For Whom the Bell Tolls
The Colonel’s tower, 7 October 2014, 16:18:09 AFT
“You disappoint me, Major. After all that I have told you, you still fail to understand.”
The notes from the pen drive are still flickering on the Colonel’s computer screen, but though he has finished reading it, Tarasov can’t see any change of expression in the former Marine’s face.
“But this proves that you were framed! You did not commit those crimes!”
“Can’t you understand that we were not running from justice? We are not renegades and outlaws. We are the Tribe now!”
Tarasov sighs. I don’t even know what I was hoping for.
“No,” the Colonel says, looking out of the window into the wilderness. “We will never return. This is our home now. Tell this to the Beghum. I know it was her who sent you to find this. She could never comprehend…” The Colonel falls silent. After a long minute he turns back to Tarasov and takes something out from a wooden box. “Anyhow, you have my gratitude for your efforts. This is for you. I will also let you re-supply from our armory. Take whatever you like – I’m sure you’ll find something useful.”
“Thank you,” Tarasov quietly replies.
“You have also proven yourself worthy to be called a warrior. For many, we are the worst enemy but for you, we will be the best friends.”
Removing the oilcloth wrapper from the Colonel’s gift, Tarasov sees a beautifully forged combat knife. A delicate pattern runs down the blade, and its razor-sharp edge glows with a pale red hue. The weapon is not only beautiful as an object in its own right, but has obviously been alloyed with fire-emitting artifact too.
“This is our special Ka-Bar, as used by our warriors. Take it and bear it with honor.”
“You didn’t even ask me if I wanted to join your Tribe,” Tarasov boldly says. “I do have my own duty, that of my own country. I am still an officer of the Ukraine.”
The Colonel looks at him as if Tarasov has uttered the lowest profanity. “Don’t mistake a gift for recruitment. Even if you begged, I wouldn’t take you in. You are a friend, no more and no less… for now.”
“Fair enough.” Realizing how much he has overestimated his standing with the Colonel, Tarasov hesitates for a moment before continuing. “But there is something I need to ask you. As a friend, with all due respect.”
“And what would that be?” the Colonel asks, his voice promising nothing good.
“The Stalkers at Bagram are under attack by the dushmans and their allies. If the Tribe doesn’t help them, they will be annihilated.”
“So what?”
“If you helped them, you would have an ally to watch your back. They have traders too who could supply you with everything.”
The Colonel mockingly laughs. “We don’t need anyone to watch our back. Nor do we need Ashot’s rubbish.”
“You seem to have excellent spies, but they didn’t report everything to you. There is a technician there too. Name of Yar. He can work wonders with weapons.”
“You test my patience, Major. Didn’t you see that blade? If we go to such lengths to improve the most basic of weapons, what do you think we do to our rifles? We need no tinker man. But why do you care so much about them? You are with the military after all.”
“You think they are without honor, and you are right: many of them are scavengers, trespassers, adventurers, killers and robbers. They are, because in the end Stalkers can rely on no one but themselves. Right now you can teach them what honor means and make them your friends, and that would be a good thing for the Tribe. Because what good is there in being everyone’s worst enemy, without being anyone’s best friend?”
The Colonel keeps looking at him with the same measured state. Tarasov is at the end of his wits. There is no way to influence this man. Whatever I say keeps rebounding off him.
Leaning against the wall with his hands, the Colonel now turns back to the window, drumming his fingers. Tarasov stands patiently awaiting a reply for so long that he begins to get the feeling that the Colonel has forgotten about his presence. It therefore startles him when the Colonel suddenly addresses him again.
“Would you be ready to die for your men, Major?”
“I am a soldier, trained to kill and to stay alive,” the major replies without hesitation. “But if dying would make a difference… I would take it on as a sacrifice with meaning.”
“Well spoken. Too bad there are bigger sacrifices than dying!”
Tarasov gives the Colonel a baffled gaze but the big man turns his back on him to look out into the dusk again. “Go and see to your woman now. I will have my decision in time.”
The major knows the Colonel has nothing more to say. He also knows that, while the Lieutenants are standing at the door like statues, they are watching every move he makes. With nothing left to say and no action to be taken, Tarasov salutes and takes his leave. The Lieutenants let him pass and, stepping out of the Colonel’s tower, the major becomes silently preoccupied with his own concerns.
So… probably it will be me alone, maybe with a few Stalkers from the Asylum at best. I’ll leave at dawn.