‘Aleks? Dezhurov? Jesus, you are out the loop, aren’t you? There’s a nationwide search going on for him after he was named chief suspect in the murder of Lev Ryumin. The man killed his best friend — can you believe it?’
Sean had nothing to say. All the questions he had prepared in his mind escaped him in an instant.
‘Anyway, it looks like this whole thing is a dead duck. I suggest you get yourself back here for debrief and reassignment. There’s some crazy stuff about to happen in North Korea, and I want you on it.’
‘How many people came back?’
‘What?’
‘How many people were on the Soyuz craft that returned?’
‘The same number of people that were on the station — three.’
‘What about Sally? And Gardner?’
‘What about them? I know what you’re thinking, but they never went up. They were on the ground as consultant experts. And the Progress vehicle that went up had no one on it. We checked into that, and NASA confirmed.’
‘And you bought that?’ Sean yelled, not believing what he was hearing.
‘It’s a damn sight easier to swallow than aliens, Sean.’
For the second time in that brief conversation, Sean was knocked speechless, but not by shock this time — by blind fury.
The voice at the other end didn’t wait for him to talk. ‘Why don’t you take a couple of weeks off before you come back. Have some time to get this whole thing out of your system. We’ve got people here I can put on the empty space station story, so take this opportunity to recharge your batteries. I know what you’re like — you work too hard, get too involved, and I don’t want you wearing yourself out. You’re no good to me like that.’
‘This is bullshit.’
‘Alright, well I’ve got a meeting now,’ the voice continued, ignoring him, ‘so I’ll speak to you later.’
The speaker clicked. The voice was gone. Sean continued to hold the phone to his ear, lost in a flood of thoughts and feelings that pinned him to the spot. He stood like that for a long while before he made his way back to the house with Grigory, where he relayed the story to Aleks.
‘What?’ Aleks said, his face looking like he’d just been slapped.
‘That’s what he said. That you killed Lev.’
‘That’s… that’s…’ Aleks spluttered, his cheeks blooming with red anger as he paced around Grigory’s living room. He stopped, balled his fists and yelled something incomprehensible. Then he sat down. ‘Bales…’ he moaned through his hands. ‘This is all Bales…’
It made perfect sense. Bales could destroy Aleks without needing to point a weapon, without even needing Aleks at all.
‘I’m sorry,’ Sean said. ‘I’m sorry I got you into this.’
Aleks dismissed him with a wave.
‘I’m a grown man. I chose to get involved. This isn’t your fault.’
‘So what do we do now?’
Aleks sat back in his chair and sighed, his bushy, greying eyebrows forming a frown. ‘We nail this son-of-a-bitch.’
Sean tossed and turned that night, the phone conversation going round and round in his head. Was it true? Had he been misled by his trusting nature? That would make him an aide in all of this… He turned over again, the sheets clinging to his skin. No, Lev Ryumin had been killed by Bales. He knew it was true. Or was it? Perhaps Aleks had him roiled up in a big web of lies, all fabricated to protect himself from the long arm of the law. After all, the only person who had mentioned UV One to him was Aleks. Lev had only implied its existence. The whole thing seemed to be unravelling in his mind the more he thought about it, and it made his stomach heavy as a rock to realise how deep in he was. But what about the email from Bales, his orders to investigate and destroy UV One? Sean winced when he remembered he hadn’t seen the email with his own eyes — everything he knew he’d been told by Aleks. All at once he felt anxious about being in a house in the middle of nowhere with a wanted criminal and his ex-special forces brother, who, he realised, was pretty handy with a butcher’s blade.
The next morning, Sean woke to find the house empty. There was no sign of either Aleks, who had been sleeping in the main bedroom, or Grigory, who had taken refuge on the sofa, and the house looked as it had done late the night before.
‘Hello?’ Sean called, his voice loud in his ears. No answer came. He looked out the front window; Grigory’s truck was gone. Trembling panic made his knees weak, and he stumbled to the front door to slide the bolt shut, which slammed home with a dull thud. What was he going to do now? He couldn’t run, he was in the middle of nowhere, and… well, he was starting to feel silly. Sitting down, back leaning up against the door, he shut his eyes and took measure of the situation. Aleks couldn’t have killed his best friend. Why would he? In the cold light of day, the voices in his head that had wound him into a stupor the night before seemed a lot fainter.
He groaned as the predicament rolled around in the wash of his mind, and in a single frustrated moment, he decided what to do. Hauling himself to his feet, his heart spiked as he realised his stun gun, which he was about to get, was drained flat; he had forgotten to recharge it. Shit. Rethinking his plan, he went to the kitchen, listening out for Grigory’s truck. He took the biggest knife he could find, the one Grigory was using to carve up musk deer the night they had met. It was weighty, imbalanced by the long, thick blade. Along its cutting edge it shone bright, the metal sharp and gleaming only where it needed to be.
The crunch of tyres on the loose road and the chug of an engine sent Sean running to the window, heart thundering, knife in hand. Peering through the blinds, he saw Grigory’s truck pull up to the kerb outside. He and Aleks got out. Sean unlocked the bolt and backed up, grasping the heavy knife in both hands. He held it out in front of him like an axe, ready to drive it home the moment he was provoked. The handle turned and the door opened. Aleks walked in. He was chatting with Grigory, who was following him up the footpath, laughing. When Aleks saw Sean, his face dropped, wide eyes moving from the knife, to Sean, then back again. Grigory pushed past Aleks, and also stopped when he saw Sean. They all stared at each other, locked in an unspoken stalemate, and the silence that held them apart grew longer. It made Sean tired, his heart beating fast and his limbs moaning with a dull ache. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t want to be the one to push the first domino.
‘What are you doing?’ Aleks said, breaking the unsteady truce.
‘I’m protecting myself,’ Sean tried to say with force, although his voice came out flat and thin.
‘From what?’
‘From you.’
Aleks’ face was one of shock, of confusion, but it wasn’t a look his brother shared; Grigory had the same expression he’d worn when Sean had first met him: suspicion.
‘I don’t understand…’ Aleks said, his wide eyes unblinking.
‘I’m not sure you’ve been telling me the truth.’
Something changed on Aleks’ face. ‘Everything I’ve told you is the truth,’ he said, taking a step towards Sean.
Sean retreated back, thrusting the knife out further in front of him. ‘Stay where you are!’ he yelled through gritted teeth. ‘Don’t come any closer!’
Aleks lifted up his hands, palms outward, but the instant Sean glanced at them, Grigory pounced. Sean slashed with the blade, but Grigory countered, knocking back against Sean’s arms with his own. Then Sean felt a large, hot hand clasp his wrist, and a sudden agonising pain shot through it. Grigory retreated. Nursing his empty hand, Sean stumbled back, quivering with pain and shock. Grigory passed the knife to Aleks. He then reached into his jacket and retracted a handgun, matt-black and snub-nosed, which he cocked and pointed at Sean. He walked over to Sean, gun levelled at his face, and stopped with the muzzle inches from his forehead. Sean shut his eyes, his tightening throat suffocating him, forcing his breaths to become fast, ragged gasps. All at once he felt numb, distant, as if he were buoyant and weightless. He waited, but the pain never came, nor the flash, nor the thunder.