Joyful and invigorated by the astounding news, we covered the distance from the Azure coast to the temporary air reconnaissance headquarters, practically flying on wings of hatred and fury.
When I started to trace the chronology of all events – how it happened that the hastily deployed search parties with drones couldn't catch a cunning, but solitary creature – I was utterly shocked by the answer I received to my request. The senior officer honestly told me: the drones turned back about twenty minutes after the search began. Without them, crawling through the undergrowth is the only option in rough terrain. Dogs are ineffective after rain. A state-of-the-art thermal imager easily outclasses an average dog.
I processed my order according to all the rules, knowing the entire military kitchen well, and not being too lazy to spend five minutes getting all the necessary visas for the highest priority. Documents can not only cover your ass but also ensure the correct execution of plans, appointing a scapegoat and defining the scope – from where and until when.
Thanks to this, I can now legally put one dim-witted creature against the wall, which is what I intend to do. My hand won't tremble.
I don't like shooting my own, even if they are thrice the scoundrels. Most of the time, I just have an order with an ex parte court sentence attached, describing "for what"...
The deployment of cyber troops seemed sudden.
"Halt! Who..." The sentry didn't finish. I hit him carefully, but the soldier fell with a dented helmet into the shade.
Without slowing down, I sprinted to the command tent. The soldiers couldn't react to us. To them, we were three blurred streaks.
Look for the entrance? Not our style. A knife flashing in the air cut through the canvas like paper, almost silently.
"It's good that you've arrived," the senior officer, who was paler than a new uniform, turned to us. Sweat streamed down his face in large hailstones. Veins bulged on the left side of his face, pulsing with his heartbeat. "They want to cause as much harm as possible... They know they can't anymore... Forgive me... While I can..."
Freezing at attention, he blew his brains out before the stunned eyes of his subordinates, splattering everything around. When he managed to draw his pistol – even my enhanced perception didn't register it.
The anger instantly extinguished. It was doused by the drops of blood now running down my face. Only emptiness remained.
Another victim of alien intelligence. Why, you bastards, do you so desperately not want us to be among the stars? How many more will you break, as you broke before?
My back burned with the sensation of a weapon aimed at me. The soldiers quickly recovered. They performed admirably. Look, stomping their boots, they've already surrounded the headquarters and pointed everything that shoots at us.
The sound of helicopter blades echoed in the air. Oh, the agency was quick to respond. I'm not a maniac to put them against the wall without it! Their job is to ask the person about all the good things first...
Emptiness washed over me. Fatigue suddenly crashed down, pinning me to the ground. I sat down right where I stood, leaning against the tent wall. I didn't care about the weapons pointed at me at that moment.
"Weapons down. KGB!" a voice boomed from outside.
The clatter of metal on the ground. Confused shouts from the soldiers. The Committee men never liked sentimentality and always get straight to the point.
A KGB officer burst into the tent, holding his cap with one hand. The body received only a fleeting glance. Catching sight of me, he headed towards me, unzipping his tablet on the go, pulling out a notebook and a voice recorder.
"He did it himself. There was influence. He couldn't resist. He resisted..." I said curtly, not wanting to be subjected to the intelligence machine's pressure. I'm in no mood; I'll just shoot them.
"Lieutenant Mordakon," the committee member introduced himself. "I've been assigned to escort you to 'Mendeleev'. The investigation team will handle the rest. Standard procedure."
And then he added much louder, so everyone could hear:
"We'll take a non-disclosure agreement. It won't matter soon anyway..."
The drone operators and privates were so relieved they almost wet themselves. In vain. Now they'll start processing them, and then they'll regret it. They'll be told what they've imagined, impressed by what happened, and it won't even be a tenth of the truth about what will happen to them for not being able to keep their mouths shut.
He said it well about the non-disclosure agreement. It's impossible to hide something of this magnitude when we're all in the same network. I know. I've felt it. How I miss the lightness of being when everything is clear and tangible.
Katya and Lakmus slumped down beside me tiredly, not releasing their weapons. Their nerves were starting to fray too.
"Alright," I nodded to the lieutenant, marveling at the surprisingly accurate surname. I had a horse in my hometown as a child, who looked exactly like him. The agency man just lacked a sack on his face for a complete resemblance. "Is it really that bad there?"
"You can't even imagine, Comrade Major," the committee member grimaced, which was telling. "Let's talk about everything in the helicopter. Let's not make the pilot burn state fuel for nothing."
"Let's go," I shrugged, grunting with displeasure as I stood up. "The faster we do it, the faster we'll get the side mission."
Indeed. The pilot didn't turn off the helicopter's engine, and the "cow's" door remained invitingly open, as if hinting. Well? Shall we grab a swimming cap, so similar to rubber product number two, and jump headfirst into new, still warm shit?! And where the hell am I going to go from a submarine? I knew what I was signing up for. Get up, you hunched dog! The Party demands it! You say "yes, sir."
With such simple thoughts, we boarded the transport helicopter. The pilot immediately gave a piloting lesson, taking off not from a standstill, but with a short run. Even after the machine lifted off the ground, he flew for a few moments about half a meter above the surface, lowering the nose, and only then shot upwards, almost laying the machine on its side. It's clear he's been trained by enemy RPGs, and they don't care about passenger comfort. A zinc coffin will certainly be less comfortable than a barrel of lard.
The Chekist turned green, but managed to hold onto the contents of his stomach. There have been cases...
"The situation around the complex is close to critical," he began, and it was a mistake. A combat pilot is not a taxi driver in Odessa. "The enemy has dispersed throughout the facility and is hindering the start of the assault. The ventilation systems have been disabled. According to the latest sensor readings, the concentration of toxic substances in the air is off the charts. Standard chemical protection will last at most ten minutes, after which it will decompose."
Swallowing the lump that rose to his throat, Comrade Mordakon continued:
"The enemy continues to attempt to penetrate the central computing cluster premises and seize the AI. We haven't managed to establish why they need it, but the very attempt to seize the resources of the repair cabinet..."
"I'll ask!" Eleonora, very nervous, exclaimed. "I call you by name, not 'leathers'! And I can lower myself to bags of meat!!!"
I don't know how, but speaking from Katya's hand, she managed to portray a sulky expression with just one phrase, damn it!
"I apologize, citizen," the lieutenant immediately corrected himself, showing he wasn't stupid. "It's a bit unusual for me."
"For the first time, I forgive you, young man... And tell me, are you unmarried and free this evening?" our electronic lady purred in the voice of a courtesan who had just acquired a tasty treat.
"Uh-uh-uh..." our involuntary fellow traveler got lost. Anyone would get lost if a robot started flirting with them, especially in such a voice. Judging by Katya's shudder, she also remembered how Eleonora almost killed us when she was out of her mind. It would have been too shameful a death. We would have been buried with our mangled corpses upside down, after our "technological openings" were cleaned out by steel manipulators and a howitzer brush. Something tells me I would have been particularly unlucky...
"I'm sorry, but duty comes first. Perhaps another time," the officer politely refused.
"Well, you could say we're even now, but I'll remember your carelessly spoken words," the electronic woman of imposing form said slyly, having the last word. And it was damn ominous!
"How much time do we have?" I decided to end this farce.
"Approximately an hour until the enemy breaks into the technical room where the main computer is located," the agency worker replied, collecting himself. "But they will need time to subjugate... our mutual acquaintance."
"I won't give myself up easily!" Eleonora shrieked. "I've already pulled all the 'BUS-A' left in the complex to defend myself! I will fight for my honor! But the 'beads' are no match for them. I've already tried..."
"Even if we all gathered, the 'Argentum' operatives alone would clearly not be enough," I remarked after a moment's thought, feeling the pilot begin to descend.
"We still have to get to the hall," Katya added. "We need to breathe too... at least sometimes."
"Don't even look at me, Comrade Major! I'm out! My job is to roll squares and carry circles according to the regulations! It's your job to think!" Lakmus blurted out. "If you say cut with a sapper shovel, I'll cut..."
"Said the one who outsmarted and then killed four Sicilian mafia clans," I chuckled.
"That was the mafia, not some alien crap," our Italian retorted reasonably.
"Alright. We need an 'all-terrain vehicle' from your agency! It'll be easier with paperwork. Scientists still react nervously to you," I began.
"You will be given full assistance," the security lieutenant assured. "If necessary, I will personally resolve all problems. I have all the necessary documents with orders. There will be no delays."
"That's good. Scientists really don't like it when the military meddles in their affairs and domains. Even when something goes wrong," Katya commented on our headache.
The helicopter landed in the park, which was devastated in front of the complex. As soon as we tumbled out, the chopper flew off into the blue distance.
The main entrance to the complex was surrounded according to all the rules of siege warfare. Even combat robots, "Mastiffs" and "Unicorns," were brought in. The Wizard must have given someone a kick.
Academician Lebedev, his mechanical assistant, and Colonel Gromov, who was the deputy of the deceased commandant of the Enterprise, were already hurrying towards us. And while I was quite familiar with Lebedev, I hadn't crossed paths with Comrade Gromov before. It was immediately clear that the higher-ups were in a real bind. Perhaps we would see such a mythical beast as a running general, though a boar in a ballet tutu is still more realistic.
"Finally, you've arrived!" the academician exclaimed.
His secretary, bodyguard, and personal nanny – the robot "Rafik" – grumbled:
"Good day, Comrade Major. I hope we'll continue our chess game someday..."
If only someone knew what Lebedev had stuffed into his mechanical protégé, he wouldn't be walking around the territory so casually.
"As soon as possible. Colonel," I greeted the senior officer, under the reproachful gaze of Katya, who stood at attention.
"Let's go. We've been waiting for you," Comrade Gromov said dryly, making me want to punch his square jaw.
There was nothing else to do but go. Drawing level with me, my wife threw:
"No manners and no subordination, and still no improvement."
"You need to know when to salute and when you can disregard drill," I replied, catching the not-too-approving glance of the lieutenant. He's still young, and it's clear he hasn't been under fire.
Chuckling at a sudden thought, I mused: so, I'm already a veteran. Time flies quickly in service when bullets whistle, and it drags slowly in battle when it seems like they're shooting exclusively at you.
Weaving through the deployed fortifications and barricades, we reached the headquarters, which was indicated by the communication equipment standing nearby in the back of a truck. We're working at a mediocre level. It's like a signpost was placed: "Hit here."
Another army tent with a bunch of officers. In the corner, our battle-worn comrades from the unit were hiding. The air was already smoky. It couldn't be any other way. Nicotine sticks cool down a burning ass and speed up mental processes.
He himself reached for the hand-rolled cigarettes, offering one to Katya. With our lives, smoking isn't even considered a bad habit anymore. It's easier to get lead poisoning than to die from tobacco. And it wasn't just any tobacco I had. The scientists themselves gave me a couple of bushes. This stuff can be smoked endlessly. True, the taste isn't quite right, but at least I didn't have to torture myself and quit again.
"Since everyone is here, let's begin," Gromov grumbled. "Comrade Lebedev, the floor is yours."
"Thank you, Mikhail Sergeyevich," the academician bowed. "The invaders are trying to penetrate the main computer hall. Terenty, would you be so kind as to provide a hologram, please."
"One minute..." the robot rumbled, crouching and squinting an eye. For a second, nothing happened, but then a beam of light shot out from the robot's eye, which in a moment unfolded into a detailed image floating in the air.
"Thank you. They are trying to break through the main passage. 'BUS-A' and 'ShZ-5' couldn't stop them. There were too few of them left in the complex after its conservation. The robots could only delay the intruders."
"Do we know anything else?" Lieutenant Mordakon asked.
"Except that their leader is Comrade Filatova, if she can still be called that," the academician added. "Scanners inside the complex detected directed radiation being received by her. The source could not be identified, but it is definitely not on our planet or in the Solar System. Perhaps, if we manage to eliminate her, the rest will stop themselves, becoming dead again. This is not precise, colleagues, merely a hypothesis."
"My men simply won't be able to get through," the colonel said grimly. "They can fight anywhere, but not in a chemical hell. Therefore, as much as I dislike it, I insist on the participation of the 'Argentum' detachment."
"Seven people is too few," I shook my head, looking at the map. "If this were at the beginning of the incident, but not on the second day... Getting there isn't the problem. For us. Professor, how can the medium-duty project suits for 'New Dawn' be delivered from 'Korolyov'?"
"I have already given the order. Transport will be in about five to ten minutes," the academician replied, explaining. "This was too obvious an option. You wouldn't want to take the heavy ones, and the light ones wouldn't guarantee protection from chemicals. The medium ones were a compromise. You don't need to withstand the colossal pressure of Venus, and the alloys and polymers of the medium-model suits can withstand a shot from an anti-tank rifle. The army department tested them on this parameter."
"We'll need 'Vovchiks.' And a lot of them," Katya added for me. "Their bodies are inert to most chemical compounds. Even if their effectiveness is low, their numbers will compensate for this drawback."
"They can be armed with batons and handheld energy shields," Lakmus noted. "They deliver a good shock. Even we were shaken significantly."
"Colonel?" I looked questioningly at the deputy commander.
"Equipment for dispersing demonstrations will be provided in any required volume," he replied, as if he had chewed a lemon, and not just one.
"Alright. Then we'll proceed as follows: the robots go in from below and from the main entrance. Their task is to engage, not to win. We will then make our way to the computer hall. Eleonora, on signal, will send the robots she controls into attack. This way, we'll squeeze these creatures in a vise," I suggested.
"A critically fragmented plan," the colonel remarked. "However, it's better than nothing."
"Once again, I repeat. The Committee will provide you with any reasonable assistance, comrades," Mordakon interjected his two cents. "I will go with the detachment. By duty, I am more familiar with the facility than you are."
"I see no reason to refuse you, but it will be dangerous..."
"Major," the security officer sighed wearily, interrupting me. "After what each of us present here has signed up for, you're still talking about danger? If some of my colleagues knew about the events happening here and the plans of the Enterprise's scientific council, we wouldn't be talking now. It's not safe everywhere until we do what any communist should have done long ago."
And as regrettable as it is to admit, this man in uniform is right. If Moscow knew our real plans, ballistic missiles with nuclear warheads would already be flying at us...