The Visitor (26 page)

Nikolay showed the official the documents that ordered the release of Neema Lhamo and Jamyang Gyamtso. The Chinese official read the document, picked up a phone, made a call, and talked for several minutes. He then looked over the counter at the captain and Nikolay and told them, in Mandarin, “The two people you are here for are in a jail. They will be brought here in two hours.”

In the usual fashion of Russians who sailed, the captain, Nikolay, and the two Russian sailors utilized the time to find a bar that had vodka, while the captain filled out the necessary papers for the ship while in harbor.

Feeling better with vodka, Nikolay and the other Russians later returned for the prisoners but found that they were not there yet. Less irritated than they might have been, thanks to the vodka, they went outside to wait, sitting on a barrier and smoking. Half an hour later, a military truck, with a canvas top over the truck bed, pulled up and stopped in front of the office. Two soldiers with Chinese AK-47 rifles got out of the back. The two Tibetans got down, handcuffed together.

Nikolay noticed that, with their darker skin, the Tibetans were quite different looking than the Chinese.

Nikolay and the captain of the ship went inside, and the captain was given documents to sign that he was taking the prisoners out of the country. The soldiers who delivered them insisted on taking back their handcuffs and they retrieved them. Nikolay saw that the Tibetans had some slight facial bruises. Apparently, they’d had some differences of opinion with their jailers or transporters over something.

Although Nikolay had no handcuffs with him, he and the Russian crewmen presented a sufficient deterrent that Tibetans did not to try to bolt. They knew that they were being exiled from China, but that was all.

The Russians led them to the ship and ushered them into the hold adjacent to the one set up for the Chinese. At first, Jamyang Gyamtso resisted, but two crew members changed his mind by lifting him off the ground by his arms. The young lady, Neema Lhamo, followed without resisting.

The human cargo secured, Nikolay told the captain to set the good ship
Sokol
sailing to Vladivostok, Russia. Once outside the magnificent Hong Kong harbor, Nikolay and the crew went into the cells, setting them up for the comfort and safety of the prisoners, in accordance with instructions from the baron.

Gyamtso and Lhamo looked about as Nikolay and the crew brought in a table and two chairs, a portable toilet, and two mattresses, which were laid on the floor. Nikolay did not know if the Tibetans played mahjong, so he had bought them a new jigsaw puzzle, a jungle scene with tigers that would take many hours to complete.

The Chinese prisoners were brought from their hiding place in the secret panels in the lower hull and taken back to their compartments, followed by the crew bringing back the things for their comfort.

The group of seven was then en route from Hong Kong to Vladivostok, where they would be officially turned over to Colonel Vladislav Tupkalo of the Federalnaya sluzhba bezopasnosti Rrossiiskoi Federacii, who, with a group of Russian soldiers armed with assault rifles, would be officially transporting them, with written orders, as prisoners across Eastern Russia on the TransSiberian Express.

***

“Just call for me, sir, and I’ll bring the car back to this spot,” Roger told Andrew as he and Shanta got out of the limo in front of the VIP entrance to Churchill Downs. Andrew wore his usual blue jeans, but he’d put on a regular shirt and worn a tan sports coat, as the event called for that in the area where they would be seated. Shanta wore a green sari, the only sari at the event.

As they walked in, Andrew said, “My father used to have horses, and he brought me here.” It was as if Andrew was coming to the race as a matter of recalling good memories of his youth and his father.

“Do you have horses now?” Shanta asked.

“No. But there are some at the stables on one of Dad’s properties. I let the neighbor girls use them when Dad died. They don’t have money for their own. Actually, I guess they are mine, come to think of it.”

“Don’t you like horses?” Shanta asked.

“Not really. I was thrown off a huge horse when I was little and never rode much after that. My dad liked them very much, however. He never had race horses, just riding ones. But he liked to come here, and he met lots of friends here. I preferred to ride a trail motorbike.”

There was much excitement in the air with one hundred thirty thousand spectators. On the fourth floor of the clubhouse seating Andrew’s company owned two boxes, one for the executives and a private one for his father, which was now his. They were in the best location, in what was called Millionaires Row in Skye Terrace. On Derby Day, there was a buffet nearby, but Andrew did not want to go there as he would, no doubt, have had to socialize with executives of the company. He ordered a bourbon, and Shanta her usual tea.

As they waited for the race to begin, Shanta said, “I hope we hear from the baron soon.”

“Do you think we should call him for a progress report?” Andrew asked.

Shanta shook her head. “He said that there was to be no communications between us. We dare not.”

They looked out at the race track, as the first race was about to begin.

“Do you bet on the horses?” Shanta asked.

“I just like to watch.”

The truth was that she would have loved to place a bet, but since it was his money she dared not ask.

The first race took off. The excitement of the crowd felt like a tangible thing as the horses charged around the field and, finally, there was a winner.

After the first race, the crowd quieted down. Shanta turned to him and took his hand. “Darling, I haven’t much, but there is something I have that I have decided that I want you to have.”

Andrew studied her curiously. “What?”

“My virginity.”

CHAPTER 19

Traveling on the TransSiberian Express, even though they were in chains, was, nevertheless, an interesting journey for the prisoners, who had never before traveled anywhere, except for the two Tibetans, who had been taken to Hong Kong on their way out of Tibet. They sat by windows enjoying the scenery. The blood-red colored railway cars, although designed for higher speeds, rumbled along at only sixty to eighty kilometers per hour, because of the condition of the rails, which was always bad, due to the severe weather conditions. The train went through several mountains with long tunnels, one of which took over ten minutes. They passed many little villages along the way that were made up of different races but, due to the unification tradition of the Soviets, they did not wear unusual clothing. Route Number One on the Express was from Moscow to Vladivostok, while Number Two was from Vladivostok to Moscow. The trip went by Lake Baikal, the largest freshwater lake in the world, so vast it took hours just to pass it.

Finally, on the fourth day, the train arrived at the town of Omsk. There was no trouble, as people in Russia were so respectful of authority, even after the breakup of the Soviet Union, that no one dared question prisoners under guard. Since the prisoners could not speak Russian, they could not communicate anything to others on the train, and it was easy to move them from Vladivostok to the remotest part of the country without incident. Obviously, the prisoners were in some sort of trouble, or so it seemed to the others on the train, and they did not wish to join them. The Russian soldiers selected by Tupkalo were in combat gear, armed, and had a formidable demeanor.

Omsk, in south central Russia just above the Kazakhstan border, was as close as they could get by train to Stepnogorsk. The prisoners were surprised to see a familiar face, that of Nikolay Bogomazov, who was waiting there to meet them.

Nikolay had arranged for a military truck and driver to meet his group at the railway station. It was a large, olive-drab truck, with a canvas covered truck bed with two benches, one on either side. The soldiers accompanied the prisoners into the truck, which would go as far south as the border. Four of the Chinese were put on one side, and one of the Chinese and the two Tibetans were put on the other. All the prisoners were chains. There was a protest from one of the Chinese, but a gun butt in the stomach from Tupkalo quickly ended that.

The ride to the border was on a very windy, narrow, dirt road. Snow could be seen on the ground off to the side of the road as they went through the mountains, but it had melted off the road. The road had giant potholes, occasional farm animals, and antique-looking tractors--going only slightly faster than walking speed--all of which made progress toward the border slow. Dust rolled up the back of the truck all the time and covered the prisoners, as well as the soldiers, who had to sit at the rear gate to prevent any of the prisons jumping out--although that would have been next to impossible with their chains locking them all together. Nikolay and Tupkalo rode in the front seat with the driver as they bounced along.

Under an overcast sky, they arrived upon the Kazakhstan border. The Russian soldiers ushered the prisoners out and stood by for the exchange in guards. Their journey had ended, and they would return to catch the next train back. Four men, who Nikolay had hired, could be seen standing across the border in Kazakhstan. They were, however, some of the toughest available in Russia. The four were from Ural, the mountain chain in Western Siberia, where one had to be tough just to survive. The shortest was six feet, two inches and their weight ranged from two hundred sixty pounds to three hundred twenty. They were Zuhk, Opanasenko, Yageltchuk, and Timoshenko.

The sky darkened to charcoal gray, even though it was midday, and soon a spring snow began, rapidly increasing in intensity. Nikolay and Tupkalo walked up to the Russian border guard shack and went inside. The border guard was sitting in a chair behind a small desk. He did not initially rise, as there had been hardly any activity in the area, let alone from anyone important.

“I’m Colonel Vladislav Tupkalo of the Federal’naya sluzhba bezopasnosti Rossiyskoy Federatsii,” Tupkalo said smartly. He took out his identity billfold, which displayed not only his current FSB card, but also, on the other side, his former KGB, or Komitet Gosudarstuennoi Bezopasnosti, card, which he liked to keep as a sort of badge of past honor.

The border guard immediately acted as if he’d gotten a shot of adrenaline, stood up, and came to attention, barking off, “Yes, sir!”

“I’m delivering seven prisoners to Kazakhstan,” Tupkalo said. “I do not want to register the transaction.” By that he meant that he wanted no record of their names, as would normally be taken down with persons crossing a border.

Russian soldiers were used to such things, and so the border guard did not question the high-ranking officer. “Yes, sir!”

Tupkalo went outside and ordered the soldiers to march the prisoners across the border and transfer them to the four huge guards waiting for them. The border guard raised the wooden gate, and the Russian soldiers ushered the prisoners across. The Chinese had their knapsacks returned to them to make them feel a little better. The colonel also delivered a package, wrapped in brown paper and containing six pistols, two automatic rifles, many extra clips, and lots of heavy ammo, to be delivered to the lab for security pursuant to Nikolay’s request.

Once the prisoners were across, they were ushered into the back of a similar truck to resume their journey into Kazakhstan. Nikolay and Tupkalo went to one side of the truck, where they could not be seen, and Nikolay gave Tupkalo the fifty thousand US Dollars. In return, Tupkalo gave him the keys for the chains, allowing Nikolay to keep the prisoners chained.

Tupkalo counted the money with wide eyes, having never had such a sum at one time. He was rich!

On the Kazakhstan side was another guard shack, but it was tiny and the man inside did not even come out. He had already been promised a bribe by Nikolay for overlooking the crossing of the prisoners and, although actually not a lot of money, the bribe was the equivalent of two month’s salary. Nikolay did not give him any more than necessary so as not to make him suspicious and, with so little activity in Stepnogorsk for years, he was quite glad to accept the amount offered.

All of the prisoners got into the truck peacefully, except for the Tibetan male, Jamyang Gyamtso, who refused to get in. He had a chain around his waist that was connected to the next prisoner in the truck and, since there was no slack in the chain, the man in the truck ahead of him was about to be pulled out.

Anatoly Zuhk came over him and thumped Gyamtso on the top of his head with his knuckles, making a noise like a drum. That quieted the man down, and he then got into the truck. He appeared dizzy after the tap on the head.

The snow and cold wind increased. Opanasenko passed out blankets to the prisoners to cover themselves, so they would not fall sick, as the truck headed into the narrow, mountainous, desolate trail to the south, heading for the place known only as Post Office Box 2076, where, known only to a select few, the deadliest organisms to humans existing on the planet were still alive.

***

At Building 221, the sky was dark in the middle of the afternoon, but this was not unusual for the area. Spring snow fell, and a cold and unfriendly wind pierced the prisoners’ clothes like that of an Arctic winter. Inside, near the lab in the back, jail cells remained from the days of the Soviet Union, built for prisoners brought in to be subjects for exposure to horrific bio-warfare agents. The main use of those condemned prisoners was for anthrax testing, as that was what was made in huge quantities at the facility in its heyday. But the anthrax had become so highly developed that there came a time when there was little need to continue testing, except to confirm that new batches were just as lethal as the previous ones. So there had been ample subjects for Dr. Dorogomilov to use for his own pet projects with Ebola. The jail cells had not been needed since the Soviet Union breakup, and so they were just used as storage rooms. He’d cleared them out for the current project and told the maintenance man, who stoked up the furnace in the mornings, that he needed those cells heated, along with another part he would use for the multitude of monkeys and rabbits that were to be brought in to be exposed--he said--to the fungi under development for killing opium poppies to make sure that the experimental chemical was safe for animals.

The high-containment operation recovery rooms were still there, equipped with left-over medical equipment. The high-containment area was insulated from the main building by a series of three chambers with air-tight doors to prevent whatever was being used on the subjects from escaping. The outer doors led into an additional, large containment hall, also with a fourth air containment door, where pressure suits were hung up in one of the chambers. They would have to be pressure checked regularly for leaks, and patch kits were on-site for repairs. The middle chamber to each room was built like a big shower with a hose that supplied chemicals to wash off the containment suits. The doors were all oval-shaped submarine doors, which was where they came from when the building was built. The airtight doors could all be locked from the outside to prevent the subjects or contaminated persons from escaping.

Mice, rabbits, and monkeys arrived in quantities, transforming the place into a smelly zoo. The monkeys shrieked and jumped all about when anyone entered.

Drs. Dorogomilov and Volkova hired six local women and three men, who were out of work, to help out. They were extended family of Dr. Dorogomilov’s deceased wife, except for two who were close enough to be trusted. They did not, of course, have any idea of what they were really doing, only that they were working on the special fungi testing to kill opium poppies, and that details of the work were to be kept secret, in hopes that the process might be patented if successful.

All the helpers would go home in the evenings, as though it was an ordinary job. A special bus was hired to fetch them from several pick up points, designed to reduce the inevitable chatting and questions with other passengers that they might meet on the public bus. The help were not allowed in the back area where the prisoners were to be kept and, to reduce any interest in going to Dr. Dorogomilov’s lab, the helpers were told that they could not enter the back without special showers and clothes just before going in, as they would bring contaminates in to the specially clean laboratory research areas.

The truck with Nikolay and the human cargo arrived. Hearing that, Dr. Dorogomilov rushed to the front of the building, much like Dr. Mengele at Auschwitz learning that more twins had arrived for experimentation.

Nikolay made the prisoners get out and stand in front of the huge building. Dr. Dorogomilov walked around them once and studied his new subjects. The prisoners stood quietly in awe and fear, wondering what was in store for them. They were led inside and past the section where cages had been set up with mice, others with rabbits, and larger ones with monkeys. Seeing the humans, some of the monkeys shrieked and others jumped from the sides of the cage bars, scaring the prisoners.

When they reached the rooms for the prisoners, Nikolay and his guards unchained and separated them. Tai, Sum, and So were motioned to undress and shown into a shower. Their clothes were gathered and taken away, they thought for cleaning, but in actuality to be disposed of as unsanitary. After the Chinese men showered, they were each provided a two-piece, gray, cotton outfit that would be their attire at the lab, one that could be washed like hospital scrubs. Shown to the cells, one of the men, Tai, resisted being locked up and was holding his head after Yageltchuk persuaded him to change his mind.

It was then time for Mee and Ma to shower. The two women modestly resisted undressing in front of the guards, and the guards began to chuckle. One of them moved in to force Mee out of her clothes, but Nikolay realized that they still had a good chance for cooperation and motioned him back.

“I’ll get the women to shower. You go on,” Nikolay said to the guards.

The guards left reluctantly with the three men, disappointed that they were missing the free show with the naked women. Nikolay led Mee and Ma to the shower door and allowed them their modesty by leaving the room. There was no other exit or trouble they could get into, and so he opted for obtaining their cooperation as long as it would last. When he heard the showers shut off, he waited a minute and went in. Ma and Mee had already put on their gray cotton outfits, to avoid being seen naked, and had bundled their clothes. He then led them to their cells, after which he told one of his men to make them tea, as he had been instructed by the doctors that they could not have solid food that night as there would be medical tests on them in the morning.

The Tibetans, Jamyang Gyamtso and Neema Lhamo, were next. Nikolay determined that they were getting along well together and decided to have them shower and dress together. They seemed to feel more comfortable together, speaking their native tongue to one another, and were given a cell to share. Tomorrow was going to be a special, and unfortunate, day for the prisoners, as experimentation was to begin on their tissues.