The Unknown: Part Six

Somewhere in the future, in present day England. There are two men there, men that neither Trevor or Marin are aware of. One of them is the perpetrator, the other...

Dominik Maklakov sat in a chair, dazed and a bit shaken. How did I get here so fast? He wondered. He’d known the ukrajinština had the capability of some pretty amazing stuff, but nothing like this. He hadn't realized he could transport him that fast back into the man's own time period.

Why me? It was the question he’d asked himself ever since he’d first been brought from the Kirsk front. It was what he’d thought when he’d been sent to Maine to stop a girl from being killed. And now he speculated on the matter again, why me? Of all the people in the world, why did the ukrajinština pick him? What was so special about him that he’d been chosen out of millions of people, in this present time and from all other time periods?

He didn’t know. The green eyed, light blond haired man hadn’t offered an explanation for that yet. All he’d told him was that Dominik was perfect for the job.

“No one else could do it better than you, Dominik,” he’d said, his eyes dancing with excitement as he worked on some bizarre machine. “You’re the man for the job. You want to help the Komunistychna prychynoyu, don’t you? This is the way to do it! Imagine what the Party could do with a man like you on their side, someone who has access to all of history at all times, who knows what’s going to happen before it happens.”

“Great,” he’d said with a nod. “That works for me. So are you going to give me a book or something to bring back?” Dominik had just assumed that the man was also a part of the červená strana, the Red Party. After all, if he wanted to help the Communist cause, wouldn’t that be a good reason to bring Dominik to the future?

The man had laughed at this. “No, first you have to do a couple things for me. Then perhaps I’ll give you a history book to bring to your Russian comrades.” He’d then glanced at Dominik. “By the way, you’re Russian. Why do you speak Czech?”

He’d stated the former like a fact. Obviously he knew more about Dominik than Dominik knew about him. “I was born in Russia,” Dominik had shrugged, “But I was raised in Czechoslovakia. I suppose it rubbed off on me, Czech comes to mind before Russian does.”

“Hmm, fascinating,” the man had muttered. “I’m curious, do you have any other siblings?”

He’d shook his head. “No. At least, I don’t think so. My mother died when I was twelve, and my father left me at an orphanage.”

That last part had stung to admit. It was not customary for men to raise children, even their own sons and daughters. Yet it still hurt like it was yesterday, knowing his father hadn't wanted him. Once his dear mother had died, Dominik’s father had hightailed it, and he’d never seen him again. He supposed that it was possible his dad remarried and had more children, but Dominik doubted he’d recognize any half siblings even if he met up with one. He had done his best to forget his father, though his strong political beliefs had their influence on his son. He wouldn't know the man if he met him again.

“Dominik!” Dominik shook his head and cleared his thoughts. Where am I again? Ah yes, he was in a chair, outside of the ukrajinština je office. It’s getting hard to keep track of where I am these days. Big surprise.

The average height man walked briskly into the room, his face beaming and his palms rubbing against each other. “How did it go, my good man? Did you save the child?”

Dominik nodded, standing up from the chair. “I did.”

“And you made sure the wild-haired man got your note?” he demanded.

“I did.”

“Excellent. Wonderful first job, Dominik. I’m impressed. Yes, you will work perfect for this.” He smiled and clapped Dominik on the back. “I must ask, what did you think of those two?”

Dominik frowned and scratched his chin. “Well, the Scotsman was interesting,” he offered.

“And?” he prodded.

“A bit brash and wild, but he seemed like a nice guy all around.”

“What about the girl?”

At this Dominik stiffened. The girl. Something about the girl had caused him to stare when he’d first seen her. He didn’t know why, but there was just something about her that he couldn’t quite finger. “I don’t know what to think of her. She was frightened  at the time, I didn’t actually talk to her. The Scotsman grabbed her and took off before those Nazi spies could get a hold of her.” He spat at the word Nazi.

“Yes yes, we both hate the Nazis,” the man waved it off. “But Eli, did she catch your attention in any such way? Was there something strange about her?”

How does he know? Dominik wondered, a bit suspicious. Then again, Dominik had given up trying to figure this crazy guy out a week ago. He didn’t even know his name, for goodness sake! “There did seem like there was something different about her,” Dominik admitted.

“But you don’t know what?”

He shook his head.

The ukrajinština looked visibly disappointed. “Well, I suppose all in good time. You’ll find out soon enough.”

He turned around and walked back into his office, gesturing Dominik to follow him. “I have a new job for you, my friend.”

Dominik followed him into the room and crossed his arms. “Is that so?” he asked.

“Yes. And it’s a good one. I have a feeling you’re help is going to be needed once more, but in a different time,” the man replied.

“Well, what about your end of the deal? You said you were going to give me some information to take back to the Party.”

At this, the man visibly grimaced. “Well, I will, but not yet. Actually where I’m sending you next will be an important part of your Communist history. You’ll be in the company of your rosiysʹki tovaryshi, your Russian comrades. But I don’t want you to change anything in history. You got that?” His green eyes narrowed and he shot Dominik a horrid look.

Dominik was a bit taken back. For the last week he’d gotten to know this man as a somewhat pleasant but passionate sort. This was the first time he’d actually gotten somewhat nasty with him. He looks just like the Colonel from my regiment, Dominik mused. “What’s so important about this one that I don’t change history?”

“Let’s just say that if you let one thing go wrong, no one will survive.”

That was a pretty good reason. “Why are you sending me to such a dangerous time if it’s that delicate? Sounds very risky,” Dominik pointed out.

The man waved carelessly at what he’d told Dominik was a computer. “Look at the graph.”

The young Russian stepped forward and glanced at the strange device. On the year 1962, the line was jumping up and down. That’s what the ukrajinština said it did when the strange Scotsman tampered with it.

“Ah, so the time traveler is at it again?”

“Some time traveler,” the man growled. “He likes to mess everything up all the time. That’s the only thing he’s got right about time. Dominik, from my calculations Trevor Trekker and his adopted daughter are going to show up right,” he pulled out a map and glanced it over, then circled a spot in the Atlantic ocean. “Here. I’m guessing the idiot forgot to set the geography setting on his time traveling machine, and that’s why they landed in the ocean. Now, I’m going to make sure you’re there to take care of him.” He then muttered under his breath, “Hopefully forever, someday.”

“So you want me to take him out?” Dominik raised an eyebrow. He’d heard that last bit. “I’m not a hired gun, I don’t kill people.”

“What do you call what you do in the war?” The blond man pointed out.

“I’m a soldier. I’m fighting to keep the Nazis out of Russia. I’m trying to stop the German onslaught. That’s different than killing civilians for no reason.”

“I didn’t say I wanted you to kill him,” he stated dryly. “I just want you to keep him out of trouble. Keep showing up in different time periods when he does, stop things from happening to them or by them. That sort of thing. Eventually I should be able to get the TTGS on the same time wave as that miserable Scotsman, and when that happens I should be able to bring you, him and the girl back here. I’ll take care of things from there, the CIA has a bone to pick with Trevor.”

Dominik blinked. “CIA?”

The ukrajinština sighed irritably. “OSS, in your time,” he said offhandedly. “Central Intelligence Agency. Basically like the NKGB in your time.”

“Ah.” Dominik nodded. “I am curious though, sir, why you don’t follow Mr. Trekker around? Why did you have to bring me from the Kirsk front-lines and have me do this job for you? Can’t you just transport yourself with your strange machine?”

“It doesn’t have that capacity yet,” he replied. “If it did, I would. Trevor’s the only one who’s got the ability to time travel, he’s figured out the formula somehow. I’ve only half made it. So I cannot transport myself or anything from this time period,” he gestured around the room, “to any other time period. But, I can transport you from the past into the future and into any other time period because I’m piggybacking on Trevor’s invention. The only reason I can send you places is because I’m using his timeline to transport objects from other timelines he’s visited to the present one he’s at. Understand?”

“No.”

He rolled his eyes. “It’s all very complicated. I don’t think I can help you there.” He tapped the map, his previous grin crossing his face. “Well, I think I can safely say Trevor and Elizaveta are in for a surprise. Just wait until they see your face again. I’ll make sure to create a background story for you so that your crew-mates can vouch that you belong with them. That way Trevor and Marin will think they’re hallucinating.”

“Crew-mates?” Dominik asked.

“Yes.” He paused, then smiled. “How do you feel about submarines?”

Come back at the end of this month for part seven.