Chapter 4
Drake spent the rest of the day relaxing in Arraiolos while Correia finalized the plans for Drake and Cutter's trip to Russia. Drake contemplated getting in touch with Sully, but decided against it. He instead began to focus more on his reasons for working with Correia. Certainly the aspect of discovering something like Mazaua was enticing, even though it wasn't really a "treasure". But undoubtedly, Drake's main focus was on Rika and Chandra. At first it had been personal vengeance for him, but after what he witnessed at the Villa de Serrano, now it was because he believed that the two very much deserved to be beaten. If their objective was, for whatever reason, to find Mazaua, it was Drake's duty to make sure they failed.
And so the day dragged on, Drake wandering through the streets, sipping on beers as he reflected on his purpose. The sun was setting when he finally started heading back to Correia's house. As Drake walked down the street, he heard a rustling behind him. He turned sharply, just in time to glimpse a dark figure duck behind a car. Drake stared for a moment, trying to catch sight of the mysterious figure again. He slowly began walking towards the car, his fists clenched. Why the hell didn't he keep his guns on him…
Drake edged to the car, knees bent and fists up as he maintained a fighting pose. He held his breath as he quickly turned around the car to face his stalker. But nobody was there behind the car. Drake stood straight, confused, looking up and down the street. Not a soul was to be seen. Drake swallowed his nervousness as he continued down the street to Correia's house and knocked on the door. Cutter answered with a big smile on his face, but the grin dropped into a frown as if pulled by an invisible hand as soon as Cutter laid his eyes on Drake's nervous expression.
"What's wrong, mate?" Cutter asked, sensing the danger that put Drake on edge.
"I thought I saw something." Drake said, pushing his way through the doorway.
"A something or someone?" Cutter asked, leaning his head out the doorway and scoping out the street. "Were you followed by Teppa?"
"No, I don't think so."
"That's not very confident."
"I know…" Drake mumbled, moving to his room. He pulled out his gun vest and strapped it on.
"Alright buddy, now you're making me nervous." Cutter said, smiling half-heartedly. "Is this what the whole trip is going to be like?"
"No," Drake said apologetically "I've just been a bit on edge lately. The Teppa are a lot smarter than we give them credit for. And they are definitely playing for keeps."
"Well so are we, mate." Cutter responded, smiling and patting Drake on the shoulder before walking out and closing the door. Drake stood in silence and stared out his window. He was sure he had seen someone moving amongst the cars. Or was it a something? Now even he was beginning to doubt his resolution. What if it had been some stray dog? That would make him feel like a fool.
Drake sighed but decided to keep the vest on. So as not to continue making Cutter and Correia uncomfortable, Drake pulled a jacket on before walking into the dining room. Although the daytime was warm in Arraiolos, the nights were cold with no cloud cover. Since Correia's house had no heater, it was fairly reasonable to be wearing the jacket.
"Mr. Drake, I hope you are getting ready for your little expedition!" Correia greeted cordially when Drake entered the room. "Anton and I have decided the best time to leave may very well be tomorrow morning, so as to catch a plane by mid-morning, and arrive in Arkhangelsk by mid-afternoon or early evening. How does that sound?"
"Fine by me." Drake said with a warm smile.
"Excellent!" Correia said, giddy with excitement. "Then tonight let me treat you and Mr. Cutter out to dinner as preliminary thanks for your work."
Drake gladly accepted the dinner, and enjoyed the rest of his evening. He was feeling more comfortable with Correia as an employer and Cutter as a partner. It was nice, especially since he had plenty of experience with bad employers and backstabbing from previous adventures. However, the sensation that he was being followed persisted, and that in and of itself was enough to worry Drake, and cause him to remain on edge. Certainly there were a few times where a glance over his shoulder would reveal a shadowy figure or rustling foliage. Correia didn't seem to notice Drake's unease, but Cutter did, and the larger man began to focus more on possible followers.
"-and really that is why I choose to avoid beef at meals, although it does amuse me when I am confused for being of the Hindu faith." Correia chuckled, finishing up a story Drake hadn't even been pretending to listen to. "Well that was a wonderful evening!" Correia exclaimed as they reached his home.
"Yeah, thank you very much Franco." Cutter said, patting his friend on the back.
"Well you two best be off to bed, you do have an early morning." Correia said cheerfully. "Goodnight Mr. Cutter. Goodnight Mr. Drake. Oh, and Mr. Drake? Thank you again, for all of your help."
"You're welcome." Drake said with a nod. That was one thing he liked about Correia; the man didn't treat this like a business deal or a job that Drake was being paid to do, even though it was. He treated it like a favor Drake was doing for him.
Drake was headed down the hall when he was grabbed and spun around by Cutter.
"You were right." He hissed at Drake, looking over his shoulder to make sure Correia was out of ear range.
"Wha-"
"We were being followed. I saw him. But it was only one, the same person again and again."
"Do you think it was Teppa?" Drake asked, his hand drifting towards his gun.
"No, definitely not." Cutter said, backing away from Drake. "A kid punk or something. They stopped tailing us back at the restaurant. At worst they were looking to mug us."
"How do you know for sure?"
"Surprisingly enough, mate, I happen to be very good at what I am paid to do."
Drake conceded and lowered his hand from his guns.
"So what should we do?"
"Nothing." Cutter responded, giving Drake a reassuring shoulder pat. "You need to loosen up. Whoever was following you, they quit, and they sure as all hell ain't Teppa. So you have nothing to worry about. Get some sleep, it'll be a busy day."
Drake nodded and went to his room. Cutter was right, there was nothing to worry about. The Teppa weren't exactly a "wait-in-the-shadows" type of group. If they were stalking him, they would have killed him already. Drake's foul mood had persisted during the remainder of his stay in Arraiolos, but no more. This was a simple job, and if Rika showed up again, he would deal with her for good.
Flopping onto his bed, Drake smiled contentedly, one of the first true smiles that had passed over his face since the night at the Villa de Serrano. And in that moment, as he drifted off to sleep, nothing could bother Nathan Drake.
As Correia had promised, the next morning was an early one. Drake struggled through the drive to the airport, the lines at check-in, and the haphazard boarding half-asleep. An airplane seat never looked so inviting as when he found his aisle.
"Are there any files you'd like to review before we get to Arkhangelsk?" Cutter asked, plopping down in the seat next to Drake.
"The files on the back of my eyelids sound rather nice." Drake mumbled, and Cutter looked at him condescendingly. "What? C'mon Charlie, it's an easy job if we play the stealth game. We avoid the Teppa, get the papers, and get out. Easy stuff."
"Is this generally how your plans go?" Cutter asked sarcastically.
"Mhmm." Drake grunted as he reclined his seat.
"No offense mate, but I really can't see myself working with you after this job."
"No offense taken." Drake fell silent for a moment, then sat up. "Actually, I do have a question." He said, earning a skeptical look from Cutter. "Anton Rezikov. What's his story?"
Cutter looked at Drake for a moment as if contemplating how serious the inquiry was. When satisfied that Drake's interest was legitimate, Cutter pulled out his journal and flipped it open.
"I wrote a bio on Rezikov when I first met him, as I do with all my associates." Cutter explained.
"Did you write one about me?" Drake asked, earning another glare from Cutter.
"Yeah but you wouldn't want to read it. Might hurt your feelings. Anyways," he continued, ignoring Drake's eye-roll. "Dr. Anton Rezikov, born in Novodvinsk, a city in the Arkhangelsk Oblast of Russia. He is a biochemical scientist with a particular amount of work in botany. He was actually very brilliant and as a young man he was hired by the Soviets to work on a project in the Philippines. Not much is known about the project, it was a complete flop, after which Rezikov returned to Russia and waited out the Cold War. He worked briefly as a researcher but moved to the Philippines in the late 80's, early 90's to continue private research. He retired and since then returned to his hometown."
"What does he have to do with Magellan and Mazaua?" Drake asked once Cutter had finished recounting what he knew of Rezikov.
"Well, it looks like while he was doing his private research in the Philippines he was turned on to the idea of Mazaua. Apparently his research partner at the time, a Dr. Sergei Turovic, was enthralled with the idea of Mazaua and the possibility of Magellan having left some secret treasure there."
"A treasure?" Drake asked, perking up. He quickly checked himself, taking note that his zealous reaction to the mention of treasure was scarily reminiscent of Sully.
"Don't get your hopes up. Turovic was a nut-job, and more than once put Rezikov in a dangerous position. It was after ditching him that Rezikov connected with Franco, and they have been working together ever since."
"So we can trust Rezikov?"
"I'd say so."
Drake nodded, mulling over this new information. He had never heard about the Mazaua controversy, but apparently it was a pretty big deal. And for the next few days it looked like it would be his entire life.
"What ever happened to Turovic?" Drake asked, turning once more to Cutter, who shrugged in response.
"No idea. Not even Rezikov knows. He left him behind in the Philippines and hasn't seen or heard from him since. Dropped off the map entirely. We looked him up and he was real, everything in Rezikov's story checks off. But Turovic just… disappears."
"Huh." Was all Drake could say in response to that. He had no idea what to make of this new information. Interpersonal turmoil was expected with most treasure hunters, especially irrational ones like Turovic.
Drake looked out the window and down at what was probably the Spanish countryside. He couldn't help but feel that if all those spanning miles of fields and cities below him were the adventure he had just gotten himself involved in, he was just a pebble. Before he could further the metaphor, Drake drifted into a dreamless sleep that seemed to last only minutes before he was jolted awake by the planes descent.
The climate outside had changed from Mediterranean mid-morning to far north afternoon. The sun glimmered dully through the gray clouds, unable to fully warm the cold ground.
"Here we are." Cutter, said, standing up and pulling out his and Drake's bags from the overhead compartment. Drake always got antsy when landing in new countries while on a job. He felt like there was so much to do, and being stuck in customs took up too much time and left him too in the open.
Despite this vulnerability, the airport was vastly uneventful. Drake and Cutter got a rental car easily enough, and headed off to Arkhangelsk.
They had landed at Talagi Airport, a good 13 kilometers from the city center, but only about 10 kilometers from the warehouse Rezikov had holed himself up in. Drake was comforted by the fact that they did not have to pass through the bustling city, deciding that the slightly more vacant area around the warehouse would provide better for their tactical avoidance of any Teppa who might be in the immediate area.
Fifteen minutes later, Drake and Cutter were standing outside of the rusted and dilapidated gate of an equally rusty and dilapidated warehouse with boarded up windows and abandoned trucks discard in the lot. The gate itself was plastered with no trespassing signs, and was still tightly locked down.
"I thought Rezikov was supposed to open up the gate for us?" Cutter asked, nervously looking over his shoulder. They had yet to encounter any Teppa, but they didn't want to take any chances. They had to hurry up.
"Maybe he got too scared to come out or something." Drake proposed, a little skeptical of the hermitic scientist.
"Maybe. How do we get in?"
Drake looked around at the perimeter fence and shrugged.
"Oh, you know. The usual."
The main gate was still topped with barbed wire, but most of the rest of the fence had a wall base that allowed Drake to get a boost up to what would have been the roof of the security guard's station. Balancing on the rusted tin roof, Drake jumped down to the other side of the fence, and gestured for Cutter to follow him. Cutter repeated Drake's movements, but when he reached the tin roof, it collapsed under his weight, and with a loud clatter he fell through.
"Charlie! Shhh!"
"Oh yeah, sure, don't worry about me…" Cutter mumbled. "It's not even like there are people around to hear us."
The two men walked over and tried the door to the warehouse.
"Locked, from the inside of course."
Cutter knocked on the door, and they waited patiently. After a few minutes of no response, Drake stepped back to examine the rest of the warehouse.
"We can make our way up the side of the building." He observed. "See, right there!" He exclaimed pointing out a window where one of the boards had come undone. Drake looked at Cutter expectantly, who responded with an eyebrow-raised look of disbelief.
"Oh, what? Up there? Three stories up? Did you see how that tin roof folded under me like paper? Yeah, no thanks, you can do the climbing monkey boy. And you can open the door for me once you're inside, like a real gentleman."
Drake scowled but did not respond, turning instead to the challenge at hand.
Moving as quickly as he could while remaining silent, Drake started climbing a fire escape which would provide him with a good start. But the corroded iron had fallen apart, only getting him a little less than a story up. Drake jumped and clung to a windowsill, scooting his way along closer to a drain pipe that ran up the side of the building. Drake lunged and barely grabbed the pipe. Stabilizing himself, he slowly began to shimmy up the building. He had nearly reached the third story when the pipe groaned and started to bend.
"Don't break, don't break, don't break…" Drake mumbled, extending his hand towards the closest windowsill. With a loud snap, the restraint holding the pipe in place broke off, and the pipe began to bend.
"No, damn it I was so close!" Drake cried out as the pipe bent away from the windowsill. Suddenly, the entire pipe snapped off, throwing Drake backwards.
"Wooooooooahhhhh shit!" Drake shouted, shooting out his hands and grasping the bottom rung of a fragment of the fire escape ladder. The ladder was unable to support Drake's weight however, and snapped as well, swinging out to suspend Drake over open air.
"See! See, that is exactly what I am talking about! In this situation, I would be so screwed!" Cutter shouted up from below.
"Thanks for that." Drake grunted as he strained out to reach for the other portion of the latter, which was just out of reach.
"Here, I got you." Cutter called up. Drake heard a muffled gunshot and the ladder above him slid down several feet. Now within arm's reach, Drake barely grasped onto the ladder and pulled himself up before the piece he had been hanging from completely gave out and dropped.
Drake climbed up onto the landing and looked down at Cutter.
"A gun?! Are you serious?!"
"What? Didn't you bring one?"
"Yeah, but I'm not shooting it at ladders!" Drake hissed.
"Well it is silenced, and it did help you. I could have let you drop. Not that it would have mattered much. Two story drop? That's, what, a twisted ankle?"
Drake groaned in exasperation and turned away.
"I hope one day you fall of a building and bust your leg up, see how much it matters then."
Still grumbling, Drake swung down onto the windowsill of the window nearest him and made his way over to the window with the gap in the boards. Squeezing through, he found himself on a platform in the warehouse that was fortunately still intact, and provided a direct stairway down to the ground floor.
"Dr. Rezikov! It's Nathan Drake! You didn't open the gate or door; we had to come in another way." Drake paused and thought to himself. "Okay, we probably should have called your cell phone before sneaking in." There was a silent pause. "Dr. Rezikov?"
Drake moved quickly down the stairs and broke down the front door of the warehouse.
"Thank you my-" Cutter started, but he was cut off by Drake.
"Rezikov isn't here."
"What do you mean?"
"He isn't here!" Drake shouted, both anger and frustration in his voice.
The warehouse was not empty; it was in fact filled with tables, broken glass, boxes, and other various objects. However, the place had clearly been ransacked, and there was nobody inside.
"Shit. What do you think this is, Teppa?" Cutter asked, pulling out his gun and moving through the warehouse.
"No, not if the gate was closed and the front door barred. This wasn't a random break in, this was a kidnapping."
"Christ." Cutter pulled out his cell phone and quickly dialed. He held the phone to his ear for a moment then swore. "Rezikov isn't answering. I'm going to try Franco, we have to tell him something went wrong."
Drake bent down and inspected some of the mess. The place had been picked clean so that not even a hint as to who was responsible or what Rezikov had been working on was present.
"Correia didn't answer. What do you think?" Cutter asked, turning to Drake.
Drake shook his head, unsure of how to proceed.
"Maybe we should stay here and keep trying to get in touch with Correia." He suggested. Cutter was about to retort when the sound of shouting voices were heard in the lot outside the warehouse. There was a loud bashing sound as the front gate was torn down.
"Oh goddamn it." Drake said through ground teeth, pulling out his own gun. Two smoke grenades were tossed into the warehouse, filling the area with smoke. Drake was preparing to open fire when he heard the shouting through the doorway in Russian.
"My v politsiyu! Polozhite vashe oruzhiye vniz!"
Drake didn't know much Russian, but he recognized enough words to throw his gun down and put his hands in the air and urge Cutter to do the same.
These were not Teppa soldiers. These were Russian Police.
Author's Notes: Well, there we go, Chapter 4! Getting back into the swing of things, although with midterm's impending, Chapter 5 may take a little while. Anyways, how did you all like this chapter? I know it has been pretty dialogue heavy as of late, I am trying to break it up with some action, but there is definitely a different tone than the last story i wrote. i hope you are all still enjoying this one. Let me know what you like, what you dislike, leave reviews please! By the way, I know at least one person was unsure, so let ,me clarify that this takes place between Uncharted 2 and Uncharted 3. Thank you very much for reading. Until next time!
