Callsign: Queen (Zelda Baker) (Chess Team, #2)

“We’ve found something at Manifold Alpha.” Hidden in the White Mountain region of New Hampshire, Manifold Alpha had once been a Manifold Genetics facility and would soon serve as the base of operations for the new and clandestine Chess Team. “More accurately, we’ve managed to decrypt one of the many memos we harvested from their network. It doesn’t go into detail, but it references a project in Pripyat.”


“Shit. Are you trying to turn me into a glo-stick?” Queen stood and retrieved her bag from the overhead compartment and strode down the aisle, ignoring the resentful stares from passengers who had doubtless believed they had landed due to some sort of mechanical failure.

“People visit there all the time. At least they did until recently. About a year ago, the government shut down all tours into Pripyat, and stopped issuing permits for individual visits. That’s the only other clue we have that something is not right there.”

Queen nodded to the flight attendant who offered only a blank stare in return, and winked at the pilot, an awkward-looking man of middle years with a protuberant nose and Adam’s apple to match. He’d been ogling her all the way down the aisle, and his face split into a yellow-toothed grin as she acknowledged him. She wondered how he would react if he could see the angry red skull that was branded in her forehead, a gift from General Trung, formally of the VPLA—Vietnam’s elite “Death Volunteers”, and now covered by a layer of makeup and a blue bandana as a concession to her need to keep a low profile.

“I need to emphasize to you that this is a fact-finding mission. My connections in that part of the world are limited right now, and relations with Russia are tenuous at best. Not to mention, we don’t know the extent of Manifold’s influence there, though we would be foolish not to assume it is strong and widespread. Exercise caution.”

“Understood.”

“I’m serious. I can’t send a Blackhawk to the outskirts of Kiev to rescue you without creating an international incident. Find out what’s going on, if anything, and report back to me once you’ve gotten away safely. If Manifold is up to something in Pripyat, I’ll decide how to proceed from there. Don’t make yourself known, and don’t engage. You are to be just another shadow in the night.”

“Hooah,” she said, with more force than conviction, and ended the call.





Chapter 3


Queen shouldered her pack, felt at her hip for the reassuring presence of the Heckler and Koch Mark 23, though the civilian weapon was a poor substitute for her own MK 23, and slipped out of the shadows. It was well past nightfall, and no one was about. She had spent the past few hours in hiding, reading up on her destination and observing the comings and goings of disinterested local police. One pass every thirty minutes, and scarcely a glance spared for anything but the road. They were simply going through the motions.

Set atop a white pedestal shaped like an inverted triangle, block letters spelled out the name “Pripyat.” Queen grimaced as she trotted past the closest thing this dead city had to a gravestone. Seen on what seemed like every website devoted to Pripyat, it had become an icon of this dead city.

Founded in 1970, the once-thriving city had been built as a home for workers at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant. In its heyday, the Soviets had pointed to Pripyat as a model for the modern city, constructed according to a careful plan featuring shopping and cultural centers, modern recreation facilities, a state-of-the-art hospital and schools serving each residential area. The city had flourished for more than a decade, but it all came to an end in 1986 with the meltdown of the Chernobyl nuclear reactor. An evacuation had been hastily arranged, and citizens removed from the city thirty-six hours later, with no idea of the extent of the disaster. Most had believed they would be returning soon, and had left virtually all of their belongings behind. The city remained closed, a living time capsule memorializing the disaster. Looters and vandals had since stripped Pripyat of anything of value, but reminders lay everywhere of the people that had once called this place home.

Queen broke through a tree line surrounding the city and paused, scanning the spectral skyline, black against the moonlit sky. Abandoned buildings, now only dark husks, stood arrayed like black sentinels, keeping their silent watch. Any one of them could take an hour to search—time she did not have. One woman, one night and an entire city to cover with no clues to guide her in the right direction.

She wished the rest of Chess Team were here with her. They would scour this place in a flash and be back in time for breakfast. Thoughts of Chess Team though, led to thoughts of Rook, and that was not a road she should let her mind travel when she had a job to do.