Part II

Part II

Visibility was low as Russian Lieutenant General Aleksandr Astapkovich’s two Jeep entourage made their way through the Kazak winter towards “The Fortress”. The trip had been treacherous and nearly fatal for the other Jeep which had been following nearly the whole way from South Russia.

Astapkovich rode in the passenger seat of the leading Jeep. He was a man of 52, huskily built. Salt and pepper hair covered his head, and a thick mustache of the same color, modeled after, in his eyes, the great Josef Stalin, hung from under his nose. With eyes of a hawk, Astapkovich was a frightening man held with high respect and admiration from his subordinates and fellow ranking officers. The higher ups continued to feel threatened by the military prowess of Astapkovich.

Dressed in his olive green military suit, Aleksandr was prepared for a highly secretive meeting. His officer’s cover, decorated with the Russian insignia on the front lay in his lap. Underneath, his hand sat securely wrapped around a Tokarev TT33 pistol. “Always be prepared for the unexpected,” Astapkovich would tell his troops and he lived his advice.

Driving was a young Russian private who had never been outside his native land. Aleksandr studied the way the boy gripped the steering wheel. It was obvious to him that he was nervous. He was gripping the wheel so hard that his knuckles were turning white. The slippery conditions of the road had to have been a part of it.

The snow was falling hard, and with the Jeep’s high beams on it was creating a snow globe effect. “The Fortress” was in view and the long journey was nearly complete. Astapkovich breathed a sigh of relief. The journey had been a success.

They pulled up to the marked perimeter of “The Fortress”, guarded by two Kazak soldiers bearing AK-47s. Dressed in a heavy camouflage uniform, the two soldiers walked to the sides of the car, their boots crunching in the snow.

The first soldier approached the driver. “Identification please,” the soldier said. The driver complied, handing him his military identification. Astapkovich surrendered his as well to the soldier, while the second was checking in the back of the Jeep and underneath for any items or personnel not permitted within the gates.

“Thank you gentlemen,” the guard said returning the identifications. “Please allow us to check your escort. It will take but about five minutes.” The two guards proceeded to the accompanying Jeep and performed the same safety checks.

Astapkovich kept an eye on them in the side and rearview mirrors of his Jeep. Everything seemed to be in order, as the two soldiers made their way back to their post. They reached their guard house and raised the red and white entrance barriers. The first guard gestured to the driver that access had been permitted and they drove on, the second Jeep close behind.

“The Fortress” was a hexagonal shape with a large building built in the center. Two guard towers were built halfway between the interior building and the outer wall. Each wall had a connecting bridge that extended towards and connected to the interior building. The general layout of the building was like that of a medieval castle, the outer wall, with interior buildings and a courtyard.

The two Jeeps were greeted by many more guards, all of which were bearing an AK-47, as well as two snipers posted in their guard towers. All of these soldiers and guards made their way towards the Jeeps. Astapkovich quickly concealed his pistol into his holster so it would not be seen. He as well as his three comrades stepped out of the Jeeps and grouped themselves together in front of the first vehicle.

From the groups of soldiers emerged a man distinctly different in dress. This man stood tall and erect, as he made his commanding strut through the mass of his subordinates, wearing a military officer’s uniform. Small, round spectacles sat on the bridge of the middle age officer’s nose. The gentleman had thin brown hair wrapped around his ears and to the back of his head. The blue military cover hid whether the man was balding or fully covered. Not a trace of facial hair could be found on the man’s thin face.

“Greetings Lieutenant General,” the gentleman said with a salute to the higher officer.”

“Greetings,” Astapkovich greeted, returning the salute.

“I am Colonel Vladimir Ostakovich and I welcome you and your entourage to ‘The Fortress.” I expect your journey from Russia was well?”

“It had its moments but overall not many problems,” Astapkovich responded, not exactly paying attention to the Colonel. He looked around the interior of the building, eyeing the two snipers standing in their guard towers. They stared back at him, before returning to their posts.

“The project your country has funded is near completion, and if we step inside, we can explain the progress we have made.”

Those words shot through Astapkovich like a bolt of lightning hitting a tree. He wasn’t pleased. “We were given a guarantee that the project would be completed by the time I had arrived. Are you going against the words agreed upon by our two governments?”

“My apologies, Lieutenant General.” Ostakovich chose his explanatory words carefully. “We had a breach of security not too long ago that has delayed our progress. We have him detained at the moment and have been trying to extract information from him, as we develop your project. I give my word, sir that we are near completion.”

   Aleksandr accepted the explanation, but wasn’t pleased by the plans being delayed.

Vladimir dismissed the guards that surrounded their visitors. “Lieutenant General, if you please, we can go inside, have a drink and some food, then proceed to the laboratory to see the completed project. Does this meet your approval?”

“Let us proceed, but I should like to meet this hostage you have in your hands.” Astapkovich said, gesturing the Colonel to lead the way. They began walking, and Astapkovich took another look around the courtyard. Looking up towards the towers, he noticed both guards were missing.