Chapter 27: Double Agent
Artyom looked over at Aleks helplessly, his lips trying to trace out words that he had no voice for. She only looked back at him with a sort of aggravated expression as if preparing to defend or explain herself. Did she have any conscience at all? Had there been any second thought or hesitation before she had pulled the trigger? Had he completely misjudged her demeanor up until now and she was finally showing her true self? Or was this just a visceral response to the world in the wake of her grief over Hunter's death?
"What are you looking at me like that for?" She had only glanced up at him for a moment but seemed to understand his apprehension right away; she was unloading the sentry's weapon and counting the ammunition to divide between them.
"Whatd'you mean, what for?" Artyom gasped out, beginning loudly but then remembering the Nazi soldiers were still somewhere nearby and hushed his voice to an exasperated whisper. "You shot—!"
"Yeah, I know what I did! But what else were we supposed to do?" Aleks growled back at him in a low tone of voice and then glanced up the escalators warily.
"So you knew something about it then? That guard. Tell me you had intel or whatever!" Artyom tried with difficulty to keep his voice quiet and still express his horror.
"What intel am I supposed to have? I know just as much as you do." She threw one hand out towards him to express the futility of his hope.
"Then what if he was innocent? Just a resident…" Artyom's voice trailed off.
"And how innocent can he be if he's working with them?" Aleks held up the fabric pouch that the Nazi squad had given to the sentry. She flipped it open and shook out the contents onto the floor between them; there was a folded paper amongst a sizeable wrapper of dried leaves and two clips of pristine cartridges. "Were you going to give the guy tobacco and cartridges then? Do you understand now? They paid him for his silence or for access to the station and the surface. Even if he wasn't a bandit, he was up to no good."
"But…" Artyom tried to come up with excuses, as if his persistence would somehow bring the sentry back to life.
"I did what had to be done so we could get out of there. There isn't always time to decide." Aleks lowered her eyes to the floor; he hoped she was regretting her choice and formulating some kind of penance inside but instead it looked as though she was trying to reinforce herself as she nodded her head with a look of satisfaction a few seconds later.
"And Hunter taught you that, too, did he? To shoot first and ask questions later? To be complacent about murder? Is that what his lessons were all about?" Artyom felt a surge of anger bubbling up and couldn't hold it back, but was he angry with just her or with Hunter too? If it was true, then he was suddenly glad that he hadn't known Hunter very well, but no matter the answer he was already mentally distancing himself from his previous aspirations.
"Just what kind of man do you think he is? Who is it you think you're trying to emulate, hm? I mean fuck its right in his very name. You don't get to that kind of rank in the Order without sacrifice, without knowing the risks and the consequences, without facing down death on a daily basis. The scales of justice are always tipped against us. He knew the cost of everything… and the price is always high for the benefit of the greater good. Even his own life." Aleks had defended Hunter passionately, just as Artyom expected of her, and he almost regretted what he said but her explanation made too much sense to try and take back his accusation so he just swallowed it all down as the humbling truth that it was. She had been quiet for a moment but then looked straight up at him and released the last of her own anger and frustration. "You joined a military force Artyom, if you can't bring yourself to kill when it's necessary then you chose the wrong profession. Don't you judge me for filling the role."
"But was it necessary?" Artyom mumbled aloud more to himself than to her but she answered anyway.
"That's not always for us to decide. In that moment, that was what made sense." Aleks finally showed a hint of remorse and he took great comfort in it, his heartbeat finally slowing down.
"But what about what Melnik said? He told us not to—"
"What about it? Taking down one target quietly and an open engagement are very different things. Melnik knows the costs as well, and better than anyone else I would think; in any case we've probably done him a favor in stopping their advance." She paused to unfold the piece of paper from the fabric pouch and studied it briefly before continuing. "This is some sort of commendation letter which will serve as proof enough for the Colonel. That man's death will send a message to others like him who are aiding the fascists and then the Reich will think twice before trying to buy off anyone at Mayakovskaya again. Think about it."
Artyom solemnly nodded his head as his resentment gradually faded away, hoping that she was correct in her assumptions of the aftermath. Even if she was wrong about Melnik's possible reaction, there wasn't anything they could do to change the past. He hung his head low and stared blankly at nothing as Aleks replaced the items in the fabric pouch and motioned to him to turn around so she could put it into his rucksack: evidence for later. And he realized that he would have to defend her decision to Melnik when they returned to D6.
"So you heard everything they said, then? And about Ivanovich?" He suddenly remembered the rest of what he had witnessed inside the station.
"Yes, I heard it. But I don't understand it… they must have gotten to him somehow." Aleks crossed her arms as she often did when she was contemplating something. "He wouldn't betray me after everything we did to escape Reich together… they must have some kind of leverage, and maybe he only went back to them as a double agent… and a double agent means he's still partly on my side."
"You still trust him? But what if he tells them where you are? About Avtozavod?" Artyom couldn't even think of the consequences of that occurrence.
"He won't." Aleks spoke with unwavering confidence and Artyom didn't try to dissuade her again. "He left with me because his wife died giving birth to their first child, it's not like he's got a lot of reasons to go back."
Artyom remained silent in melancholic horror and was jolted back into sympathy, perhaps with Aleks heading to Polis, Ivanovich feared that Roten Spaten would disband and so he thought he had nothing left there? But that still didn't make sense. What kind of leverage could Aleks have been referring to?
"So, what do you think they could possibly be doing up there?" Artyom gestured up the escalators, unstrapping his weapon from his back and mentally preparing himself for their next move.
"I don't know. Holding a surface outpost takes a lot of resources. Melnik was right that they are constantly trying to expand but they wouldn't have anyone living up here unless they completely sealed up a building somehow, depending on the radiation." Aleks shrugged her shoulders. "I guess we'll have to go find out. Are you ready?"
"Just please don't… don't do that again." Artyom said softly and lowered the visor of his helmet.
Aleks didn't promise anything and pursed her lips awkwardly while she pulled her gas mask out of a pouch behind her. Once it was sealed properly over her face, she shifted her weapon back into her hands and motioned for Artyom to take the lead up the escalator steps. Maybe that small gesture was her way of conceding to his request, he could only hope.
They stepped up the long incline of jagged metal steps which were frozen in time forever as their gears had ground to a halt twenty years ago. Artyom tried to imagine what it would be like if they could still move now, he had heard about it from the older residents at Exhibition including from Sukhoi, but couldn't remember himself what it was like to stand still on a stair step and be carried upwards or downwards like magic. He ran one hand along the banister thoughtfully, pretending after several steps that it was the railing moving and not him, although after a few more steps it seemed as though he was moving backwards and so he let go and turned his eyes forward again. These halted steps were in the same state of existence as the hundreds of trains that used to run along the tracks at top speed; nothing in the Metro was used for its original purpose anymore.
As they neared the peak of the diagonal shaft, Artyom could finally tell why the lighting was so dim. The main floor of the vestibule spread out in all directions and there were thick hourglass-shaped columns which made the yellowed tile ceiling seem low and cave-like, although the columns were at least twice the height of a grown man. Natural light came in only through a set of doors down a wide hall behind them which assumedly led out to the street. The dimensions of the space played with Artyom's mind, and Aleks too was looking above them with wonderment. He hadn't noticed immediately because of the thick green algae which was creeping along the tiles but the mosaic design above them was remarkably intact. Although the colors had dulled with age and small sections had completely crumbled away, he could discern blue and white blobs inside a large circle and a reddish triangle but couldn't tell what they were supposed to represent. The black and brown marble that the entire vestibule was faced with shone strangely as if it were sopping wet but there were no rivulets of water running along the floor, only stone dust and tangled vines. He thought about reaching out to touch one of the columns to confirm its reality but decided against it at the last second as he heard a distant and indistinct echo.
Aleks shuffled by him towards the turnstiles and that sinking feeling was becoming prevalent again. He had hoped the anxiety all had to do with Aleks' split-second decision to shoot the Mayakovskaya sentry, but it seemed that the universe still had disaster in store ahead, as usual. He had to pay attention and not get distracted. The triangulation of Aleks, the Nazi squad, and Ivanovich's betrayal was squeezing him like a vice and he feared what would happen if they came face to face with any of the Reich soldiers. Would they recognize her just as they seemed to remember Andrei Ivanovich? He couldn't allow that to happen, and despite his abhorrence of her choice back in the station, he was wrestling with Melnik's orders to not openly engage anyone. If it came to it, he would rather take a court martial than hand Aleks over to the very faction she had run from – a faction which was not known for favorable treatment of its prisoners. Then again, why would they care so much about one random citizen? Ivanovich's situation made more sense; he held some kind of important rank in Reich so of course they would treat him differently. So did the Nazis even care about Aleks' escape at all, or only because she had done it with the help of an officer? It's not like Aleks could have been a ranked soldier or some kind of political figure, right?
He glanced over at where he last saw her but she was already several paces ahead and meticulously checking every corner for signs of movement or any trace of the Nazi squad. A short flight of shallow stairs led towards the street and Artyom hastened to catch up to Aleks who was now pressing herself up against the corner of the string of doors which no longer had glass panes set in their frames. She stretched out her neck to peer at the paved plaza in front of them, looking in all directions but not seeming to find what she was looking for. She grunted and turned her attention to Artyom.
"Can't tell which way they went." She droned lifelessly through the filter but somehow he could pick up on her dissatisfaction.
"Maybe they left footprints?" Artyom suggested, hearing his own voice slither out through his visor and appear as a wriggling stream of vapor. "It looks like the snow is fresh."
Aleks gave an agreeable nod and turned her head back to the plaza, this time scanning along the ground for tracks. An elated gasp confirmed the findings and she aimed her weapon at them to point out to Artyom the direction of travel – eastwards along Tverskaya Street.
There was a sparse flock of unidentifiable avian creatures flapping haphazardly across the limitless grey sky as they hesitantly exited the ornate building onto the sidewalk. The wide eight-lane avenue studded with rusted out skeletons of vehicles of all different shapes stretched onwards farther than Artyom could see. An endless row of strangely decorative buildings began across the plaza on both sides of the street and followed its gentle curves. The same rolling grey puffs of smoke filled the sky and obscured the probable sunset with its reddish tinge leaking into the rest of the canvas like spilled blood seeping into brackish water. The same whistling moan of the winds through the twisted remnants of tree trunks and jagged broken windows swirled around them. Everything was the same as it always was up here; dismal, lifeless.
Artyom scanned his eyes around in a full circle along the rooftops as he heard that same indescribable echo again, his stomach tightening as he expected to turn fast enough to come face to face with some monstrous creature that was just out of sight. Instead, only some gangly black birds took flight from the half-collapsed roof of the building behind them and Artyom let out a relieved breath. But something was still left where the birds had been roosting, only half the flock had gone? No, the shadowy shape was merging as Artyom took a step forward and tilted his head up to get a better view. The lumpy black silhouette was motionless, yet described the familiar shape of a man's head and shoulders. Artyom stared hard for a long minute, trying not to blink until he couldn't hold his eyelids apart any longer. When he looked back the shape had shifted, and suddenly it withdrew altogether, perhaps finally sensing that Artyom could see it. He blinked a few more times to make sure it was truly gone, and then immediately turned to see where Aleks was.
Twenty paces onwards, she was slowly yet nimbly following in the bootprints of the Nazi squad and didn't seem to have even noticed that Artyom had paused just outside the doors. He looked up at the roof line once again but it was as vacant as all the other buildings seemed to be. Turning reluctantly, he rushed after Aleks, trying to fit his own steps into the prints they were following just as she did. He thought that when he caught up he would tell her what he saw but at the same time he didn't know exactly how to describe it. Could he even be sure that the figure, whatever it was, was even alive? It could very well have been a cloth or some other refuse being blown in the wind, or more of those birds just huddled together but it moved as one entity and with purpose. It had to be human; but what kind of human? Was there another detachment of Reich soldiers taking shifts watching the Mayakovskaya exit as well as the hermetic lock? He wished he had taken a peek into the tavern as he passed to see if there were any more soldiers in there besides the three they were currently trailing after.
Suddenly a tiny and previously presumed inconsequential tidbit shot to the forefront of his memory and Artyom turned on his heel in one swift motion to look at the rooftop again in alarm. 'A hooded figure' just like in Aleks' vision after colliding with the anomaly, exactly as Artyom had imagined it when she had told him. Then, was it Hunter? But that was impossible; he certainly couldn't have been on the surface for the entire time since… or could he? Maybe Artyom had been more correct in his wild assumptions that Hunter could have been transformed by the Dark Ones into something more like them. They didn't choke on the atmosphere or decay from the inside out from the invisible particles of nuclear radiation like fragile humans did. If it was him, was he some kind of phantom? Stuck between the physical world and the afterlife like Khan had said about Heaven and Hell being atomized by the same warheads that ruined the whole city. Or could it even be a Dark One? The ghost of one? Weren't they all dead?
"Artyom!" Aleks hissed voicelessly through her respirator.
Artyom snapped back again and looked over at her, she had taken a knee behind an uprooted tree, and weak rays of light were sporadically poking out of the roots behind it and shifting, signaling a moving source. Without any further time to think, he bounded up to her and crouched down beside, and his instincts proved correct as the loud choking roar of a motor engine began to reach his muffled ears. The streams of scattered light soon angled away and then faded as the vehicle must have turned. Aleks cautiously peered between a gap in the knotted roots to confirm the departure; patting her free hand at his shoulder to beckon him to come and see.
"That's one of their transport trucks. There's probably at least an Unteroffizer, could be Ivanovich." Aleks spoke in a low voice because whispering was useless through the filters.
He slowly straightened up so he could see over the top of the trunk for himself. A lifted truck body covered in iron grates and strange padded panels was receding down the avenue at a slow ramble as it trundled over tree roots and other small obstacles. If he had any doubt as to its purpose, the stylized black and white logo of the Fourth Reich station banners was painted onto a piece of plywood tacked onto the very back.
"They aren't going very fast, we should follow." Aleks gestured with her head and pulled the Vintorez up by her shoulder.
"What will you do if it is him?" Artyom grabbed at her arm before she had a chance to stand up, wanting more of a solid promise that she would restrain any more brash actions before they moved on again. Part of him was still thinking about Hunter when he asked but the original intention was about the possibility of running into Ivanovich.
"I… I don't think I'd know what to say to him right now. I just need to know if it's true." Aleks dropped her eyes as she spelled out her thoughts, then looked back up and shook her head. "I won't interfere with their business, I just have to see."
That was confirmation enough for Artyom who nodded his acceptance and released his grasp. As they got back to their feet he felt the urge to search the rooftop again but there was nothing there anymore. He shook it off, trying to quiet down his interpretation of the vision the anomaly had supposedly bestowed on Aleks. The chances of that figure even being a whole person was astronomical, let alone the probability of it being Hunter. Even if it was him, he couldn't let it distract him or Aleks from the task at hand; the Nazi squad was driving onwards in an armored truck and they had to follow it to find out what exactly they were doing on the surface.