Being frogmarched through the narrow hallways of the barracks wouldn't have been anybody's idea of comfortable. Except this was exactly how Sergei Stalnoy was escorted by a group of three guards and Caspian Vancroft up a spiral staircase into a new room which was the complete antithesis of the captain's. It was a bit smaller, but it more than made up for it in height. Bookshelves towered overhead, with piles of books precariously balanced on the steps of the ladder stood against them. Instead of lanterns and candles to light the room, glowing stones floated in the air with no support whatsoever, bobbing up and down slightly with what Sergei assumed were the air currents up above. The sound of rain was muffled and barely audible in the room, possibly a sign of the storm dying down.
"Good." Thought Sergei, as the three guards who had frogmarched him to the room released him and turned to leave, locking the door behind them. "No point in a strong lock if the door is as weathered as that."
Caspian Vancroft was as pale as a ghost, still traumatised by whatever it was he saw, or thought he saw. His breathing was shallow and uneven, his eyes darting toward the few shadows dancing under the bookshelves rather than meeting Sergei's gaze. Fear radiated off of Caspian in waves; every time he caught a glimpse of Sergei's eyes, another foaming wall slammed into Sergei. He could literally smell it.
"Damn, I miss those days." Muttered Sergei.
"Silence." Snapped Caspian, "You are not to utter another sound. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal clear, Caspian. Crystal clear." Grinned Sergei, taking a step forward. "Hey, quick question. What happened when you tried that party trick of yours? You seem pretty shaken up about it."
"Don't move either. And what did I just say about you speaking?" Retorted Caspian, his voice beginning to waver considerably. He cleared his throat to steady himself. "One more move and I'll bind you to the stake to burn. Final warning." Despite his best efforts, there was no concealing the terror in his eyes that narrowed to a needle-sized focus. Caspian fumbled around with his left hand in one of the many pouches on his belt, trying to find something.
"Ok." In one swift motion Sergei lunged towards a nearby table and flung it at Caspian. Books slammed down onto the ground, and inkwells shattered, letting the contents destroy the elegant covers of the books and some of the pages in them. Loose pieces of paper fluttered down slowly as the table rocketed towards Caspian, narrowly missing his head and splitting in two on the stone brick wall behind him. In the split second that Caspian registered that his head was still attached to his shoulders, Sergei had pounced onto his back like a wild animal, coiling his arms around Caspian's neck like a snake to choke him out. Unfortunately for Caspian, he had tensed a second too late, and within the next few seconds of futile struggle, he finally collapsed into a mangled, unconscious heap.
Looking down at himself and then back at Caspian, Sergei, for the first time in a long, long time, gave the hint of a small smile. "Guess I'm going to be walking out of here tonight. Just like back then..."
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It had stopped raining outside, with a few drops lagging behind and drifting dreamily through the cloudy sky. A pair of moons peeked out from behind the clouds, shining a light down onto the now swampy and marshy land that stretched out for miles. Sergei trudged through the mud, being painfully reminded of his time in the United Kingdom. Grimacing, he marched on and, after around an hour, eventually reached a stone track. It hadn't been laid by hand, instead having been worn down to a layer of bedrock that lay just below the surface. It was jagged and uneven, with a pair of parallel marks near the edges of the track suggesting that it was commonly used. Turning back, Sergei took one final look at the now miniscule barracks, sighed, and followed the track in the opposite direction. Away from the mountains.
After possibly several hours of marching, the stone path had turned into a brick road. The bricks were chipped and cracked in many places but were still perfectly serviceable. The two moons above cast a gloomy blue hue over the local scenery as they began to slip past the horizon, and in the distance, Sergei could make out the shape of a small village.
"Bloody miles away this is." Grumbled Sergei, fed up of marching through the abysmal conditions. Frozen mud was caked on the clothes he had stolen from Caspian, making the bones in Sergei's body audibly creak like antique furniture. "Hope there's at least a fire."
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The atmosphere in the prototype meeting room was colder than the vacuum of space the ISS V 2.0 was orbiting in. Lightning flashed out in the near and open ocean; the sudden storm cast a grey melancholic shadow on Bastion Delta. The childlike and comical outburst of the four men sulking at the table had lasted a record short time, 5 seconds exactly, in a poor effort to save face. Dr Élodie Marchand stood with her arms crossed, pale grey eyes sweeping over the assembled leaders with the clinical detachment of a scientist observing a failed experiment.
"So," Élodie began, her voice slicing through the silence like a surgeon's scalpel. "Who's in charge?" No answer. Duncan was tapping his foot impatiently on the ground, Nikolai was nervously biting his fingernails, Arthur leant back in his chair and twiddled his thumbs, while Zhen Wu simply sat as still as a statue. All of them were staring down at the table.
Looking around the room, the doctor visibly deflated. "How did Harvey Wilson", asked the doctor. "Of all the people in the world, how did Harvey Wilson get dropped in charge of this insane operation?" A brief pause. A few snickers and some knowing looks were shared between the men.
Shaking her head, Dr Marchand started again. "I will ask once more, plainly: What is going on here? I'm sure that you're aware of the reason for my being here, so let's begin with that, shall we?"
"We know that it was an unexplainable energy reading, Dr Marchand, but to be quite frank, none of us actually know anything about that." Duncan Smith replied. "Only Harvey does, and, well..." trailing off, he gestured around the room to finish the thought.
"Useless." Muttered the doctor. "What prompted the rapid construction of Bastion Delta?"
"It's a research facility built to study an anomalous atmospheric event from its effect." Conjured Duncan from a dust-filled, cobweb-infested corner of his brain and articulated through his ass. Arthur McKinley nodded along enthusiastically while Zhen Wu and Nicolai Medvedev side-eyed them, knowing full well what was coming.
"Bullshit." Snapped the doctor before Duncan had even finished his sentence. "An 'anomalous atmospheric event' that vaporised an area with a radius of 85 nautical miles, triggered global seismic activity, and was seen by every other satellite in orbit? You definitely put in lots of effort into hunting down the footage the instant it hit binary on earth. Unfortunately for you, my project was up there, so I saw the whole thing," she declared. "And the building we're in now, this 'research facility', is constructed from materials that do not obey conventional logic. Do not insult my intelligence, Monsieur Smith. My government is not one of your subordinate officers to be brushed aside with fairy tales."
Arthur McKinley, uncharacteristically sober, rubbed his temples. "Look, Doctor. It's complicated."
"Uncomplicate it. Or the next vessel to arrive will not carry a single diplomat, like myself, but a full diplomatic and military contingent, under an EU inspection mandate we are already drafting. Your secrecy has become a threat to global security."
Zhen Wu and Nikolai Medvedev exchanged an annoyed glance. The threat was real. The French had a seat on the Security Council and the political will to cause an irreversible scene. Secrecy was their greatest weapon and their most fragile vulnerability.
"There is a portal," Zhen Wu said quietly, his voice firm. "Inside that bunker over there. It leads to another world."
Élodie Marchand did not gasp or stagger. She simply blinked, processing. "A portal... another world. Do you take me for a fool, General Wu? This is the most fantastical story I have ever heard in my life!"
"Bitch." Nikolai grumbled under his breath.
"Thank you, Dr Marchand," covered Duncan hastily. "For providing us with a textbook example of the reaction of the world if this was to ever be released."
"At this point we should just show her the damn thing. Makes life a lot easier." Declared Arthur, standing up to leave. The others begrudgingly accepted this and, one by one, began to file on after Arthur and the doctor.
A few drops of rain began to fall from the grey pathetic heavens above. Small drops at first, gradually getting larger, until it was hailing down sizeable chunks of the frozen ocean and slamming down onto the surface. By the time the group had reached the bunker, they were completely drenched. The soft golden glow of the portal pulsated with the slow rhythm of a heartbeat. It left the doctor stunned speechless, left to marvel at the existing impossibility before her.
"And the man you've been training? Sergei Stalnoy, was it?" This time, it was the council's turn to be shocked. Nikolai released a torrent of verbal abuse towards the doctor in Russian, which he knew full well the doctor could perfectly understand.
"How the fuck do you even know about his existence?" Snapped Arthur, his fists clenched tightly and Duncan's hand placed firmly on his shoulder.
"How I know of him doesn't concern you, General McKinley. Who is Sergei Stalnoy? Clearly someone of great importance to you based on your reactions." Pressed Élodie.
"He is a high-value asset." Said Zhen Wu. "But he is most probably dead, so there is no need to concern yourself."
Élodie was silent for a long moment, watching the edges of the portal distort the space around it. "Did you not think to inform the international community of any of this?" She finally said, waving her hand around arbitrarily.
"We are the international community," Arthur growled, glaring down at the doctor.
"You are a cartel," she corrected. "And your mismanagement may lead to the end of us all. You will provide France with all data that you have gathered, processed or unprocessed; I don't care. Send everything over. You will also prepare to receive a European science and reconnaissance team within 72 hours. You don't have a choice. Expect changes, gentlemen, and expect them fast."
With that, Dr Marchand strode out of the bunker to find her room of residence, leaving the men standing there speechless as they watched her get buffeted by the wind.
A pained groan drifted over from the portal. Without having to look, they all knew it was Harvey and were preparing themselves to have at him.
"I suppose she knows then, doesn't she?"
"Yes, Harvey, she does." Replied Zhen Wu. Harvey nodded solemnly.
"I'll go fill out the paperwork then. I assume the European Union is getting involved then?"
"That would be correct."
"Fletcher needs to talk to you about something around about now, so all of you should probably head through. You'll have to jump me another time. Anyways, I'll be going now; see you tomorrow."
"See you tomorrow then, Harvey."
The weight of the world seemed to press down on the room, killing any thought of humour or humanity. Only business and nothing but business could possibly be entertained. The game was officially up.