September 22, 1982
Leningrad , USSR
11:45 am local time
Max hummed an old tune as he exited his shower and prepared to dress himself when the phone rang off its rocker.
"Chert! Why now of all times?"
Clasping his towel onto himself as he scurried over to the phone and picked up the yellow receiver before putting it up to his ear. "Zdravstvuy!"
"Max, I hope you are done resting. Now that we have handled the issue with Tolstoy, I need both you and Danilenko back into the field."
The KGB field agent let out a sigh as he listened to his superior Colonel Zaitsev. "That is good to hear. So will we finally be on our way to Siberia, huh?"
"Yes, I take it you are thrilled about your latest assignment?"
Max just chuckled. "Sure, why not? A frigid ice box beats being stuck in my boring apartment with nothing to do but watch reruns of old American shows like I love Lucy or the Three Stooges."
He heard a groan on the other end from his superior. "Oy, Maxim. What you think is your sense of humor can be a pain in the zadniy. And don't get ahead of yourself. We are technically in the final stages of summer so don't assume that I am sending you to a refrigerator."
"I will make sure to enjoy the final summer day as it ends in 12 hours. You are aware of that, right?"
"Whatever, Max. " Zaitsev sighed. "Just get down to Moscow pronto. I need someone to transport you and Danilenko to one of our nearest airfields so you can board the chopper to the Tunguska region. Sooner or later, our buddies at the GRU will be on the same page as we are and I want us to beat them to the prize before they start sniffing around in our business again. That is why it is imperative that you make haste."
"I got it! I am on my way now. I will arrive shortly."
As Maxim Fyodorov hung up, he started to question the competition between Zaitsev's KGB and Dragunov's GRU.
Wouldn't it be more beneficial if we worked as one rather than be partitioned. My father had taught me that teamwork was an effective method of solving an issue. What is Leonidovich hoping to accomplish by dividing the GRU and KGB for this objective? I thought two brains were better than one. Never mind, I will stick to what I am paid for and let Dragunov and Zaitsev squabble for a prize like two schoolboys in the playground. It works out for us all.
---
"You know what you are about to do?"
As the rotors of the silver Ka-27, adorned with the red Soviet star, started up and its entrance opened by a KGB crewman, Max stopped in his tracks to face his superior. The bright sun blazed down upon them from the zenith of the sky, almost the same color as his partner's, who stood by him ready to accompany him across the Urals to face something that looked like it was from the Twilight Zone, hair. Despite Petro being green, Max commended the boy for the fact that he was choosing to risk his life, sanity, or both for the greater good. The same couldn't be said about the other lads like him.
"Yes, we are to investigate two sites in that forsaken tundra where two different incidents have taken place," Max explained. "It is to be done as soon as possible to give us leads on where to find our quarry before the GRU beats us to it."
Standing in front of a few officials dressed in the tan garb of KGB officers, the plump director chomped on a Cuban cigar as he nodded in approval.
"Very good, Maxim. It seems that you are up to the task. How about your buddy?"
Agent Fyodorov glanced to his left at Danilenko, who seemed to be trying to compose himself, but Max noticed the nervous look in the boy's ocean blue eyes. Sparing him the awkwardness, he turned back to address Zaitsev.
"He couldn't be more ready than he already is. He knows the risks fully well and is mentally preparing himself for any obstacles. In other words, he is prepared to act accordingly in any situation and nothing will catch him off-guard."
Zaitsev chuckled, his round belly jiggling through his coat. "You have a way with words."
"Thanks, I really try." Max shrugged as a sliver of an amused smile appeared on Petro Danilenko's face.
"Oy, Max." Zaitsev rolled his brown eyes before waving the agents off. "Off with you both. Make haste already as you are all aware that time is awasting!"
"No need to tell us twice. Let's go."
With that, Agent Fyodorov grabbed Petro's hand and yanked him toward the helicopter. As soon as the aircraft took to the air, Max spotted the Colonel standing with his subordinates on the tarmac of the landing pad that served the nearby KGB outpost, the draft from the lift off making their coats flap into the air like birds while the dry vegetation around them rippled like a pond. Once they took to the air, blue filled the air around them with the exception being the gleaming metallic buildings of the city to their left.
"Hey, I think I saw the Colonel's hat fly off."
Hearing Danilenko giggle, the agent glanced out the window toward the ground where the humans slowly melded into the scenery. He then stared at his partner, more like a subordinate, with a sheepish grin.
"You sure it wasn't one of his junior officers? I swear, the one with the pot belly, Jumayev, I think, looks like he could be Zaitsev's long-lost son, don't you agree?"
The two used this time to bond as their helicopter made its way east of the Urals. In addition to investigating the former laboratories where the Secret Brain project was conducted as well as the bases of the doomed Spetsnaz team that was assigned to capture their current target, Max had another scheme to add onto their objective.
"Petro, have you ever heard of the Tunguska Event? Well, you are in luck as we are going to check it out while we are there. I mean, who wouldn't want to?"
----
"Attention, we will be landing at Yasny in a couple hours. All passengers are required to remain seated for the duration of the flight as we are expecting heavy turbulence due to a storm that is imminent. We thank you for your cooperation. "
Seated inside the Il-18 plane, GRU operatives Mikhail Plekhanov and Fyodor Borodin sat alongside dozens of GRU staff and servicemen as they made their way to the Yasny military airport. Their mission was to investigate the events that had transpired in the central region of Northern Siberia over a year ago to possibly gain an edge over their KGB rivals. The goal was to investigate what used to be the Motherland's Secret Brain facility, the rumored birthplace of Stroynyy Muzchina, as well as the surrounding forests and airfields where it was spotted.
"Can you believe that our quarry was responsible for the massacre of a whole squad of Spetsnaz troops? How would a few meager GRU operatives like us be a sufficient force to contain it?"
Plekhanov was staring out at the blue-gray horizon over dark clouds past the whirring propellers when he heard his partner's question. He turned his gaze over to the younger yet taller man.
"Perhaps the smaller the party, the higher the chances we have of capturing it. Keep in mind that with a smaller group, the element of surprise is in our hands. Also, there is something I need to confess to you."
Borodin's ears perked up. "What's that?"
"While we are here, I want to check out the site of the Tunguska Disaster. If anything could yield clues to a supernatural phenomenon, I can't think of anything better than the crater. Besides, the buffoons at the KGB wouldn't even have the thought cross their minds."
It wasn't long until the Ilyushin carrier landed at Yasny airport and its crew escorted them to their destinations. As the air crew bustled about to make the transition a smooth one while the GRU staffers focused on their own objectives, no one thought to glance into the gloomy woods that surrounded the perimeter of the airport separated only by a barbed wire fence. Had one individual spared a glance, they would have spotted a tall lanky figure as pale as the moon observing them. Watching and waiting until the time was ripe.
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