Marsiana 2-15
CHAPTER 15
A military cargo plane was flying over the Atlantic Ocean. On board were only members of the crew and a group of Special Forces under the command of Major Menshov. He considered that the five people will be quite enough to successfully fulfill the task of General Commissarov. They flew at night away from the passenger airlines. Beside to major sat and looked into his tablet sergeant Matveyev. With corner of his eye, major noticed that the sergeant rewritten with someone in the social networks. ‘Sergeant violates the order,’ major Menshov said. Matveyev nodded, put the tablet in the pocket. ‘Sorry, comrade major. I think there is still no one. We fly over the ocean.’ ‘Maybe not, but maybe there is,’ major Menshov looked out the window. At the bottom it was dark. Above the stars were shone brightly. “Beautiful,” he thought. “As if no one there in the world.” ‘Comrade, major,’ interrupted his thoughts sergeant Matveyev, who apologetically for violation of the order and tried to entertain his commander with conversations. ‘What do you want, sergeant?’ ‘You think the Americans have got us?’ sergeant asked. Menshov shrugged. ‘Should not.’ ‘It would be good,’ Matveyev agreed with the commander. ‘I don’t want to fight against them, at least on their territory.’ ‘Scared?’ ‘Of course not. If they find us we cannot fulfill our task. And I'm ready to fight any time with them. We the Slavs are the owners of the whole world!’ Matveyev said proudly. ‘Yeah,’ chimed his friend who was sitting in sitting next to sergeant. ‘Only Americans on this case have a different opinion.’ ‘This is because we have not cleared our relationship with them. I mean who is who. Because we hadn’t a real war with them yet,’ sergeant Matveyev confidently said. ‘Now, if there was a war, and we won it, then everyone would see who the most important and powerful.’ ‘I see,’ agreed his friend. ‘If the mushrooms grow under the nose, then one would not have to walk to forest!’ The commandos, including major Menshov smiled. In the window on the right appeared some glow. Fun on board immediately disappeared. Major Menshov looked at sergeant Matveyev. He nodded and jumped to the window. For a moment he stared into the darkness, and then exclaimed: ‘Comrade major next to us someone is flying!’ ‘What do you mean someone?’ Menshov frowned. ‘Plane?’ ‘Well, its looks like not a plane,’ Matveyev answered, trying to understand what he is seeing. Parallel course was flying some glowing with amber light the triangular object. To it there was no more than a hundred meters. ‘It looks like a UFO, comrade major,’ sergeant Matveyev said, not looking up from the window. Fighters as one rushed to the porthole. It could not resist also major Menshov. Seen spectacle struck him to the core. Nothing like that in his life he has not seen. Sergeant Matveyev was not mistaken. Near the plane, some distance away really was flying the unidentified object. ‘Maybe its American’s Drone?’ one of the fighters suggested. ‘No, it does not seem,’ the other said. ‘How can you know? Maybe it’s a new secret model.’ ‘If so, yes. But still, it is looks strange.’ Major Menshov radioed to the crew commander. ‘Commander, do you see who is flying by the parallel course with you?’ he asked. ‘Yes, I see, comrade major. We have been observed it for more than a minute.’ ‘Who is it? You do not know?’ ‘He doesn’t answer at our requests,’ the commander of the crew of a cargo plane said. ‘I understand. What are you going to do?’ ‘But what we can? We will continue to follow our course,’ the crew commander, Captain Andreev said. ‘I understand,’ Major Menshov repeated, and felt, as in his soul creeps the bad feeling. “No it does not a drone,” he thought. “Then what or who? I wish I knew it!” The unknown object began to approach. The pilot wanted to take his plane away but he couldn’t do it. Object relentlessly followed the next to the aircraft. The distance between them rapidly decreased. Major Menshov became clear that now something will happen. Glowing triangle silently approached close to the aircraft and if rooted to it. ‘All prepare weapons!’ Menshov shouted. ‘This is a highjack!’ Fighters as one with a speed of lightning spread out around the cabin of the aircraft were ready to repel a possible attack. For a moment nothing happened, then in the aircraft body formed an opening sufficient for a person to be entered in it. ‘Attention all!’ Menshov ordered, clutching in his hands a short assault gun. Shoot inside the plane was a suicide, but nothing else he could think of. What happened next made on major Menshov a shock impression. In the doorway appeared not terrorists, or even ugly aliens but a man. And not just any man but one of them. It was the FSB officer major Kirill Stakhov. His appearance was so unexpected and inexplicable, that the major Menshov momentarily lowered his arms and rubbed his eyes with his fist. ‘I can’t believe my eye!’ he exclaimed. ‘Stakhov it’s you or what?’ ‘It’s me Menshov, me,’ major Stakhov said, looking at petrified by his sudden appearance the fighters. ‘But how? How did you do that?’ Menshov did not understand how Stakhov could get on board the plane, but he knew that there was something not clear. Again he tightened his weapon and pointed it to his friend’s chest: “Maybe the terrorists captured him?” like a lightning flashed in his mind. He ordered his fighters with a sigh to prepare to repel a possible attack. But from behind Stakhov’s back no one came out. Still holding him at gunpoint, Menshov decided to try to find out what it all means. ‘What is that thing on which you have caught us up?’ he asked. ‘And where did you get it? You alone or is there someone else there?’ ‘Now one,’ Stakhov simply replied. ‘I have a business proposal to you,’ he said suddenly. ‘Proposal? What kind of proposal?’ Menshov exchanged glances with sergeant Matveyev. He shrugged and grimaced. ‘Well, come on, tell me why you came here,’ Menshov got ready to listen to his former comrade. He was beginning to doubt that in front of him really alive Stakhov. ‘You have to interrupt a task and go back to the base,’ Stakhov said. ‘Go back?’ Menshov’s eyebrows widened. ‘Yes. Immediately.’ ‘You order us or what?’ ‘I recommend.’ ‘But what if we refuse?’ ‘Better listen to me and go back. You cannot manage with Marsiana. Nobody can.’ Major Menshov started, looked curiously at Stakhov. ‘Really? Do you know about the girl?’ ‘Yes, I know. You better not touch her. You still will not be able to steal her.’ ‘Why do you so sure about it?’ Menshov felt that his irritation beginning to embrace. ‘You can take my word for it,’ Stakhov went on to say. ‘Propose immediately stop the mission and until it’s it is not too late go back.’ ‘You have any idea what awaits us if we arbitrarily interrupt the mission and get back to the base?’ ‘I understand. But you’ll all stay alive.’ On the back of major Menshov ran chill. ‘Do you threaten us?’ ‘Not at all. I'll want you know it.’ Suddenly major Menshov saw that the left leg of Stakhov at the bottom as if was tied by some thin, black rope or it was not the rope but something else. To say for sure was it in fact he did not undertake. But it presence concerned him. It turned out that the invisible terrorists kept Stakhov on a leash? They were afraid that he runs across to him on the plane or what? “Nonsense!” he argued mentally to himself. The rope meantime in some places got brightened, but Stakhov face twitched as if in pain. ‘I have little time,’ he said. ‘I suggest all of you to follow me but the plane let in the opposite course.’ ‘Are you take us as the prisoners, or in what way we have to understand it all?’ Menshov surprised. ‘You can understand it as you like. I want to save you.’ Menshov made the inconspicuous sign to Matveyev. The sergeant nodded. ‘I'll go,’ he said loudly, throwing under his feet his AK. His friends were shocked. ‘Matveyev what are you doing?’ someone shouted. Matveyev waved his hand, and began to cautiously approach to major Stakhov. Menshov was looking forward to what will happen next. As he expected in his heart, the sergeant could not neutralize Stakhov. The body of the aircraft suddenly began to heat up. It was unbearably hot. This was followed by a blinding flash of white light, a deafening explosion and the plane broke into pieces. With horror and despair major Menshov suddenly realized that he was in the air for a ten kilometers high. For some reason, he did not die in the explosion. Ventilated by streams of the air Menshov began to fall down. It seemed to him that from the fear he would go mad. What happened to his comrades, he did not know. Most likely they died during a sudden explosion. On the left there was a yellow glow. Another moment and he saw under himself glowing with the yellow light the triangular object. Menshov got the hope of salvation. If the object doesn’t fly away and he’ll fall directly on it, he might somehow be saved. The crew of the unknown objects as if reading the thoughts of major and held the unit directly below him. Having flown in freefall fifty meters, Menshov fell directly on top of the aircraft and literally clung with his nails and teeth to it in the hope to keep from falling off himself. This was not necessary. The frame of the unit was slightly denser than water, and Menshov slowly plunged into the yellow, thick glow. Then the movement stopped, and he found himself in someone else's machine. He was saved. But where and in whose hands he was now major Menshov did not know. He rolled onto his back and saw that some creature was looking at him. Remotely it looked like a man, but only vaguely. Menshov did not know how to behave with a stranger, nodded, and tried to get up. Some invisible force held him down, and he lay there as if glued into the yellow, dense substance. “Well, okay. So what. But alive, I stayed,” he thought, closing his eyes. “Relax a little bit, and then think of something to get out of it.” Being in the meantime left Menshov alone and merged with a luminous body of his aircraft. Menshov did not know and could not know that on the Earth, he will never come back again. The mysterious object headed for Uranus.
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