Chapter Twenty-Six: Betrayal

The gleaming monorail carriage slid smoothly along the track, stopping automatically at their predestined station barely five minutes after its departure. Artyom glanced over at Aleks who had been excitedly watching the tunnel through the front windscreen as she had the previous time but now looked back at him eagerly, as if waiting for him to lead the way out to the platform. He quickly disembarked and unfolded the paper that the Colonel had given him and buried his face in it so he wouldn't have to attempt conversation right away.

This little station was the same as the other few he had seen along the monorail system, a rectangular cave carved into the earth beside the track, simple light blue square tiles on the walls and square columns. Everything was square, and the floor was bare without so much as a box or bench to sit on, with only cobwebs and small piles of dust and debris in the corners along the floor and ceiling. He had come through this way with Ulman barely a week ago when they were headed to the church, so he knew that there was nothing threatening nearby. The lights weren't on here now, but Artyom didn't bother to head for the control room to turn them on; instead switching on the little light attached to his helmet and swiveling his head around in search for the door that would lead away from the D6 territory and back into the regular Metro tunnels.

Aleks didn't make a sound and followed him closely and complacently, methodically loading a full magazine into the Vintorez and checking her corners with its attached tac-light even though the place was empty even of rats.

Artyom spotted the exit on the far side of the platform, and wasted no time in turning the hand crank to unlock the heavy bolt system which kept the Metro-2 permanently sealed off from the normal one. He figured they would have to return the exact same way in order to properly lock it again, unless someone would show up after them to continue mapping the passage or to stand watch if Reich soldiers had taken up a post at Mayakovskaya. Artyom sincerely hoped that they wouldn't come face to face with anyone when they eventually exited the maze of hallways out to the regular Metro.

The door gave way to a tall staircase, spiraling upwards around a central column filled with pipes and wires; in here at least the emergency lights were shining at spaced intervals along their climb. Reaching the top after a long minute, they paused to catch their breath and Artyom tried to compare this new hallway to the map on the paper after noticing that there were five open doors to choose from.

"Always… stairs…" Aleks huffed, "Ugh."

"Stairs… and sewer pipes." Artyom parroted absentmindedly, as his attention was focused on the instructions.

"Ew, let's hope it doesn't come to that." Aleks wrinkled her nose at the idea as she could probably imagine the smell. "I prefer ventilation shafts myself. In fact I was planning on scouting into Mayakovskaya like that, if possible."

"What for? You don't think we can just walk towards the station and see who's there?" Artyom lowered the map for a moment and paused his examination. They hadn't yet discussed any specific details of how they would accomplish their tasks, and he wasn't entirely certain which one of them should be the one in charge. Was he supposed to let her take the lead and then simply report back to Melnik about how she had handled herself? Ulman hadn't been a huge help in explaining any of this to Artyom, he had mostly just recounted his own experiences with new recruits and Artyom couldn't relate to them at all. Aleks had already proven to be a sly tactician, with plans and backup plans for everything, and Artyom was certainly no military strategist.

"But what if there's a guard post? Even if there isn't a watch on duty, we can't go in there with full kit in the name of the Order, we're supposed to remain unseen, remember? So, if I can crawl into the air ducts and just get far enough towards the tavern to overhear what's going on then nobody will be the wiser - except for us." She winked playfully.

"And I'm supposed to just let you go and do that alone, am I?" Artyom said sarcastically, hoping his loaded question would make her rethink her plan, or at least understand his position. He was ultimately responsible for her safety – ordered not only by Melnik but by Nikolai as well, not to mention what Hunter would have to say about it all. How would he have handled this kind of assignment?

"Well I'm a better fit for that kind of approach, don't you think? Literally. If you want to walk the tunnel then I won't argue, at least you have your passport to back you up… but they aren't going to just let us waltz in and then go up the escalators to the surface either, so we're going to have to sneak through somehow. Even if there's no one from Reich, there could still be bandits in there." She pushed her brows together angrily and pressured him to agree with her.

"Well this map says there should be a way to the surface through here," Artyom pointed to the blueprint. "We shouldn't need to go all the way into the station to exit if we can get out through there."

"Alright then, we'll check that, too." Aleks gave a nod and softened, trying to give him reassurance and a sense of choice. "Which do you want to do first?"

"Might as well check the exit first since we're already in this maze." Artyom tapped the paper and then extended it towards her so they could both look at it. "See here?"

"Lead the way then, Artyom, boss, sir!" Aleks saluted with a coy grin which was infectious.

Artyom only hoped that this lighthearted feeling would last in both of their hearts, because that worrisome pit in his stomach was fighting against her warm gesture even now. At least when it came to the tunnels and passageways he felt somewhat confident, but once they got to the surface, any number of things could happen.

Twenty minutes later, they had wound through the last stairwell marked on the instructions which should eject them into a police station. But upon climbing the stair tower, they were quickly halted by a smattering of concrete debris blocking the way. Artyom craned his head to try to look up beyond the blockage, but couldn't tell where the mess began or ended. Bits of metal rebar and twisted pipes stuck out between the crumbled slabs at a steep angle, essentially putting a lid over their heads so they couldn't reach the next landing. He could see a recess in the painted concrete shaft higher up which was probably the exit, but it would be impossible to climb up through the central column which seemed to be partially supporting the weight of the ruins. Perhaps with the right team of people, the blockage could be cleared away for a safe exit, but as of right now there was nothing the two of them could do to get through.

Artyom let out an annoyed breath through his nose, descending the twenty or so steps to where Aleks had fallen back to the corner landing.

"It's hopeless." He grunted and gestured vaguely towards the concrete slabs piled up behind him.

"To the station, then?" She asked with a hint of excitement and he wondered again why she seemed so exuberant. Most new recruits were stunned silent by the very nature of their merit assignments, teeth chattering and hands clutched white-knuckled around their guns.

"How are you so calm about all this?" He blurted out, and then turned his head away awkwardly; he hadn't wanted his annoyance about the situation to transfer to her.

"What do you mean?" Aleks seemed hurt by his comment somehow, as if he had meant that she wasn't taking their mission seriously. Artyom wished he could take it back, but it was too late now.

"Well I mean, like you seem actually happy to… like you aren't worried at all?" Artyom studied the floor intently, not wanting his own worry to infect her.

"Of course I'm… well, not worried, but aware. I think it's time for your own lessons, Artyom. Come on, sit here and listen for a minute." Aleks crouched down and settled with her legs crossed on the landing, patting the dusty floor beside her as an invitation to him.

He did as she asked, mostly out of curiosity, but more so out of confusion. What kind of lesson could she mean? Taking a deep breath, he settled down in the same fashion and opened up his mind for the task.

"Hunter used to tell me that listening was always more important than talking, than moving, than breathing even. You have to get to know your surroundings, understand them like a close friend, look and listen – to everything." Aleks paused and then searched his face for his understanding. "If you don't know what is normal in a tunnel or a station, then how can you tell when something is wrong with it? It's a constant process, and you can't just forget about a tunnel or a hallway once you've been through it. You have to keep it up here," she tapped her temple gently with one finger. "Keep it in your mind, picture it if you can, and that's your real map to the Metro."

"Okay, I think I get it… but how does that help you stay calm?" Artyom lowered a brow and leaned his head back disbelievingly.

"It's about trust…" Aleks gazed off at the wall momentarily, probably trying to hear in her mind Hunter's exact words. "Trust in yourself. You can acknowledge your fear, you learn to live with it sitting inside of you, but you don't ever let it have control. Are you in charge of your mind, or is it in charge of you?" Her voice even sounded a bit deeper at the end, as if she were channeling the Stalker's own voice through her throat like in a séance.

"I-I don't know… sometimes…" Artyom mumbled quietly, not wanting to recount or even think about his nightmares and visions; feeling like a hostage every time the Dark Ones entered his mind.

"Well now is the time to find out." Aleks stood up straight in one fluid motion and held her hand out as if to help him up as well. "It takes practice. We all have to start somewhere. I'll help you as much as I can. Okay?"

Artyom gravely nodded his head as his thanks and only took her hand to complete the gesture because he didn't really need her help to get up. He tried to force a smile but she was already starting to descend the stairs, so he would save that small amount of energy for the upcoming practice.

He led the way out to the Zamoskvoretskaya line easily, as he had already come through here a few times with Ulman; he wondered where the motorized trolley was that they had ridden to Belorusskaya on their way to the Church, was it still parked at the Hanza border? How many other Rangers came and went through here from D6?

In the tunnel, everything was quiet, with only a faint static noise filling his ears which was the omnipresent vortex of air running through the tubes that ancient man had carved into the Earth so precisely. Remembering Aleks' idea, he darted his flashlight around in search of the nearest air duct but Aleks had found one first, having taken advantage of his slow reminiscent pace to dutifully carry out their mission. Artyom felt almost as if the roles were being reversed and maybe Melnik was testing him, too – making sure that he was still fit for duty or seeing if he could at least compete on the same level as Aleks? But he hadn't had the luxury of personal training from a veteran of any force, and Aleks had seemed to receive almost more than her fair share. Did the Reich give combat training to all their citizens, as Melnik had mused about? How competent was Aleks in battle before Hunter had met her? Evidently she had known just enough to get the Stalker's attention, so then what could all of his lessons have been about? He only hoped that she would keep sharing them with him, and maybe then he could feel more confident in calling Hunter a mentor of his again, as the title had most certainly passed to Melnik or Ulman in the last two months.

"Give me a lift, will you?" Aleks whispered loudly, dragging Artyom out of his thoughts. "And hand me my weapon after."

Artyom did so without hesitation, taking a knee and cupping his hands to grasp her boot and haul her up towards the large square mouth of the ventilation ducts. He looked down to see the Vintorez leaning against the recess of the tunnel liners and tenderly picked it up, but he didn't have any time to ruminate over it or its previous owner because Aleks was whispering at him again.

"I'll see how far I can get… I think the tavern is up on the left?" She awkwardly stretched a hand out of the opening because she didn't have enough space to turn around and face him. Somehow she managed to fumble the rifle into position to balance on her back with one hand. "See how far you can go into the tunnel; maybe the residents are being cordial today. I'll meet you up there somewhere."

"Be careful," he replied back sternly, wanting to say more but completely unsure as to what words would be helpful right now.

Aleks didn't answer, and he could faintly hear her shuffling through the ducts as he slowly turned to head towards the station. Mayakovskaya. He tried to remember what was there; it was an independent residential station, and he vaguely recalled a small market and arguing with some woman but couldn't remember any other details. He didn't know a single thing about this tavern that Melnik and Aleks kept alluding to, and Aleks had said there were bandits as well as the possible Reich insurgents. Did she try to keep track of every bandit-laden station, or was it only because her home station was at the other end of this very same line? Avtozavodskaya was, let's see, five stops away, and Artyom knew that it could take more than two days trying to cross through both the Fourth Reich and the Red Line to get past all the other stations along the way. But on a speeding silver train? It might have only taken ten minutes. If only that kind of journey was still possible, then he wouldn't worry so much about her if she decided to return back to Avtozavod.

His turbid tirade of wondering took up all the time and space for him to reach the border of civilization, the dim lighting of the once grand Mayakovsky station began to reach his eyes and he switched off his own light so as not to draw attention. Cautiously walking closer and closer, he came up to the hastily prepared barricade on the edge of the platform. A low rumbling echoed along the filthy marble floor as the inhabitants of the station chatted away and conducted business with each other. There were no guards, no one had been expecting him, and nobody seemed to care that he had arrived either. He stopped at the barricade made of pallet wood and barbed wire and crouched down; he had never even unstrapped his weapon from his rucksack and was unsure if he should do so now. Aleks' words about walking in there in the name of the Order rang in his head, and he suddenly understood that he was a representative of the force and any actions he undertook would affect people's perception of the Order as a whole. She was right; they couldn't just run in with weapons and full armor and demand to be let outside. And then wouldn't the residents or other such inhabitants wonder where they had come from or why they were really there? Their open intrusion could also draw unwanted attention to the corridors they had taken to get here, and the door to the Metro-2 was still unlocked.

Artyom strained his ears to listen, as Aleks had directed; he could only make out some vague shapes and whispers down the far end of the platform, and most of the voices were coming from the main hall. He looked around the upper halves of the walls and the ceiling to try and determine where Aleks might be in the air ducts, but couldn't figure out in his mind how they may have twisted and turned behind the once-decorative façade of the station walls. The arches were wide and airy, and the ceiling was molded into multiple domes with large ovals cut out. There were no grates visible on any part of it. Maybe the ducts only led to the outer sides of the platforms above the tracks? Then which side could she be on?

He began to dare himself to venture on further, having seen no people nearby. The area was far too dark to describe any certain shapes and he took comfort in the darkness, knowing that nobody would be able to make out his shape either. The voices began to draw him in, and he crept closer to them, trying to figure out who they belonged to and what their purpose was.

"Ten minutes left, boys, get your fill while you can!" A raspy voice echoed faintly along the floor and bounced up into his ears, muffled through his helmet.

"I'm not looking forward to going up there, but I guess Ivashov's guys did a bang-up job scouting everything out." Another deep voice drawled out slowly as if the person was drunk.

Ivashov, Artyom confirmed the name in his head, nodding to himself as he understood it must be the very same Ivashov that Aleks and Melnik had mentioned being a stalker platoon leader. So then had the Nazis already taken over Mayakovskaya and the surface above it? His curiosity led him forward; there was a ramshackle little room built at this end of the main hall, and more voices tumbled out from the open doorway. His stomach rolled uncomfortably as he deduced that the tavern was built right up against the hermetic doors – the exit. But what about at the other end of the station?

Before he could answer his own question, a group of men in stark black uniforms and rounded helmets trundled out of the room, staggering a bit as they playfully jostled with each other and finished their drinks.

"Come on you assholes, Boris is waiting to let us out." Spoke a squat soldier as he puffed on the end of a cigarette.

"Yeah and we better not be late, Ivanovich has been on a real warpath since they gave him his rank back." Another man whined apprehensively. Artyom felt his heart jumpstart into a new rhythm prematurely; it was a very common name and had to be a coincidence.

"Andrei Ivanovich?" The third soldier, tall and lanky, said with surprise, "Wasn't he a defector? Why would they let him back in? I figured it'd be a bullet to the head for him and that bitch that went with him."

Artyom froze his already hesitant advance, taking the gruffly spat out sentence into his brain and dissecting its every syllable. The circumstance was far too similar to the minute bits he knew about Aleks' escape from Reich to be coincidence any longer. These soldiers were speaking of the very same Andrei Ivanovich who had awoken him at Avtozavod and then caused the whole unfortunate scene in Venice. But hadn't Ivanovich gotten back to Avtozavodskaya? Khan said he had travelled there with him from Dobrynin, hadn't he? But Dobrynin was on the Circle line and that spy named Sturmann had been at Paveletskaya earlier that same day. Why would Ivanovich have chosen to go that way if he already knew that – if he was being hunted the same as Aleks? And his rank, it sounded as if he had been some kind of mid-ranking officer, a sergeant maybe? Or whatever the equivalent German-named rank was for that. No one from Roten Spaten had ever filled him in on those details. He glanced around again with furtive agitation for where the air ducts might be, could Aleks be hearing all of this too?

"Who fuckin' knows why? Führer decided on the matter himself, so I heard. I guess they had dirt on him the same as he knew a bunch of sensitive information. State secrets, you know. Either way I have to deal with him getting on my ass again if you cretins don't get a move on." The stunted squad leader grumbled loudly as he stomped out his cigarette.

Artyom allowed them to gain some distance so that he could dart across the main hall to the other side behind them, perhaps he could get a better look at the men from this angle, make out any of their ranks or see what they were carrying. They looked to be just a normal squad of infantry, no heavy equipment, no radio, no explosives. Nothing special at all, so what could be going on up there on the surface?

As the end of the hall neared, Artyom hung three archways back to watch the exit procedure. As he had overheard, there was a man waiting at the hermetic lock. Just one? Artyom strained his eyes to see into the dark blurs of the side-halls as there was a fire glowing in the middle of the vestibule. There didn't seem to be anyone else around, where had all the residents gone? He looked around behind him uncomfortably, where was Aleks? Had she not been able to find a way through? If she hadn't gotten close enough to have heard anything, then he would have to inform her of Ivanovich's betrayal himself and the very idea soured on his tongue. How would she react to that kind of news?

"Here you are Boris, compliments of Hauptman Smirnov." The leader of the group spoke in a low but jovial voice as the group of Nazis stopped at the end of the hall in a semicircle around the solitary sentry.

Artyom carefully watched the exchange; some kind of fabric pouch was handed off to a scruffy man dressed in layers of brown and blue rags. This man Boris must either be a guard or a bandit, Artyom couldn't tell which, and he couldn't tell what was being gifted to him in that pouch either. Some form of payment in any case because the man smiled maliciously and turned to operate the hand crank of the heavy iron gate which curtained off the escalators.

That stinging fire of curious apprehension was pressing Artyom's body forward, his limbs beginning to twitch and react on their own as if to follow the Nazi's right up the escalators, but his mind was frozen on one thing: Aleks. Where was she? He couldn't continue forwards without her, maybe she hadn't gotten too far in the air ducts and had to double back. They hadn't set a specific rally point but the three Nazis were already beyond the cordon and ascending the toothy metal steps to the outside world. If he let Boris close the door again then they might not be able to get out of Mayakovskaya at all. Artyom didn't have his own little pouch to pay the sentry with.

Just then a resounding ripple of sound whizzed by his ear, a miniature sonic boom like a little torpedo through the dense air of the station; the sentry seized up and doubled over and then crumpled to the floor like an empty sack, the rags fluttering out beside him. A forceful echo of running footsteps entered the space next and Artyom's heart pounded in his ears. Dead? The sentry was dead, but who had shot him so precisely?

"Artyom, get the lever!" Aleks hissed in a shrill whisper from behind him, trying not to draw any more attention as she ran forward and slid on one knee towards the dead man.

Artyom couldn't think his own thoughts but somehow through her curt order he understood exactly what she needed him to do. Without the sentry's strong grip on the wheel, the heavy iron door was slowly creaking back downwards of its own accord. He dashed forward awkwardly to catch it, leaving just two feet left by which to escape. Aleks had already darted up, taken the pouch from the dead man's hands, and shuffled under the iron curtain with her weapon in hand. She began fumbling with something else as he watched it all in slow motion; she had also pulled the sentry's abandoned weapon across the floor and was hastily tearing off its sling and tying the end of it up into a knot.

"Quickly!" She hissed again, throwing the leather strap to him. "Use this!"

Once again her intentions jumped straight into his mind and he got to work instantly; he looped the leather through the hand wheel and stretched it out as he began to crawl over towards the door. The strap was meant to hold the wheel in place while he scrambled underneath. Thankfully there was just enough ambient light from the angled chamber so he could see what he was doing but it wasn't so bright as to alert anyone who might be nearby to the commotion. The strap was just long enough for him to get the bulk of his body under the heavy door and he only hesitated for a second to take a breath, trying in vain to calculate the chances that his arm would be crushed the minute he let go of it.

The door creaked downwards slowly under its own weight as he released the strap and Artyom could only stare silently at the form of the dead sentry laid out on the floor, a pool of dark liquid spreading from beneath his head. She had shot him squarely in the left temple and his eyes had rolled back. Artyom swallowed a faint whimper of confusion as his mind caught up with reality, and he began to pray - pray that nobody had seen or heard them - and that nobody else was going to open the gate to come after them. But of course, all the inhabitants of Mayakovskaya knew that this exit led up to the surface, and even the most ruthless of bandits were smart enough to not go skulking around up top. Only the squad of Nazi's seemed to know what awaited them at the top of the escalators, and they had already disappeared from the long angled column of frozen steps. Aleks had done everything in just the right calculated amount of time, so the Nazis must not have suspected anything at all, but why did she have to shoot the sentry? Did he really have to die in order for them to leave the station? And what would happen once they climbed up to the top of the vestibule? It seemed that nobody in the station heard the silenced shot from the Vintorez, so that man Boris could be laying there in the dark for hours or days before anyone noticed. Artyom seriously hoped that he was some brand of bandit, because only then could he excuse her execution of him. Hadn't Melnik said not to openly engage anyone? But Boris definitely wasn't a Nazi, and so Aleks hadn't technically disobeyed Melnik's order. They would have just enough time to confer before trying to follow the Nazi squad to their destination – to meet up with Andrei Ivanovich.