Читать книгу Seven Elephants - - Страница 7

Inside, the sanatorium building was not nearly as abandoned as it appeared from the outside. Dim lamps illuminated a long corridor with several doors on both sides. The air was dry and warm, with a slight scent of antiseptic—like in a hospital. Each step echoed hollowly.

"Where are we going?" asked Anna, keeping her pistol aimed at Sokolov's back.

"To Doctor Berkut's office. Third floor, west wing," he spoke calmly, as if conducting a tour. "A surprise awaits you there."

"What kind of surprise?"

"You'll see," Sokolov smiled slightly. "The doctor has prepared everything very carefully."

They climbed a wide marble staircase to the second floor. Here the corridor split in two—right and left. Sokolov turned right, toward another staircase.

"Why are you doing this?" asked Anna, trying to keep her voice steady. "Why all of this?"

Sokolov stopped but didn't turn around.

"You wouldn't understand. No one understands until they experience it firsthand," he spoke quietly, as if sharing something intimate. "What Doctor Berkut does isn't just an experiment. It's… human evolution. A chance to become something greater. To see beyond the ordinary."

"You kidnap and torture children," cold contempt sounded in Anna's voice. "Is that evolution?"

"You're mistaken, detective. We don't cause them pain. We… liberate them. It's like taking off a heavy backpack after a long day. Only the backpack is the limitations of one's own personality."

He moved forward again, continuing to speak:

"Doctor Berkut has found a way to go beyond individual consciousness. To touch something… greater. You can't even imagine what opens up there, beyond the boundary."

Anna caught strange notes in his voice—a mixture of religious ecstasy and fanaticism. It seemed Berkut was truly not just a leader to them, but something of a guru.

They climbed to the third floor. It was noticeably brighter here—modern lighting fixtures, fresh paint on the walls. Nothing resembled an abandoned sanatorium. Sokolov stopped in front of large double doors at the end of the corridor.

"The doctor is waiting for you inside," he stepped aside. "Alone."

"That's not happening," Anna gripped her pistol tighter. "Open it."

Sokolov shrugged and pushed the door. Behind it was a spacious office with panoramic windows overlooking the forest. Modern furniture, elegant design, paintings on the walls. And books—hundreds of books on shelves from floor to ceiling. Alexander Viktorovich Berkut sat behind a massive dark wood desk.

"Anna Vitalyevna," he smiled, rising to meet her. "I'm glad you accepted my invitation."

"Where is Sophia Velichko?" Anna aimed her pistol at him, not wasting time on pleasantries.

"Safe, I assure you," Berkut gestured for her to sit in the chair opposite his desk. "Why don't we talk first? There's so much I'd like to tell you."

"I'm not going to play your games," Anna remained standing in place. "Where is the girl?"

Dorokhov, who had quietly entered the office behind Anna, kept Sokolov at gunpoint.

"Maybe we should search the building?" he suggested. "The team is ready."

Berkut sighed with theatrical disappointment.

"How banal. I expected more understanding from you, Anna Vitalyevna. But if you insist…" he pressed a button on his desk. "Igor, escort Detective Sviridova to the laboratory. Show her our guest."

"Dorokhov, stay here," Anna ordered. "Don't take your eyes off him. And call for backup."

She followed Sokolov, who led her down the corridor to an elevator at the end of the wing. The metal doors slid open with a soft hiss. Inside were only two buttons: up and down. Sokolov pressed "down."

"How many levels are underground?" Anna asked, not expecting an answer.

"Three," Sokolov unexpectedly replied. "The doctor repurposed the old bomb shelters. The result is… impressive."

The elevator seemed to descend forever. Finally, the doors opened, and Anna saw a long, brightly lit corridor. Sterile cleanliness, white walls, closed doors with small windows. Like a hospital. Or a prison.

"What is this place?"

"The transformation laboratory," Sokolov moved forward. "The most important work happens here. Here, personalities… are restructured. They take on a new form."

He stopped at one of the doors and looked through the small window.

"Look. Your Sophia."

Anna pushed him aside and peered through the glass. Inside was a small room with white walls. On a hospital-like bed lay Sophia. Her eyes were closed, and on her head was a strange device with numerous wires, resembling a helmet. Next to the bed stood medical equipment: monitors, IVs, some devices Anna had never seen before.

"What have you done to her?" Anna grabbed Sokolov by the collar, pinning him against the wall. "Open the door! Immediately!"

"She's just sleeping," he replied calmly. "The drug works gently. No pain, no violence. Only… transformation."

"Open this damn door!"

Sokolov took a key card from his pocket and swiped it through the reader. The lock clicked, the door opened slightly. Anna pushed Sokolov away and burst into the room.

Sophia lay motionless, but her chest rose and fell evenly—she was breathing. Anna checked her pulse—steady, strong. There was an injection mark on the girl's arm.

"Sophia? Sophia, can you hear me?" Anna gently shook the girl's shoulder.

No response. Her eyes moved rapidly under closed lids, as if dreaming. Her lips moved silently.

"What did you inject her with?" Anna turned to Sokolov, who stood in the doorway, watching with curiosity.

"The 'Key.' That's what Doctor Berkut calls his invention. A drug that opens the doors of perception. Makes consciousness… pliable. Ready for changes."

"What are the side effects?"

"Nothing dangerous. Dizziness, weakness, sometimes hallucinations," Sokolov shrugged. "Sophia is just dreaming. Special dreams, in which her consciousness is restructured, taking on a new form."

Anna began disconnecting the sensors from the girl's head. Carefully removed the strange helmet. A mesh of electrodes remained on Sophia's head, thin wires entangling her skin.

"What's the antidote? What neutralizes the drug's effect?"

"Time," Sokolov smiled. "Just time. In a few hours, she'll wake up. New. Renewed."

"You're monsters," Anna checked the girl's pupils. They responded to light—a good sign.

"No, we're visionaries. Pioneers. Those who see the future of human consciousness."

Anna pulled out her radio.

"Dorokhov? I've found Sophia. Basement level, west wing. She's unconscious but alive. We need a medical team and…"

A sharp pain in the back of her head interrupted her sentence. The world momentarily darkened. When her vision returned, Anna found herself on the floor. The radio had flown aside. Sokolov stood over her, holding a metal tray—evidently what he had hit her with.

"Sorry, detective, but Doctor Berkut insisted that you also become part of the experiment," Sokolov put the tray on the nightstand and leaned toward her. "Don't worry, it doesn't hurt. Quite the opposite."

Anna tried to reach for her gun, but her body wasn't responding well. Her vision was doubled. Sokolov easily intercepted her hand and took her weapon.

"Why…" she managed with difficulty. "Why do you need this?"

"The doctor believes you're an ideal candidate for the next phase of the experiment. Strong personality, sharp mind, unshakable will," he helped her up and sat her on a chair next to Sophia's bed. "People like you are rare. And experiments need… quality samples."

The sounds of gunshots and shouts came from the corridor. Sokolov turned toward the door, then back to Anna. His face reflected doubt.

"Stay here," he closed the door and turned the key in the lock.

Anna tried to stand, but the room spun before her eyes. Concussion? Seemed like it. She focused on her breathing, trying to clear her mind. The radio lay several meters away from her. If she could reach it…

At that moment, Sophia moaned and opened her eyes. A foggy, unfocused gaze slid across the room and stopped on Anna.

"You… came," the girl's voice was weak, barely audible. "Katya said you would come…"

"Katya?" Anna leaned closer. "Which Katya?"

"Katya Voronova," Sophia spoke slowly, as if choosing her words. "She's here… with us. Has been for a long time. Waiting."

The sounds of fighting in the corridor grew louder. Someone shouted commands, footsteps could be heard. It seemed the raid had begun.

"Sophia, can you stand? We need to leave."

The girl tried to rise but unsuccessfully. Her body wouldn't obey her, like a puppet with cut strings.

"Can't… Too tired…"

"It's okay, I'll help you," Anna gathered all her strength and rose from the chair. The room was still spinning, but not as badly. "We'll get out of here."

She helped Sophia sit up by supporting her under the arms. At that moment, someone began pounding on the door.

"Anna! Are you in there? Answer!" Dorokhov's voice sounded muffled but recognizable.

"Here!" she shouted. "The door is locked!"

"Get back! I'm going to break it down!"

Anna dragged Sophia to the far corner of the room, shielding her with her body. A few seconds later, a shot rang out, the lock shattered to pieces, and the door flew open. Dorokhov stood on the threshold, with two special forces officers behind him.

"Are you all right?" he quickly surveyed the room, making sure there was no danger.

"Yes. Sokolov hit me, but nothing serious," Anna nodded toward Sophia. "But she needs urgent medical attention. They gave her some kind of drugs."

"Medics are on their way," Dorokhov helped lift the girl. "We've taken control of the upper floors. Berkut tried to escape, but we detained him. But Sokolov appears to have slipped away. Escaped through some emergency exit."

"He won't get far," Anna carefully guided Sophia toward the door. "Put out an APB on him. And check this entire basement. Who knows how many more 'patients' are being held here."

In the corridor, forensic specialists were already bustling about, photographing and describing every detail. Police officers opened the doors of other rooms—most of them turned out to be empty.

"It seems Sophia was the only one… at the moment," Dorokhov supported the girl from the other side. "But judging by the equipment, there have been many 'guests' here."

When they reached the first floor, a medical team was already waiting with a stretcher. Sophia was carefully laid down and connected to an IV.

"Condition is stable," reported one of the doctors after a quick examination. "But we need to get her to a hospital urgently. We don't know what they gave her."

"I'll go with her," Anna turned to Dorokhov. "You make sure everything here is checked down to the last cabinet. And contact Elena Andreevna. Tell her we've found Sophia, she's alive, we're taking her to the hospital."

"Got it," Dorokhov nodded. "What about Berkut?"

"Let him sit in a cell for now. I'll interrogate him later, when I'm sure Sophia is okay. And find me all the information about his 'Key'—what kind of drug it is, how it works, what the consequences might be."

In the ambulance, Anna took Sophia's hand. The girl looked fragile and pale under the bright lights, but her breathing was even, and her pulse was stable.

"Everything will be all right," Anna said quietly, not knowing if Sophia could hear her. "I promise. We'll figure it all out."

Sophia suddenly squeezed her hand tighter and opened her eyes slightly.

"They'll come for us," she whispered. "The collectors. For me… and for you. Now you're also part of the collection…"

Her eyes closed again, her hand went limp. The doctor adjusted the IV and nodded reassuringly to Anna:

"Don't worry, this is normal. Patients in this condition often speak incoherently. A side effect of sedative drugs."

But Anna knew that Sophia's words weren't incoherent. They were a warning. And Anna intended to take it very seriously.

The ambulance sped through the night city, cutting through the darkness with flashing lights. The rain had finally stopped, and rare stars were visible in the sky. The first round had been won—Sophia was rescued, Berkut arrested. But Anna's intuition told her this was only the beginning. That the secrets hidden within the walls of the old sanatorium were much deeper and more terrifying than they appeared at first glance.

And that Sophia's words about the "collectors" would echo many more times in this tangled case.

Chapter 11: Reflections

The hospital room was immersed in whiteness. White walls, white bedding, white light from the window covered with thin curtains. In this sterile space, Sophia seemed even more fragile than usual. Her pale face almost blended with the pillow, thin arms lying limply on top of the blanket.

Elena Andreevna sat beside her daughter's bed, not taking her eyes off her, as if afraid that if she looked away even for a second, Sophia would disappear again. Dark circles under her eyes, a haggard face—the past two weeks had left a deep mark on her.

Anna quietly entered the room. She, too, showed signs of exhaustion—in her face, movements, and eyes.

"How is she?" asked Anna, coming closer.

"Sleeping," Elena Andreevna spoke in a whisper, afraid to wake her daughter. "The doctors say it's normal. Her body is recovering."

Anna nodded, sitting down on a chair on the other side of the bed.

"What are they saying about the drug they gave her?"

"They still haven't been able to determine its exact composition," Elena Andreevna rubbed her temples. "Some unknown formula. A mixture of neuroleptics, psychotropic substances, and something else they can't identify. But they say there's no serious brain damage. That's already good."

"Has she woken up?"

"Yes, several times. But not for long. She says strange things…" Elena Andreevna's voice faltered. "She talks about a girl named Katya. Says she helped her there, in the sanatorium. Warned her, explained things. But Katya Voronova died twenty years ago!"

Anna silently observed the sleeping Sophia. A slight trembling of eyelashes, the barely noticeable movement of eyes beneath the lids—what was she dreaming about now? What images were being created by a consciousness that had been in Berkut's hands?

"It's because of the drug," Anna finally said. "Hallucinations, altered perception. It should all gradually pass."

"And if it doesn't?" fear flashed in Elena Andreevna's eyes. "If he did something to her mind that can't be fixed?"

"We'll do everything possible," Anna replied firmly. "We have Berkut. He will answer for what he did. And he'll tell us how to help Sophia."

Elena Andreevna suddenly covered her face with her hands, and her shoulders shook with suppressed sobs.

"It's my fault," she whispered. "I let them into our lives. First Berkut, then Viktor…"

"You didn't know. You couldn't have known," Anna placed a hand on her shoulder. "They manipulated you professionally. Used drugs to make you suggestible, trusting."

"But I should have protected her…"

The conversation was interrupted by a slight movement on the bed. Sophia opened her eyes—clear, conscious, not as cloudy as before.

"Mom?" her voice was weak, but recognizable. "Anna Vitalyevna?"

"I'm here, sweetheart," Elena Andreevna took her daughter's hand. "How do you feel?"

"Tired," Sophia tried to smile. "And my head feels heavy. As if… there's something extra in there."

"You need to rest," Elena Andreevna stroked her daughter's hair. "Build up your strength."

Sophia shifted her gaze to Anna.

"Did you catch him? Doctor Berkut?"

"Yes," Anna nodded. "He's been arrested. And he'll answer for everything he did."

"And Igor? The physical education teacher?"

"He escaped. But we'll find him, don't worry."

Sophia closed her eyes, as if gathering her thoughts. Then she looked at Anna again.

"They're not alone. There are many of them. Collectors. And they'll come for me… for us."

"Who are the collectors, Sophia?" Anna leaned forward, but caught Elena Andreevna's warning glance—don't tire her. "You can tell me later, when you've rested."

"No, I have to now," the girl's voice became insistent. "While I remember. While everything is clear."