Otkroveniye Complex // Book 1 of the Takaryev Series

Chapter 62

Artem took the oath, heart pounding and stomach churning with every word. 

Then they sat him down for a polygraph test. It was nerve-racking, tedious, and slightly terrifying for Artem, and it lasted three hours, as well. 

Thankfully, though, they cleared him. Everett walked him into the Department's control center. Artem got a look at the room. It was huge, with computers lining the walls. The front wall was taken up by a chalkboard, a dry erase board, and a huge screen. 

Probably to project things onto, Artem thought. I don't see a projector, so probably runs off of Bluetooth or maybe Chromecast? Are those systems down, too? 

"Hey!" Everett barked. 

That was all it took to silence the crowd of scrambling security and IT workers. They slowed to a halt, all eyes landing on Everett and Artem. 

"This is Artem Takaryev." Everett explained. "He's here to help, and has been specially recruited by the FBI. I expect you to treat him as you would treat a fellow agent. Get him onto a computer and let him dig around, see if he can find anything."

Artem detected an air of skepticism. He waved at them. "Hello."

He watched as the agents stiffened- probably startled by his Russian accent. 

"Alright, back to work!" Everett ordered. "And I don't want to hear anyone giving Mr. Takaryev a hard time. He's a valuable asset." 

Artem strolled over to the dry erase board he had noted earlier. 

"Hey, can I get a minute?" he asked. "Just want to brief you all on what I know." 

The agents kept quiet, their eyes following him across the room. Most of them still seemed to be a little suspicious of him. 

"I lived in Russia nearly my whole life, so I know what their bag of tricks looks like." Artem explained. "I believe it's logical to say that Russia, or someone working for Russia, could have orchestrated this attack. May I ask some questions?" 

"Sure," said one of the IT workers. 

"What language was the attack's code written in?" Artem queried. 

"English." came the reply. 

"Were you able to find and trace an IP address?" 

"Yes," said an agent. 

"Alright, then I need a computer. Are there any open desks, or can I borrow someone's for a second?"

A few agents glanced around the room until they spotted an open cubicle. They pointed it out to Artem. 

Artem took a step towards the crowd of people. "Can we please split the Red Sea here for a sec?" 

He walked into the crowd. Most people gladly moved out of his way. He sat down at an empty computer, and one of the agents gave him the IP address that had been traced. Artem tracked it again, got a set of coordinates, then acquired satellite imagery of the coordinates. 

He gaped. 

There was nothing there. Just a field of grass. No buildings, nothing. 

Is that the blacksite where they put Ravil?