After my assignment to Greenland, I was given some more mundane tasks. Nothing that would make any waves here. This period lasted a good 14 months, and whilst it was refreshing to take on an easy going operation, I yearned for something more. Something to get the adrenalin pumping once again.
One day in mid December, I was summoned to attend a meeting with my commanding officer. A tingle of excitement rushed through me. I was eager to discover what this was about, knowing full well that I'd not performed badly or made any urgent errors during my time back from Greenland.
On my way there, I fantasized over what it could be and where I would end up journeying too. Little did I know what was in store for me that fateful Monday morning.
For the purpose of this story, I will once again change names to protect identities.
The base I was working on, had a large building for officials. I'd seen VIP's entering earlier on, being rushed inside. I took a passing notice but continued with my duties.
Anyway, I digress. I was summoned for this meeting, with no clue as to what I was there for. Sat outside in a hallway with no one else. Unusual, as previous assignments were teams of 3 or more. Was I to go all lone wolf? That would be a personal first for me. I've heard stories about one gentleman in particular who has become a part of the myths and legends. So deep undercover, that only rumours abound surrounding his existence. The military and the government deny any and all knowledge of him. Me? I've heard certain rumours, with the passer of said knowledge insisting it's not only true, but that they have met him personally. But this is a story for another time.
As I awaited the meeting, I realised I had been sat there nearly 45 minutes. Nerves had begun to creep in, and I was a little more concerned than I had hoped. My palms felt sweaty and my face flushed. Then the door was opened calmly. I was called in to what I can describe as an operations centre, with rows of terminals operated by people I'd never knew existed, a huge table with a digital map display, and several important looking men stood around it, with looks of concern on their faces.
Was that a Russian military uniform? Why was he here?
A British General approached and we saluted each other.
"Good morning Carl, I'm General Andrews, glad that you could be here this morning." He had an upbeat demeanour, which masked what he was about to tell me.
We walked over to the table to introduce me to the Russian officer. "Carl, this is General Vladimir Pavlychenko. Russian Defense division. What he has to brief you on today, has been classified by the Russian military for quite some time." I saluted and shook hands with Vlad. A giant beast of a man, with hands the size of shovels. A thick moustache he covered his top lip, and a buzz cut hairstyle finished off this broad man who looked like he wrestled bears for fun.
"Ah, Andrews has told me much about you Carl. Just the man for the job." His thick Russian accent was as strong as he was. I don't know about anyone else, but I actually like the Russian accent. Their language is difficult to read though.
I wondered what General Andrews had shared with him, but decided not to push further. After all, I was always happy to let my reputation speak for itself. Didn't want to inflate my ego.
"Tell me Carl, have you ever heard of Dyatlov Pass and the incident surrounding it?" His question came over curious, and that final word smoothers with an upward inflection.
"I'm sorry sir, but I don't believe I have."
"Not to worry, for you shall soon know all we can share with you. Bring it up on map please."
The lights above the table were dimmed and the digital map which was currently being displayed, slowly zoomed in on Russia. Specifically the Ural Mountains. When the map had finally zoomed in, Vladimir pointed towards the Ural's and spoke again.
"Here. This is where Dyatlov Pass is located. It has been closed off to general public after an incident back in 1959. There was a group of ten people who were staying at the remote village of Vizhai, before beginning there trek through the Ural's. They were accomplished at trekking and were by no means inexperienced." His words encapsulated me.
I had never heard of this place before. But if it happened in 1959, why was it being investigated again now?
"So what happened to these people? Avalanche?" I poked for answers completely in the dark to the grim reality.
"No. They were not so lucky to be taken from this world in that way. Despite protests from locals in the Vizhai village, they begun their expedition and were never heard from again." A sombre atmosphere filled the space around the map display.
He went on to explain that after not seeing the trekkers, that the village called authorities to investigate their disappearance. Naturally, given that the Ural Mountains are covered in a thick blanket of snow, it took some time before an expedition was sent out and search for them. But what they discovered was deemed to horrific to share with the general public, and it was brushed under the rug.
The camp site was finally found, and the horrors which had lead to the deaths of all 10 party members were gruesome and shocking. The tent found had been ripped to shreds by an unknown force,, people had bones crushed with no signs of bruising to their bodies. Tongues, eyeballs and other body parts removed with little to no blood stains, and one body was recovered from up a small tree. Various other details were shared with me about what they knew had transpired in their final moments alive. As it turns out, very little information has been found to verify anything that could have done this. Conspiracy theorists have claimed all sorts apparently. But no concrete evidence has been able to support their claims.
"So where do I come in to all this?"
"We fear that it has happened all over again. A group of hikers were spotted passing by Vizhai village heading towards the Ural Mountains, no doubt going to Dyatlov Pass."
"When did this take place?"
"Approximately 10 days ago. Given its remote location, it took some time before we were made aware." His face was masked in a serious but deathly afraid expression. "A group of 5 people. Three men and two women. Two are Russian, and the remaining we believe to be British. Not much Intel available."
"I have to ask, why have I been assigned to this? Surely you have people who could undertake this? Not that I have an issue of course."
"Even the mention of the name Dyatlov scares our people. It is viewed cursed. Also, I have it on good authority that the bizarre and unusual circumstances are your area of expertise." His smile let on he knew about my previous excursions. Who could argue though? I have had some interesting and strange missions given to me.
The next hour was spent discussing all the usual information regarding the mission. I was to be sent alone to meet with a Russian counterpart of the mission. A man by the name of Andrei. We were to investigate as a duo to allow for fewer casualties. Another freezing climate wasn't welcome, but the chance to discover a different part of the world was. I was to leave tomorrow.
The journey to Moscow, and then to Vizhai were uneventful, but the scenic views in Russia are something else.
Once we had arrived in Vizhai, a small stone one storey building sat alone on the end of the road. It looked about to collapse under the weight of the snow blanketing it.
The driver made a speedy retreat after I left the vehicle. He wouldn't speak of the surrounding area when I brought it up in conversation. Guess it is cursed to mention it.
I knocked loudly on the old and frail door, expecting it to fall apart. Some footsteps came from inside an the door swung open. A man of similar stature to myself stood there in an imposing way. That deadeye stare was meant to intimidate me, but failed. "Yes?"
"Andrei? I'm Carl."
He looked me up and down." Come in. We have much to discuss."
A small fire burned away keeping some warmth in this dilapidated structure barely for enough for habitation. A small oil burning lamp on the table gave precious light. Hardly the Ritz but we wouldn't be here long.
"So, you know why you're here?" Andrei asked in a thick drawl.
"Yeah, we go to Dyatlov and conduct a search and rescue."
"That's the plan. But it is cursed. No one brave enough but me. Them stupid fucks will already be dead anyway, so we recover the bodies, come back and party with my friends."
He didn't seem phased one iota about the missing hikers being dead, or finding their bodies. He just wants to party with friends. I knew 18 year old me would be down for some copious amounts of booze. But Russians have a high tolerance for anything. Especially the booze. Andrei looked like he had seen some pretty nasty horrors. The vacant look on his eyes made me wonder if he had ever seen true happiness.
Later that night, the mother of all storms hit the remote village. Thankfully, the building was still intact come morning and we set off on our journey to Dyatlov Pass.
About an hour in, we were following a snow covered path uphill. I had this creepy feeling that something was not quite right. Like it had latched itself on to me, like some kind of blood sucking leech. I casually glanced around, wondering if a wild animal was stalking us to no avail. Andrei was silent, and leading the way. The crunch of the virgin snow beneath our feet was the only noise for what seemed like miles around.
We reached an old stone bridge and Andrei stopped. "Over this bridge, and we are officially in the Ural's. The curse of death that shrouds it extends to this bridge. Once over, keep your eyes open for anything unusual." His stoic demeanour gave nothing away. I wondered to myself if he knew something.
"Let's keep up the pace." I still felt uneasy, unsure if Andrei could detect it. But brushed off the feeling of dread and continued onwards.
The feeling continued as we ventured further. The only sights to be found, were random stone formations jutting out of cliff faces and the ground, and snow covered trees. It was one of the most barren places I have ever known or seen firsthand. Get lost up here and it will result in almost certain death. That I wanted to avoid.
I cast my gaze up the steep embankment to our left at the thinning of the trees. I caught a glimpse of something moving that I couldn't quite figure out its shape. Was it pure white in colour as the snow to blend in, or was it transparent? I was uncertain on that, but I swore I saw a pair of blood red eyes.
"Andrei, I saw something up there.' I pointed towards the area I had seen it.
He grabbed his binoculars and scanned the trees carefully and methodically. "Huh, must have imagined it my friend. Nothing there." He gave little thought to it and continued on his way. I kept looking over as we progressed. Certain I'd seen it. Then in the corner of my eye, I caught a blur moving rapidly.
"Shit, there it was again." I called out.
"Where?"
"It moved from over by them trees, to that rock formation."
He smiled at me. "Ok, ok. Tell you what. We go up and investigate, then see if you really did see something." I sensed he didn't believe me, but I was grateful he was willing to check it out.
We climbed up the 50 or so feet towards the tree line. Andrei made it up first, and I followed behind by a few feet to see him rubbing his unshaven chin.
"Well comrade. I believe I owe you apology. Footprints."
Sure enough, a set of footprints left in the snow proving I had indeed seen something moving up here.
"Let's head back to footpath and follow. If we see anything else, we investigate." Andrei gave a curious look in the direction of the footprints before heading back down.
I followed him, but couldn't shake that feeling of being watched.
I have officially achieved Fangirl status following you over here, Carl.
I could have thrown the ring into the fires of Mordor easier than making this damn account.
The trials we suffer... but yours are more entertaining. Thanks for the invite!
Now, where's part 2??