The words written by the woman echo in the mind of the scientist, with her desperate attempt to leave a record of terrible events and warn who would retrieve her legacy. Her struggling calligraphy overlaps for a moment the view of the two frozen men in front of him. A flash of awareness enlightens the eyes of Ivanov for a second. He caters to the soldiers who gathered around the scene. “Yuri, Eve, let’s move away. Captain, check out that there aren’t any other remains. Contact the base and order them to bring here the dogs as soon as possible. They can sniff out for other corpses buried in the snow. Meanwhile, load these two bodies on the helicopter. We’re going back to the laboratory. When you have finished with the task, just wipe away all traces of our presence. Now hurry up, the Americans won’t be long in coming.”
The soldiers hasten to obey. Dmitriev moves away to store the camera in his bulky black plastic case. Ivanov and Arsentiev move away from the group. The questioning gaze of the woman explores the face of the scientist. His hawk-like predator gaze now seems to harbor a hint of worry.
MOSCOW – FEBRUARY 2014
Time and vicissitudes have not been lenient with the face of Alexander Ivanov. The man seems to have barely exceeded sixty. His look seems tired and worn. His stare is haunted and almost absent, as those who have experienced and continue to relive unspeakable horrors through their mind’s eyes. His blond hair now has a splash of gray on the temples, yet, despite everything, his appearance still instills a certain feeling of extremely determined authority. The scientist wears an anthracite-colored dress and sits with is back upright.
The room is lit by an anonymous fluorescent tube, the walls are gray and bare, there’s no unnecessary furniture, with the exception of one large table in the center of the room. On the other side sits a stocky man, dressed in an impeccable suit smelling of laundry. He’s almost completely bald, only a clear hint of fuzz runs around the lower part of his head, like a too wide crown. Clear eyes look at the other with the piercing stare of those accustomed to see beyond the people’s pantomime, every day.
He talks with the slowness of who’s leading the game. “So, Dr. Ivanov, let’s recap again the whole story. We must be absolutely certain that we won’t overlook anything.”
The other takes a breath in between the impatient and exasperated, and bows his head in his hands, as if to rub his temples. “Captain Leonidovich, I’ve told over and over how the events took place. We should concentrate our efforts to find that man before…”
The other raises both hands as if in a gesture of surrender, interrupting him abruptly. “Dr. Ivanov, we know who you are, and how much the nation is in debt to you for your research. You are a well-known distinguished scientist, no one doubts it, however personally… well, forgive my frankness, but I don’t like your field of study. According to the information I have, it’s since…” The man browses documents, pretending to look for information that has already been imprinted in his mind. “Here it’s. Well, since 1983 you direct a research center in Antarctica. The nature of your experiments – I read here – is “such that it’s unwise to perform them on the inhabited continent.” Your information access level is so high that you can only report to state leaders. Now… I don’t care what you do at that lost and forgotten by God place and, although I find it hard to believe it, I read in your report – “a few cells of the TH1-N6 organism can trigger an infection that can wipe out the entire animal population of the planet, in an estimated time of about three years”, what interests me is to understand how someone managed to get down there, break into an underground laboratory that is supposed to be very well protected and steal a capsule with a sample of this goddamn virus!”
The scientist’s expression is unreadable. His dark eyes fix those of the government agent in front of him for many long seconds. “The man”, Ivanov answers slowly, like recalling an unpleasant memory, “had an accomplice inside the lab, one of my most trusted assistants. I believe that…”
Leonidovich interrupts him again. “Oh yes, here he is, Yuri Dmitriev. According to the video recordings he died by a close-range gunshot in the neck, probably inflicted by his accomplice as soon as he put his hands on… the vial, or whatever it’s. Why, I ask, would one of your most trusted assistants, betray you, and the whole nation, and endanger the entire human race?”
“I have no answer for this, Leonidovich, I can only hazard a guess. Dmitriev had changed over time. He became nervous, prone to pessimism, his mood progressively darkened. I thought all this was due to stress. It’s hard to live in a continent where even just looking at the sky outdoors puts your life in danger… Months and months in an underground laboratory, not to mention the experiments and the things of which we were witnesses, as well as the implications of some discoveries… I can’t go into details with you, officer, but I assure you that even the most steadfast man might falter. There are thresholds that should never be crossed.”
“That same man – sorry for interrupting you again – I read here that he voluntarily caused an accident that resulted in the loss of two lives, although I couldn’t view any surveillance video recording….”
Leonidovich looks up to Ivanov as if to push him to go on.
“Yes, I have already told you several times how the events took place. He needed a diversion, so he tampered with the containment suits of two of my assistants, who were exposed to the infection. Fortunately, we were able to intervene immediately, to contain the spread. The laboratories were designed for this kind of drawback. The mess that ensued was planned by that man, to facilitate the theft of the sample.”
“Drawback… For Christ’s sake, are you human beings? There are people who died, Dr. Ivanov, they were not laboratory mice! ”
Leonidovich shifts in his chair, crossing his legs in a vain attempt to assume a more comfortable position. After a quick glance to the last one of the sheets of his dossier, he looks up at Ivanov, however, keeping his head down. “Among other things I understand that among the victims there is also Dr. Eva Arsentiev, one of the scientists closest to you, or rather your companion… Talk about a trusty assistant, Ivanov! What is the reason that prompted him to do all this? What’s really behind this? A kind of personal vengeance? You tell me!”
Dr. Ivanov’s gaze is as cold as ice, as he watches the agent, almost like a guinea pig ready for vivisection. “I already said I don’t know why Yuri Dmitriev did what he did. Now listen to me welclass="underline" there is no time for these games, Leonidovich, there is no time for bullshit or for pain. In a few years no one will remember our feelings, our sacrifices and our points of view. Only the consequences of our actions have weight, both in the present and in the future, and it’s to these that we should pay attention. If that sample is released or put into contact with an animal, life as you know it will end forever, in no time. The last things that you and the people close to you would see – before you die – would be horrors that you can’t even imagine in your worst nightmares!”
Moments of silence, while a baffled Leonidovich observes Dr. Ivanov, apparently undecided about his judgment.
A beep breaks the tension. The agent approaches one hand to his headset. A female voice is barely audible on the other end of the table.
Leonidovich nods, while listening to the message, then imparts some instructions to the operator.
Once the communication ends he turns back to Ivanov. “Let’s pray to God that your predictions are overly pessimistic, Dr. Ivanov. By analyzing the video of the laboratory surveillance system in Antarctica, we have identified the man we seek. It’s a Chechen terrorist, linked with some cells of Islamic extremists. His name is Pyotr Dmitri Zaytsev. A bloodthirsty asshole, sought by government agencies across the world. Your virus, or what-the-hell it is, could not have come into worse hands.”