The Siberian Incident 2 Page 13

"You're providing the Russian government with some seriously advanced technology Colin. Do you ever think of the ethics of that? After you bribed your way to an acquittal in 2014, you come here and what do you do. Give the Russians some kind of Jurassic Park genetic tech. I'm not sure what you did to make these yetis, to bring back these prehistoric men, but I can guarantee you didn't ever think of the ethics of that either. Do you know that these creatures you brought back from extinction have a religion, a living goddess, a culture? And you've got them living out here on this preserve, and you're playing some kind of game with these other ones and creating wars between them? What's the end game here, Colin? You just like to control people so much that you had to bring two cultures back so you could inflict your twisted will on them?"

  "What the fuck, Scott? You sure are self-righteous for an accountant," Colin's irritation grew as Scott spoke, "No, I'm not just here to play games with these yetis, as you call them. Both of these groups aren't even related to humans if you have a problem with that."

  "Oh, yeah, then it's fine, Colin. They're just sentient and self-aware enough to create a religion, aside from being extremely protective and caring for human beings. What's the problem with creating a warring, violent version of them and pitting them against each other. What are you doing here?" Scott growled.

  "If you have to know, this is about so much more than the yetis," Colin remarked.

  "Oh, we figured that out Colin, you shouldn't leave your notes lying around this place. You do this because you want to be immortal," Maddock now spoke.

  "No, Uncle Maddock, the biohacking element of this is just the beginning. We're going to disrupt soldiering with these Magadan yetis. The latest experiments have finally produced better warriors. We've released this tribe, and we expect them to make contact with the Snow Yeti tribe soon. We're also on the verge of being able to control them, to give them orders which they follow better than any other soldier. When we're able to teach them to wield a weapon and an army of these marches into battle, they'll be unstoppable," Colin unable to hide his smile.

  "That's the stupidest fucking thing I have ever heard, disrupting soldiering?" Maddock said, "You have no clue, you idiot. You Silicon Valley types like to develop all of these technologies without giving any thought to what will happen when human beings really start using the things you develop, do you? You're members of Mensa, but you're the biggest morons ever, and then when your tech kills someone, you stand there with your dick in your hand, dumbfounded that you hadn't thought that far when you were blinded by your VC cash."

  Colin grew redder and redder as Maddock spoke, he drew back his hand and slapped Maddock across the face.

  "Shut the fuck up Maddock, I'm talking to Scott!" Colin exclaimed as the impact of his palm strike echoed off the cinder block walls of the room.

  Then Maddock did something unexpected, he fell off his chair and began to cry. Sitting on the floor, he rocked with his hands behind his back. Scott was shocked, all of the pressure and stress must have finally gotten to Maddock. He was in the midst of a nervous breakdown. Colin ignored the sobs which were coming out of Maddock's mouth as he rocked back and forth like a man who was no longer there.

  Colin picked up the file given to him by the Russian officer. He looked through the pages some more as he shook his head, "Weren't you married?" He asked Scott as Maddock's whimpering continued.

  "No, that didn't happen," Scott replied.

  "Alright, well good. Two bachelors, this will be easy. Look, I am not going to let them shoot you guys. I don't want to shoot you. I'm in the process of bringing my mom and dad over here, I don't think they'd be too happy if you guys showed up dead and I was somehow involved. We'll straighten out what is going on here, but you guys are just going to have to stay in Russia now. I can't have you going back to the states and take the chance that you tell someone about what you've seen here. You may not understand it, but you've stumbled onto a project that you should not know about. You know things now that you cannot know. I'm going to get asked to kill you. If you go back to the states, there will be guys with umbrellas that inject ricin balls around every corner."

  Colin referred to Georgi Markov, a Bulgarian novelist who was murdered by an assassin who stuck him with an umbrella that injected a ball full of the poison ricin into his skin.

  "No, I can't stay here!" Maddock shrieked in a voice that Scott considered uncharacteristically screechy.

  "It'll be fine, you'll be my guests, Uncle Maddock. I got a dacha north of Vladivostok, you can stay there, drink vodka, workout. I'll just tell the family that you're doing my accounting, and Maddock is the head of my security team at this place."

  "No! No! No!" Maddock screamed, he continued his rocking now in rhythm to his exclamation of no's.

  "Listen, I'm sorry, it is the only way. I'm telling you, I'll take care of you guys, you're family," Colin said.

  Maddock sat on the ground rocking, he just kept saying "No. No. No. No," over and over.

  Scott was bewildered by this behavior, Maddock had seemed to be in control and hadn't let any of the other setbacks affect him like this. He must have finally been broken.

  "Jesus Colin, be a human, something is wrong with him, get him some water," Scott urged.

  "Yeah, okay. Look, I believe you probably had no clue why you were brought here Scott. He used you so it looked like a legitimate trip. I know you're not used to these things being an accountant and all. I'm sure you're behind a desk, figuring out itemizations all day, but this guy is dangerous. Your grandpa warned me about him. I'm just going to have the guys take him to the dacha now. We'll tranq him, and you can tell me anything you know about what he was doing here."

  "Okay, sure, Colin," Scott said, trying to figure a way out of this predicament. The one person who could have helped him was now a frothing, mess, lying on the floor. He had to think hard and quickly about how to fix this situation.

  Maddock's strange behavior became increasingly erratic. Scott wondered if Maddock had perhaps been forced to retire because of his mental health.

  Suddenly, Maddock sprang up, his hands were free, he was no longer a babbling mess, but his face was determined and focused. The rocking was a ruse for rubbing the zip ties on a sharp metal table leg. They'd taken too long to cut off. He was afraid that Colin would become suspicious and not give him enough time to get them off. His heart pounded in anticipation. He circled the billionaire who stood with a puzzled look on his face.

  "What are you doing, Maddock? You want to fight me?" Colin said in disbelief.

  Scott's jaw, likewise, was wide open, shocked, at Maddock's sudden transformation.

  "I don't want to kill you, Colin, you're my nephew and my sister's son. But you're going to have to let us go. Cut Scott's hands free. We're going to be leaving," Maddock said matter of factly.

  "Well, I just can't let you do that, Maddock, you know too much," Colin stated.

  Just then, the door opened, and the Russian lieutenant came running in shouting. Maddock placed a quick kick to his face, and he hit the ground, out cold. Colin felt this was his opportunity to get things back under control, and he kicked Maddock in the back. Maddock tumbled to the floor but rolled and quickly stood back up.

  "Maddock, I'm just going to tell you. I know you were fighting the first Iraq War, but I am a second-degree blackbelt. I was the Southwest Michigan Karate champion in 1991. I still spar twice a week, with a Tae Kwon Do champion and a Japanese Shotokan Master. I don't want to hurt you," Colin said calmly as if he were telling Maddock that he'd get wet for jumping in the water.

  Maddock chuckled to himself and circled Colin. Colin shook his head and put his hands up into a fighting stance. He stepped forward and threw two quick jabs at Maddock.

  Maddock ducked back and avoided Colin's punches. He moved like a boxer, and as Colin threw a right cross, he ducked underneath and punched the younger man in the right side of his rib cage. Colin winced.

  Maddock now went on the offensive. He threw a qu
ick jab and a right at Colin's face. Colin slapped away the cross and punched Maddock in the side of the head. Maddock rolled with the punch absorbing its impact. The blow had been sharp and well-timed, Colin was a worthy opponent.

  As Colin came in for another jab, Maddock threw a hard roundhouse to his left knee, an audible crack was heard in the room. Scott winced from the sound as much as Colin did from the pain. Colin answered with a back kick that connected with Maddock's stomach, he exhaled loudly as Colin's foot stomped into his gut. He attempted to step back to lessen some of the kick's power, but it landed at near its fullest potential.

  Colin came around with a flying back roundhouse kick meant to knock him out cold. Maddock ducked underneath and punched Colin in the kidneys. Colin again spun for a backfist. Maddock shrugged his shoulder just in time for the high-speed punch to impact his deltoid rather than his chin, a close call on what would have been a severe knock out punch.

  Now Colin was in an awkward position. Maddock punched him in the stomach twice and then kicked his left knee. This time his leg buckled, and Maddock seized the opportunity. He shot in and took Colin down, now in a full-MMA mount, he punched him several times in the face. Colin put his hands up, and Maddock swung his legs around, rolling Colin into an armbar. Colin defended, and Maddock moved his legs, transitioning the armbar into a triangle. He pulled Colin's left arm through his legs and clamped down on his neck.

  "Well, Colin, I know you weren't born yet, but I was the Michigan state 167-pound wrestling champion in 1971. Then I've been working with some younger guys at Battle Creek Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. I don't have a belt, but you just fell for a move that most blue belts can defend against," Maddock his voice straining as he kept the stronger man in the crushing chokehold.

  Colin began frantically tapping Maddock's leg, "Oh, no, no Colin, you don't get to tap out. You might shit your pants, but don't worry, you'll wake up."

  After a few more seconds, Maddock uncrossed his legs, and the limp body of Colin Crossfield dropped to the floor. Maddock checked Colin's breathing then sprang to his feet.

  "He'll be okay, let's get you out of those," Maddock said, stepping over the unconscious Colin and the Russian officer who still lay on the floor, to an astonished Scott.

  Outside the door, rapid gunfire and screaming could be heard.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Into the Hills

  MADDOCK OPENED THE door and saw one of the soldiers who had previously been in the room flying through the hallway. A spray of fluid hit him in the face as the body went by. He wiped his face and saw that it was blood, as he looked down the hall, a massive Magadan yeti screamed as it ran toward him. He slammed the door and ran to the table, holding the guns.

  "Those are not the nice yetis," Maddock said, his face sprayed with blood.

  Scott grabbed his M4 and looked down at Colin's body.

  "Should we tie these two boneheads up?" Scott asked.

  Suddenly, the metal door began to thump as if being slammed by a car.

  "No time for that, open the door, and I'll shoot it in the mouth, it worked before," Maddock said.

  "You really want to do that?" Scott asked reluctant to remove the one thing separating them from these violent creatures.

  "What other choice do we have?"

  Scott crept to the door and held the handle. He put himself in a position to dive away after the door opened because he expected it to be flung wide with enough force to crush anyone behind the door. Maddock cocked the lever of the Savage 99, racking a .300 Savage round into the chamber. He looked underneath the Swarovski scope through the iron sights.

  "Now!" he shouted.

  Scott swung the door open and dove backward, just as he thought, the creature standing on the other side pushed it open with such force that it slammed against the concrete wall and nearly tore the door off the hinges. Maddock took aim at its face, and as he expected, the beast opened its mouth wide to scream an intimidating roar. Maddock depressed the trigger and felt the Savage 99 recoil into his shoulder.

  An explosion of red blood splattered the back wall as the yeti fell silent, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he slammed into the ground shaking the entire room. As he laid, a pool of blood expanded from his head. The smell of wet fur and blood was immediate and almost sickening. Maddock and Scott exited the door, slamming it behind them. The twisted door would not shut, and Scott kicked it several times, forcing it's bent hinges back and jamming the door shut.

  Now the two men heard the commotion outside. The garage door was open, and Scott could see light snow being blown into the building. He felt the cold wind of the Siberian night as Maddock advanced into the garage, motioning for him to follow.

  In the garage, they saw what appeared to be a human being who had been put through a blender and sprayed on the walls. Little was left of whoever it had been. The only reason they knew it wasn't an animal who had been eviscerated by the violent hominids was that scraps of the same winter camouflage-patterned clothing that they wore, were mixed in amongst the bloody chunks.

  Outside a half dozen Magadan yetis lumbered by. Where they normally walked on two legs, the Magadan now used a form of quadrupedal running, extending their long front arms as they went by at incredible speeds. Amidst the chaos of the running gang of Magadan, they witnessed, to their horror, a familiar face. The Mother Goddess, shrieking as she was carried by Magadan yeti at the back of the group.

  Maddock looked at the snowmobiles parked at the front of the garage, they were painted in a winter camouflage pattern and had black lettering on the side.

  "Tajga 500's? Never heard of those, but they've got to be better than Arctic Cats. How much time would you reckon we have? We should make it back to the extraction zone in plenty of time now," Maddock said.

  His voice had a finality, a resolve that seemed to indicate that he felt the mission was coming to a close.

  "Don't you think we should rescue her?" Scott suggested.

  "The…the female yeti?" Maddock asked.

  "Yeah, their goddess, they saved our asses, and their queen needs help now, how long is it going to take, we can still make the extraction. I have one hour and fifteen minutes on my watch. Let's go, then we can make the 25 miles to the extraction zone easy."

  "We've completed the mission, Scott. Your feelings will get you killed, you just have to know that you can't help everyone, Scott, we gotta go."

  "Alright, I'll meet you at the extraction zone, I'll need the Savage 99, my M4, is not going to be effective."

  Maddock bit his bottom lip. He shook his head, he knew that this was the wrong thing to do from a mission standpoint, but he was no longer in the military. He was his own business, he called the shots now. It was the decent thing to do. He looked to the right, on the wall was the paratrooper's version of the RPG-7 portable, rocket-propelled grenade launcher. It broke down into two pieces to be more easily carried. Maddock stuffed it in his pack.

  "Alright, I've always wanted to shoot one of these anyway," he relented, "We'll catch up to them, free her, and then we'll get to the extraction zone."

  The snowmobiles electric starters fired up, the machines, warm from being stored in the garage, roared to life almost instantly.

  "Don't get carried away, go slow until they warm up!" Maddock said as he flipped up his parka hood and lowered his goggles. Then he sped away into the snow falling in the blackness.

  Scott pushed in the throttle of his machine with his thumb and followed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Lieutenant Roskovski

  LIEUTENANT MIKHAIL ROSKOVSKI shook his pounding head as he pulled himself off the floor. He became acutely aware of the smell of wet fur, piss, and blood as he tried to see through his bleary eyes. As he looked toward his feet, he saw the furry body of a monster yeti. The dead beast startled him and caused him to regain consciousness more quickly. He crawled away from it and saw that Colin Crossfield lay next to him, a few weak moans were the only thing that told Roskovski that C
rossfield was alive.

  “What is that?” Roskovski said in Russian, sitting in the corner curled up into a ball.

  Colin, in the same bleary-eyed state, looked in the direction that Roskovski pointed.

  “That is a Magadan yeti,” Colin replied stoically also in Russian, prodding its lifeless body with his boot. His head hurt, and he was in pain from several cuts and deep bruises he’d sustained in the fight with his uncle.

  “You said these were unkillable. They killed it?” The lieutenant asked.

  “Certainly looks like it,” Colin said disappointedly. This was one of his latest batches, and they should have survived a fight better than previous generations.

  How did an old man trained in the spec ops techniques of the 1970s and ’80s do this?

  He stood on wobbly legs and looked at the white fur of the beast.

  “He shot it in the mouth, their fur is bulletproof, it traps projectiles and absorbs their impact. Their hide is thick and resistant to bullets, but their mouths are soft. The bullet went right into this thing’s brain stem.”

  “These two Americans you captured, you seem to know them? We need them dead, they’ve already seen too much, we need to call in an infantry unit and hunt them down. I can get helos, fighters, and men on the ground in less than 45 minutes,” Roskovski said.

  “We don’t need that, let me handle this. I will take care of them,” Colin replied angrily, his fist in a ball.

  “Who were they? They quite easily took us out, trained military, clearly. The one was old, but were they American Special Forces?” Roskovski guessed.

  “No, they were two skiers who got lost, the old man was an Olympic wrestler and a judoka.”

  “They must have been extremely lost. Northeastern Siberia seems a strange place for a ski vacation. Even so, these two are already far ahead of us, we need eyes in the air,” the lieutenant insisted.

  Colin had needed to call in the Russian Army on two other occasions. Once when Magadan yetis had overrun the facility and another time when his saber-toothed tigers had gotten loose and threatened a nearby city. The Russian officers had not been particularly pleasant to deal with and the yeti project was seen as a folly in the Russian Federal Assembly. Even the president, a personal friend of Colin, and a man with a keen interest in the enhancements being developed through the program was having a difficult time defending them. Behind the closed doors of the secret project commission that approved the budgets for black projects like this one, the Magadan project was seen as ridiculous and wasteful. Calling out a Russian infantry and air unit to save him again would draw unneeded attention to the project.