Free Kirov Saga: Hinge Of Fate: Altered States Volume III (Kirov Series) by John Schettler

up
the rope ladder dangling from the Abakan’s spy basket, just a nice fat
fish on Karpov’s line now.
    His eyes betrayed the murderous
rage in him, barely controlled as he was slowly reeled in and the basket was
tucked under the main gondola of the other airship. The cold air had cleared
his head, and given him just a little time to settle down, but he was still in
a foul mood when they pried open the basket hatch. He grunted, his jaw
tightening as he realized how Karpov was going to lord it over him now, and
there was nothing he could do about it. Nothing at all.
    Then, to his great surprise, he
eased out of the basket and heard a Marine Sergeant issue a sharp, bawling order,
calling his security detail to attention. The men stiffened, their black
polished boots stomping the metal deck in a brisk movement. They were wearing
dress uniforms, and the detail Sergeant was holding a drawn saber, squared off
right along the line of his nose. Another man held a flag of the Free Siberian
State.
    “Sir!” The Marine Sergeant spoke
in a deep voice. “Welcome aboard the Abakan .” The man nodded to a
private, and he piped the Captain aboard in traditional naval style.
    Symenko was more than surprised,
and stood just a little taller at the greeting. Karpov had him dangling from
his little finger. After hearing him taunt me over the loss of Omsk on the
radio I expected nothing more than humiliation here, and yet… the man has shown
me a little respect. It was not something he expected, but it did much to tamp
down his sallow and ill-tempered mood.
    “This way, if you please,
Captain.” The Marine Sergeant gestured with a white gloved hand, and the detail
filed off behind the two men as they made their way out of the receiving
chamber and into the main gondola. They came to a door on the right side and
the Sergeant opened it, beckoning Symenko to enter. There the Captain was
surprised again to see a table laid out with fine white linen, plates of cold
cuts and cheese, a flask of brandy with elegant crystal glasses, and two cigars
sitting quietly on a silver platter like the two airships riding in tandem now
for this meeting.
    Respect, thought Symenko. Yes,
just a little respect for a change, and more in the last five minutes than I
got from Volkov in the last month. Brandy and cigars are hardly compensation
for everything Volkov just took from me and handed to Karpov…
    But it’s a start.
     
     
    Part III
     
    Tunguska
     
    “All large trees on the mountains were
leveled in dense rows, whereas in the valleys one could see both roots and
trunks of age-old giants of the taiga broken like reeds. The tops of the fallen
trees were directed to us. We were going north towards the super-hurricane that
had raged here years ago… I climbed Shakrama mountain and for the first time
saw the unbelievable land of dead forest… everything has been leveled and
scorched in the Great Hollow… and in the center of it all, a cluster of trees
were still standing upright like bare telegraph poles, all devoid of leaf and
branch.”
     
    —Leonid Kulik: Tunguska
     
     
    Chapter 7
     
    Evgeny Krinov handed the
young staffer a large box, a solemn look on his face.
    “Take these as well,” he said
matter of factly. “They’re just cluttering up the storage room and have become
a fire hazard. So let us put them to the fire and be done with it. See that
they go directly to the incinerator.”
    “As you wish, sir.” The staffer
took the box and hastened away, and Krinov watched him go, his eyes dark and
thoughtful. That is the last of them, he thought. That will put an end to
Kulik’s nonsense once and for all.
    An astronomer and geologist,
Krinov was a well known scientific researcher with an expertise in meteorite
falls. Born in 1906, he was a two year old child when the greatest fall of his
lifetime, perhaps the greatest in modern history, occurred in the strange event
on the morning of June 30, 1908, just north of the Stony Tunguska River