understand what's happening when the stalkers jump up and leap onto the road, rushing towards the car. Yakut reaches the car in a few long strides, opens the door, and yanks Khaletsky out onto the ground by his collar.
He tries to resist and even reaches for his pistol, but his resistance is soon suppressed – Batut comes to his aid, delivering a powerful kick to the major's hand and knocking the pistol out of it. Then the stalker lands a couple of kicks to the soldier's ribs, and Khaletsky realizes that resistance is futile. At the same time, Blin arrives, taking aim at Khaletsky, while no one except me pays attention to the soldiers who tried to get out of the car unnoticed.
The two soldiers scatter in different directions. The driver, almost stumbling, ran straight towards the checkpoint, and the second headed for the eastern tunnel on the border of the Cordon. And why? I aim my weapon at the driver, taking aim, and raise my radio:
"What about the escapees?" I ask Yakut, not understanding why they let these soldiers get away.
"Leave them," he replies, straightening up. "Conscripts, what can you expect from them, let them run."
"As you say," I say, lowering my rifle. "Should I come down?"
"No, we'll handle it here," the stalker waves dismissively. "Go report to Valerian, let him meet us with the catch."
"Understood."
I sling my rifle over my shoulder, shove the bag with the camouflage cloak back into my backpack, and quickly head for the stalker base. It's a stone's throw from here, so in a few minutes, I'm knocking on Valerian's office door.
"Enter," the stalker leader's voice comes from behind the door.
I open the door slightly and enter, watching Valerian, nose buried in documents, working at his desk. I approach closer as the stalker looks up at me and his eyes widen in surprise.
"We took Khaletsky," I manage to say before Valerian opens his mouth to ask what the hell I'm doing here. "The guys are already bringing him here."
"Real eagles!" Valerian grins broadly, slapping his palm on the table. "Let's go see if the cage for this rat is ready."
I wait for Valerian to get up from his chair and head for the office exit, then follow him. But as soon as we step outside, it begins. An emission. A powerful tremor from underground almost makes me fall as I shift my weight from one foot to the other. The stalker leader, walking beside me, manages to catch me by the elbow and literally drags me with him under the arches of the building
where the future cage for Khaletsky was located.
"Everyone to cover!" Valerian shouts loudly, briefly peeking outside. "Damn it! If it's not one thing, it's another! Don't close the door until Yakut and the guys run inside!"
"Is this an emission?" I whisper, watching all the stalkers in the camp bustle about, hastily extinguishing fires and literally running into the building.
"Of course," one of the stalkers grins, approaching me from behind and placing a hand on my shoulder. "Look how the sky is filling with a crimson glow. It'll hit any second now."
The sky, once blue and full of clouds, has now turned red. Crimson flashes appear here and there, crisscrossing the heavens. The clouds have evaporated, and the earth is shaking with numerous tremors, not as strong as the first. A loud, growing hum is added, which, with each second, resonates louder in my ears. A very beautiful, but incredibly terrifying sight.
"Why now? There are still a month and a half until the emission," someone says from behind me. "Damn eggheads..."
"Will they make it?" another stalker begins.
"Of course, they'll make it," the confident voice of Furgon replies. "It's only a two-minute walk, they'll make it."
And in confirmation of the technician's words, several heavily breathing stalkers tumble into the building. Yakut and the others really had to run at full speed, carrying the unconscious major, to make it in time. After taking a few steps inside, they drop their burden on the floor.
They made it.