Chapter twelve
Into Hell
Pavel sat in between two guards as the shuttle rocketed towards the capitol. He'd never actually visited Moscow before. He wondered vaguely what it was like. His eyes kept flitting over everything in the small passenger space. Grey plastic walls, grey plastic floor, black plastic chairs. His eyes were snagged by one of the guards, sitting opposite him, but slightly to the left. Pavel let his eyes drift over him, like everything else in the cabin but he could still see the man in his peripheral vision. And he was staring at him. His intense green eyes were burning into Pavel's cheek. Slowly, he lifted his own dark eyes across and gazed into the green ones. The guard registered Pavel by blinking and smiling. The shuttle started to slow as they reached the outskirts of the city's airspace. Tentatively, Pavel returned the smile. Pain was starting to ooze back into every part of his body as the shuttle descended.
By the time that the doors swished open, revealing the government buildings and the new army base that had been built next to them, Pavel couldn't move without grimacing. The guard pushed his back so gently that Pavel could hardly feel it, but the message was clear enough: Get out. Pavel blinked slowly in the mid-morning sun as the guards scuttled out around him. Even though he was clearly no threat, their guns were trained on him. Then, slowly, the guard with green eyes who had watched Pavel in the shuttle reached forward and clasped his wrists in handcuffs. The cold metal bit into his skin and he winced as they were tightened. He was dragged by those handcuffs across what was now obviously a landing pad. Shuttles and various other aircraft were sitting on the concrete. Each one was being polished by small groups of army men. Their surfaces gleamed to the point that it hurt to look at them. They didn't need polishing; they were being polished for the sake of giving the people something to do. As they passed each craft, the men turned and watched Pavel go past. Some of them looked proud, others looked bored. Many of them, Pavel realised belatedly, were Klingon. Why had he been brought to the Klingon government?
They eventually reached the buildings and one guard shouted a single word into a speaker. The doors in front of them swung open slowly and despite everything, Pavel found himself in awe of the interior of the building. Everything was a complete but balanced mixture between Klingon and Russian baroque decoration. He let his gaze wonder over the walls and ceiling before finally letting them rest on the oak doors set into the wall that the group faced. Chekov counted five seconds before they opened. About five people scurried towards them. They whispered in hushed tones, too quiet and too quickly for Pavel to hear what was said. One woman walked straight up to him and touched a small black device to the side of his head. Much to his surprise, he felt a wave of pain roll across his body from just in front of his year.
"Well?" A voice asked. Pavel turned to see a Klingon standing less than a metre away from him. His eyes were black and empty. From his almost perfect bearing, Chekov knew he was either a captain or the president. Probably both, Chekov thought miserably.
"The device is present and functioning correctly." The woman replied sedately.
"Good." The man nodded. "Well, take him to the cells for now. We'll get in touch with his friends later." He turned on his heel and left the room, the doors crashing behind him. A hand touched Pavel's wrist and started to direct him. He walked numbly, following the guidance of whoever was tugging on his sleeve. He was beyond caring. His insides were icy and hollow. We'll get in touch with his friends later… They knew about the Enterprise then.
Suddenly, everything fell into place. But they also hate being undermined by Starfleet officers. Captain Kirk or one of the other officers had done something that had irritated the government. Chekov couldn't keep himself from shivering. The Klingons hated being undermined. They were going to make Jim pay. By hurting him. The cells seemed to loom up in front of him in seconds. The group paused and one of the guards opened the cell. If the cell he had been put in on the Enterprise had been bad, then there wasn't a word to describe this. When he didn't move, the guard viciously grabbed his shirt front and threw him into the cell. As the door clanged back shut, Pavel caught a glimpse of the guards' eyes. The man from the shuttle looked down steadily at Pavel. They looked sorrowful. They were the eyes of a man who had seen death, and knew he was going to see it again.
Jim left the briefing room and headed to the bridge. Koloth had been telling the truth, but he still had the Russian government to deal with. He reached the bridge and settled himself in the captain's chair.
"Captain!" Uhura burst as soon as Jim had sat. "I'm picking up a signal from a communicator. But sir, they know our frequency." She said. She turned to look at Jim frowning. He considered the information quietly. Picking up a communicator signal from Earth wasn't that uncommon, but if they had specifically used the ship's frequency… that was odd.
"What do they have to say to us, Uhura?" he asked gently. Uhura hit a single button and a gruff Russian voice played over the speakers.
"Uh, we were in contact with a man who we can only assume you know. He asked us to contact you. He leaves this message:
Beam up anyone who's down here at the moment. You have to. They're in immediate danger. 1583,6742 those are the co-ordinates for where I am now. I won't be here when you get this. Talk to the people here but don't look for me. Leave. For your own safety. Chekov.
Does this make sense to you?"
Jim's insides froze. He looked at the weary faces of his crew. All of them were looking at him, expectant. He waited and thought about the message again. Talk to the people here but don't look for me.
Chekov genuinely thought that they were going to leave him behind? Jim was once again struck by how worthless Chekov saw himself as. Did the man honestly think that Jim could just let him go? He felt a look of determination spread over his face.
"Well, then. If it's alright with you sir, we'll beam you up immediately. My officer seems to think you're in danger." Jim replied.
"My wife and child also?" the man questioned.
"Of course. Mr Spock feed those co-ordinates to the transporter room." He finished.
Jim waited on the bridge in tense silence. To think that Pavel had been in touch with people and had not stayed with them worried Jim. But, he supposed, considering everything, it made perfect sense. If indeed, ambassador Drogaff was chasing him, Jim knew Pavel would not stay where he might endanger others. He was not a person who could watch someone else get hurt for him.
"They are safely aboard captain." Spock reported calmly. Jim nodded.
"Spock, go and talk to them, see what they know." He said.
"Captain?" Spock replied, one eyebrow raised quizzically.
"I'm going to tell the Russian government that Alexei was a spy." Jim answered. "Uhura, contact the government." She nodded and went about her job.
"Ah, captain Kirk! I was hoping to hear from you actually." The cold, harsh sounding voice of the Russian president finally answered. Jim smiled pleasantly as the man appeared before him.
"And why is that, Mr President?" Jim asked.
The president waved a hand in front of his face and frowned. "Oh, a small matter. We'll discuss it later. You got in touch with me, I assume you want something?"
"Yes, I thought I should inform you that the guide you provided, Alexei, was it?" Jim started.
"What of him?" The president asked.
"He was a spy." Jim finished bluntly. The president shifted his weight and looked away for a moment.
"A spy, you say?" he finally answered.
"Yes, it became apparent whilst we were on the planet that he is working with Ambassador Drogaff."
Anger suddenly swelled in the President's eyes. He slammed a fist down into his other hand. "What makes you so convinced?" he ground out.
"Drogaff's son, Koloth, can confirm my suspicions." Jim answered. "He found Alexei to be carrying out work for his father whilst I was talking to him."
"Well, then. I shall speak to Koloth face to face. Beam him down. Immediately." He snapped. Jim nodded and gave the order to Uhura, who relayed it through the ship. Jim turned back to the president. He still looked enraged.
"You wanted me for something, I believe?" Jim asked.
"Hmm. Yes." He barked out an order in Klingon and then looked back at Jim. "Won't take a moment." His smile looked downright demonic.
Spock walked briskly through the ship to the transporter room. As the doors opened, he was confronted with the family that had last seen Chekov. The man turned towards Spock and inclined his head in acknowledgment. "I thank you now for ensuring my family's safekeeping." He said. The Russian lilt in his voice was so like Chekov's that it was almost painful to hear.
"It is one of the key roles of Starfleet." Spock replied sedately.
"Starfleet doesn't function in Russia." A young voice blurted. Spock's eyes quickly settled on the young girl standing partially behind her father's leg. Her soft hazel eyes snagged Spock's gaze.
He cleared his throat. "Please, follow me." He turned and left the room. The three people followed him in silence.
They reached spare quarters as Koloth was being led away. Spock presumed that he was needed on the bridge. "Please make yourselves comfortable." He said as he led them into a room. The girl's eyes widened as they fastened onto the bed in front of her. Her mother, who had remained silent throughout this, gently took her hand and they walked slowly to see the rest of the cabin.
"We saw your officer probably about six hours ago. He had been walking and my daughter, thinking he was a robber, fired on him with a laser gun. My wife found him and they brought him back to our house. My wife cleaned his injuries – and there were many – and my daughter gave him some pain killers. I talked to him. The only explanation he offered was that he had been walking all day. Then he asked if we had a communicator and if he could write a message. He set the communicator's frequency and asked us to pass on the message. He asked us to get in touch with you after he had left. He said that he was on the run from a Klingon and that he would torture and kill us all for information." The man paused and his dark eyes stared deeply into Spock's own. "That's all we know."
Spock nodded. "Thank you." After a second, he added "I will find out what options there are for you and your family and we shall discuss these later."
As the doors slid shut between the two men, Spock shut his eyes in desperation. Chekov's actions were so humanly logical! He turned and headed back towards the bridge.
Pavel stayed where he had been thrown. Every muscle ached; every movement caused him unbearable pain. His heart throbbed dully in his chest. It was only a matter of time. He shivered and let his eyes slip close.
There was a moment of blackness, then a scream. After it, there was nothing but the roaring of flames. He scrambled forwards on his hands and knees. By the time he reached the roadside, he was choked with sobs. A voice called him, but he couldn't hear it. It was a blur. He reached the body, looked down into the face he knew so well. Cold, dark eyes stared back at him…
Pavel's eyes shot open again. The grotesque image of the man's twisted face lingered in front of him. "Dad..." he whispered.
The clang of the door springing open shook him from his reverie. Two guards were outlined in the doorway. One was carrying a phaser. One carried a small black box, similar to the one that the woman that had met them had had. He felt the panic climbing in his chest. He latched his eyes onto one of the guards. Chekov didn't know why he was frightened. After all, he reflected, it would be nice when the pain stopped.
The nearest guard leaned towards him and yanked him up by the handcuffs he was still wearing. The metal stung and he felt blood ooze from his wrists. As he was dragged, the other guard poked his back with the gun muzzle. Each strike caused a fresh bout of pain to overcome Pavel's body.
He staggered forwards through the corridor he was being led down. His breath caught in his throat as the phaser hit him again. As the first guard dragged him faster, more blood welled underneath the handcuffs. Eventually, he stumbled. He stayed kneeling for a moment, bent over in pain.
"Get up!" The first guard insisted. He tugged on Pavel's handcuffs. "Get up! He'll be angry if it takes long!" The guard spoke in hoarse whisper. He gently tapped Chekov's knee with his foot. "Come on. You're only making it worse for yourself." The second guard sighed heavily behind Chekov.
Suddenly, a boot connected with his stomach, just below his ribs. "Get up!" the guard roared. Chekov gasped as the air was knocked out of him by a second kick. The phaser impacted with his back and Pavel crumpled even further to the floor. His wrists were beginning to ache in the handcuffs. The first guard was holding his arms up by the handcuffs alone. With his head bent, Chekov tried to stand. As he fell forwards, the guard behind him kicked him again.
"K'rik, enough." The first guard said. Then, still holding the handcuffs in one hand, he placed an arm underneath Chekov's and helped him to stand. They walked at the same pace as before but this time the guard, K'rik, didn't hit him.
They reached double doors that were set into an off-white wall. The doors were opened slowly from the other side and Pavel was dragged through immediately. He could hear the Russian president talking. He seemed to be angry.
"Won't take a moment."
"I'll wait, then." Another voice replied. Ice stabbed through Pavel's heart and he suddenly realised that his assumption had not been wholly correct. Jim, Pavel thought desperately. Yes, the president was going to make Jim pay by hurting Chekov. What he hadn't realised was that the president was going to make his captain and the others watch.
"Now, I have some good news, some bad news." The president said. Somehow, he knew that the guards had arrived with Pavel in tow. There was no answer. "The good news is, we have located your missing ensign. The bad news is, I dislike being undermined and I have no intention of returning him to you!" he spat.
Pavel could hear the outrage in Jim's voice as he answered. "Now, just what gives you the right to hold him as your prisoner?"
"I don't know, captain. What gives you the right to beam down your crewmen when you were explicitly ordered not to?"
"Those men were sent down before the order was given!" Kirk replied stonily.
"No matter now. I will exact my revenge." The president answered. Pavel was dragged into view at the click of his fingers. He looked at the view screen and saw the blood drained out of Jim's face as he took in Chekov's form. He tore his gaze away from Jim and saw the faces of his friends. Sulu, Uhura and Scotty were all there. Fear began to rise through him. They could not see this. They couldn't.
"Whip him." He called in Russian. The two guards that had brought him to the room let go of him. The one named K'rik picked up a normal whip and slashed it across his chest. The impact left him breathless. He struck continuously, without mercy until blood dripped down Pavel's front like a grotesque parody of an apron. Eventually, the beating stopped. Chekov glanced upwards. Jim watched in silence, but the others couldn't hide their shock. Uhura was looking away entirely. God, he wished he could spare them this.
"And I assume that you've at least heard of a knout?" The president asked with false sweetness in his voice. Jim nodded without moving his eyes away from Chekov. The guard that had whipped him now picked up a knout. The metal barbs sank into the skin of his back. After a moment's pause, the guard yanked the knout out. Pavel stumbled and fell backwards as chunks of his flesh tore free of his back. The guard raised the knout to strike again, but was interrupted. Chekov rolled onto one side and showed six fingers towards the view screen. Even from where he was, he could see Jim's jaw harden as he interpreted Chekov's estimation of his remaining lifespan.
"Beat him." Came the toneless command from the president. Another two guards began to kick Pavel's spine endlessly. K'rik, having disposed of the knout, walked around to his front and kicked him once in the stomach. The blow sent Pavel backwards into the legs of another guard. Another kick left him breathless. One boot connected with his jaw and sent his head upwards. He opened his mouth to stop himself from choking on the crimson liquid that was now pouring out of it. The other guards continued to kick him. Chekov kept his eyes fixed on the screen. He needed Jim to see him. His captain seemed to be transfixed by the small trickle of blood seeping out from underneath the handcuffs that Pavel still wore. Chekov knew that he was more than likely brooding over the small amount of time he had given himself to live.
The president continued to talk, oblivious to the silent concern showing in all of the bridge crew. "I assume, by now, that you know of the devices that are implanted into people's heads? Pavel has one. Do you know their function?" he paused. Jim's hazel eyes riveted onto Chekov's dark ones. There was a mute fury in them. Chekov blinked once, slowly, and then looked away. Jim knew what he meant. As he talked, two guards dragged Pavel back to standing.
"They're tracking devices." Jim said hollowly.
"What do you know about them?" the president asked.
"They're devices which are injected into a child's head at the age of two. They're just in front of the right ear and they give out a signal which is streamed into a computer. You can track every single Russian person with them."
"Yes, but of course, nothing is perfect the first time it is invented. They have a fault which can be used to our advantage in this situation. Sometimes, if they get damaged, or corrupted by, say, a Vulcan mind-meld, then when they are activated to track, this happens." He paused and nodded to the guard that had dragged Pavel there. He took the small black box that he had seen before and slowly twisted a dial. At first nothing happened, but after a few seconds, Pavel could feel a wave of pain overtake his body. As the guard continued to twist the dial, the pain increased. Black tunnels enclosed his vision and Chekov felt himself fall. Before he hit the ground, an electrical current passed through his body. He felt his muscles spasm and jerk uncontrollably as pain overtook everything. He wasn't sure if he was screaming. He could vaguely make out someone calling his name. He started to reply, but all he could do was gasp. Suddenly, the pain vanished. His body lay still and Pavel didn't move. He struggled to suck much needed oxygen into his lungs.
"What do you want?" Jim asked. Chekov could hear the absolute fury in his tone. He knew that Jim was going to do everything he could to prevent the president getting what he wanted. James T. Kirk was just one of those people.
"Leave." The president replied. "Without your precious ensign, without Koloth and without the family you're harbouring on your ship!" A part of Pavel's mind absently wondered how Koloth had ended up on the Enterprise.
"I won't leave without Chekov." Kirk growled. The president sighed. Another electric shock caused Pavel's limbs to flail once more. His vision started to blur and he felt his chest tighten. The pain was searing through his head and obliterating his ability to think. When the pain ended again, Pavel was on his side. His body was numb from the shock.
"The first blast was only ten seconds." The president said. "That was only fifteen." He paused. "Captain Kirk, I can do that to him until he dies." He said, waving an arm in Pavel's direction. "And I will, unless you leave without the Russian people you have on your ship."
"But if I go, I have no guarantee that you won't kill him anyway." Jim pointed out.
"I assure you, if you leave, the government won't kill him."
"So you'll just give him back to Drogaff! Is that it?" Kirk exploded.
"The government won't kill him." The president repeated calmly.
"If I say yes?" Jim ventured
"He'll be released and left alone."
"If I say no?"
The president nodded and a minute shock passed through Pavel's body. It was just long enough so that he visibly convulsed. Jim shuddered. The president shifted his weight.
"Well?" he guided.
"I'm thinking." Jim replied without looking at him.
The light in the president's eyes turned cold. "Let me help your thoughts along." He snarled. "K'rik!"
K'rik stepped forwards and without having to be asked, handed over a small device from his belt. The president kneeled next to Pavel's head. "I hope you're watching, captain Kirk." Pavel realised with horror as the president leaned over him that the device was an agoniser. He had been exposed to an agoniser before and instinctively knew that he would not be able to withstand the pain they caused now.
The agoniser was pressed against his temple and pain exploded in his head. This time, Pavel knew he was screaming. He could hear the noise, but it was far off and disconnected from him. The world seemed to shrink away from him rapidly. Black spots appeared in his vision and he knew that this was the end. He silently wished that the others would be okay, that they would get over this as the blackness engulfed him and drowned his senses in painless bliss.
Jim watched in horror as Chekov's body went limp on the ground. His breath caught in his throat when he noticed that Pavel had stopped breathing. They had killed him.
No. He had killed him.
His pig-headedness had caused this. Remorse and guilt swept over him and wrapped Jim's head in his own atmosphere. As he sat in shock two guards placed Chekov's body onto a gurney and wheeled it out of the room. Just before the doors shut, Chekov's right arm fell off the trolley and swung loosely down. Then the image was replaced by the doors. Jim's anger won out over his guilt. He turned his eyes to the president.
"Well now I have no reason to do what you say. I won't return the family that is on the ship. And I will not leave. I have five witnesses and myself that can testify that you murdered Chekov!" he paused. "I will launch a full scale murder enquiry."
The president turned to face him. "Goodbye, captain Kirk." He answered. The view-screen went black.