‘It’s a recon mission, Sergio thought in order to comfort himself, ‘just to gather information and see what they are doing and then we’ll go right back.’
He looked over at Marco again, her fingers were clenched tight on her weapon and a few errant strands of her hair were floating about in the breeze, highlighted by the half-crimson sky. He couldn’t see her eyes or expression through her gas mask at this angle but he could sense her apprehension. Another hundred meters ahead, the truck was now sitting idle in the middle of a large clearing where another road intersected Tverskaya Street; its engine groaned and sputtered, sounding as if several parts had been hastily replaced since its original assembly. It seemed that whoever was inside it had vacated and gone into one of the surrounding buildings but it was hard to tell from this distance and he hadn’t been fully paying attention to it.
They slowed their steps as they neared the open square and Sergio looked around in search of movement and assessed their surroundings. Almost all of the buildings on both sides of the avenue were interconnected, leaving no alleyways in which to take shelter or circumnavigate the truck. All of the storefronts and apartment foyers looked desolate, stripped of anything that wasn’t part of the actual structures. There were no doors anywhere, no glass in the windows, no furniture, no shelves, and no people either. Why would the Fourth Realm bother using ground vehicles if they were not occupying any of the buildings? Or were he and Marco already nearing the Tverskaya and Pushkin station entrances? Sergio didn’t fully understand how the distance in the tunnels correlated to walking over land between stations but they hadn’t come too far from Verona on foot so the entrance to the Realm stations must be much further than he was imagining. In that case there must be some kind of outpost up at the crossroads but what was its purpose? Was it fully manned and stocked with supplies for surface treks and invasions? How many men at a time might be standing guard on the surface so far from their home station? It seemed to require more resources than it would be worth to hold such a random position, and as Marco had said earlier there couldn’t be anyone living up here full time.
Catching the briefest glimpse of a beam of light beginning its scan across the walkway, Sergio was just quick enough to catch Marco’ arm and used her own momentum to swing her aside into an enclosed doorway. In his haste he had sort of tackled her, pinning her flat against the wall with his upper body as if to shield her from detection. Only a quiet confused murmur escaped her as she twitched her limbs in protest but she seemed to quickly understand that Sergio’s actions had a purpose and that he was watching for something just past the edge of the wall.
Two men in the familiar smart black uniforms with overcoats and respirators with long hoses were patrolling unhurriedly along the avenue which crossed Tverskaya Street ahead of them. Sergio strained his ears to listen for any potential conversation but the men gave nothing away. The light from their lamps began to wane as they passed by and only then did he withdraw and allow Marco her freedom. She stretched out her neck and looked behind her shoulder towards the square and, seeming cautiously satisfied with Sergio’s sharpness, she looked over at him as if to apologize for being distracted. At any other time Sergio assumed that she would have noticed the enemy patrol first but since their argument just outside Verona she had grown solemn.
“Maybe we should climb up in this building before we find ourselves surrounded.” She said quietly as she jerked her head up to indicate the plan.
Sergio looked around to assess her idea and look for alternative options before he replied with only a nod of his head, turning his attention into the shadowy building in search of the stairs.
The ground floor of this building was expansive and laid out in a strange manner. In the middle of the building was a wide staircase which curved around an empty basin under a huge metal-grated dome which left the place open to the elements as the glass panes had probably shattered and been blown away ages ago. Whatever fancy purpose this building was designed for no longer worked for the purposes of the city’s current inhabitants; the dome let in far too much of what was left of the light of the sunset and if they were to use that staircase they could be seen from above because there were still several more stories to the adjacent buildings above them and the Nationalists could be posted anywhere nearby. Marco slowly made her way towards the rear wall where a long marble counter was still mostly intact; the letters on the wall read, “регистрация” and so Sergio deduced that this place must have once been a beautifully grand hotel.
They agreed to split up reluctantly in order to check both ends of the building for alternate stairways. Hotels especially liked to hide them away from the guests because they were usually designed to be functional and not fancy, of course there were elevators but none had a hope of carrying them up to the top floors as they once did for people. Sergio soon found the correct passage and began to walk back to alert Marco when he heard voices on the other side of the wall and he froze in place to listen.
“What are we looking for, anyway? This is only my second shift up here and there’s nothing left in any of these buildings.” The voice was one of the men from the tavern, reverberating through the respirator’s tube.
“We’re looking for the entrance to that bunker, you idiot. Führer has become obsessed with the idea of moving in there; haven’t you heard the latest speech about how there’s all kinds of food and medicine inside?” Another unfamiliar man spoke his answer gruffly through his own hose. So that was their game, or at least part of the purpose of the Realm’s presence at Verona – they were looking for D6. Sergio started to feel guilty about leaving the door to the monorail station unlocked and he began to formulate his exit strategy, but he already had the feeling that reporting this overheard conversation to Marco wouldn’t be enough for her to want to return to the bunker so quickly. Vera would also want more details about what the Nationalists might have found already, and to know how many soldiers were on patrol here; the mission wasn’t over quite yet.
“I don’t think that’s true, or even if it is the Order has probably doled out to Polis and Losla and their own guys already. By the time we even find an entrance everything will be gone.” The voices grew quieter as the men were probably continuing their patrol route beyond Sergio’s position, not stopping to have their conversation.
“That’s beside the point! Conquering the bunker represents power, prestige. Imagine the kind of impression that kind of victory will leave on Comrade Moskvin!” The second man let out an amused grunt. “And don’t forget the control over the missile silos, the Order already wasted one of them on those mutants last month.”
“Ahh, now I see what you mean.” The first man’s voice had faded significantly and there was no further comment or reply; perhaps they had rounded a corner and gone on to their destination?
Sergio remained frozen stiff in the pitch black hallway for another moment, waiting for assurance that the men had gone. He listened for footsteps and heard one pair softly advancing towards him but somehow he knew it was Marco and so he lowered his weapon before she approached. That knot of anxiety was still tied up in his stomach and the responsibility of protecting her was almost becoming too much to think about. The men surrounding them weren’t just hostile, they were a violent faction actively searching for his companion, a woman he admittedly only met a week ago, but his emotions were already tied to her despite his attempts to rationalize his reactions.