Chapter Text
**Prologue - July 4, 1985 - 11:45 p.m. Indiana Time**
There were undisclosed rooms and passageways – and exits – in the secret Russian base nestled far below Starcourt Mall. A labyrinth known only to the most important people in the operation and only to be used for emergencies.
And this situation could certainly be considered an emergency.
Two of those very important people were currently huddled in a concealed room under the floor of the machine room. They had used a top secret passage to make it this far once the alarms started blaring. Since arriving, they couldn’t take their eyes off the security screens. The tall Russian imposter (an American, no doubt) who had sprayed bullets in the control room, scattering their colleagues, had been having a fist fight with their most deadly assassin, Grigori, practically right above them for what seemed like an eternity. It never should have lasted this long.
When it was finally finished, they couldn’t have been more surprised when their lethal Russian comrade was pulverized after being thrown into the huge machine. He had been their last hope at salvaging this desperate situation.
******
~ in Russian ~
“What just happened?” Igor asked, mouth agape. “The machine is ruined!”
Who is this man? Nikolai thought, focusing on the bloodied face of Jim Hopper on the screen, astounded at the turn of events. Then he stared at the swiveling lightning bolts extending from the damaged machine.
Igor also stared at the man on the platform, who lifted his arms as if trying to protect himself, and realized that he was trapped. Then he looked at a second screen that was focused on the woman in the control booth. She had regained consciousness and was standing at the controls. The picture was a little grainy, but she had looped something over one detonation control and had her hand was on the other. Her intention was crystal clear. This machine was going to be totally destroyed. Unsalvageable. How on earth had they accessed the keys? Those stupid kids in the ridiculous sailor outfits he had interrogated earlier must have something to do with it. He glanced up, knowing the protective ceiling of this space would save them from harm, but anyone within the machine room would be pulverized. This situation could only be described as a complete disaster.
Nikolai was coming to the same conclusion, moving his head to watch first one screen and then the other. Clearly there was some deep connection between this man and woman. “Will she sacrifice him?” he wondered out loud. A Russian woman certainly would – with barely a second thought – if it were for the greater good. But Americans were weak. Pathetic, really. If he’d known the woman at all – her strength, determination, and - most of all - the deep, unbreakable love for her children – he never would have doubted her ability to make such an impossible decision.
The tiniest grain of a thought niggled in the back of Igor’s head. How on earth were they going to explain this latest failure to the commandant in Russia. A year’s worth of work, gone in an instant. They were ruined. But what if they could save the man on the platform? Take him with them when they abandoned this facility. He must know something if he wants to close the opening into the Blackness. Does he have valuable information? Does he know about the flower headed monster? Could he be their salvation? Returning to Russia empty handed would be suicide. Nikolai was his superior, so it would be his decision.
“Should we take him with us?” Igor asked, hoping Nikolai would come to a similar conclusion. Nikolai had always proven to be levelheaded and strategic. He had already called for the escape helicopter before their harried trip to this room. All they had to do was travel down the underground tunnel that exited half a mile from the mall and fly away. “He could be of value to us – to Mother Russia,” Igor prompted, in desperation.
Unknown to Igor, Nikolai would not be returning to Russia. He had hoped to, but had already been ordered to stay in America when he called for the helicopter. He would only go as far as Chicago, and then wait until a new persona was created for him so he could slip back into Indiana. His superiors still needed a presence here to monitor the area and clandestinely manage the building of a new underground facility. With his excellent English skills he was the best option. His wishes to return home had been flatly denied. Again.
But Igor was right. It would be better to emerge from this catastrophe with at least something. Or someone. This American could be of some value. And if he wasn’t, well - then he was expendable.
He nodded at Igor, who hurriedly climbed up the metal ladder towards the trap door.
~ end Russian ~
******
Hopper stared up at Joyce behind the glass with tears in his eyes. He knew exactly what he had to do. Or more accurately – what she had to do. There was really no other option and he had quickly made peace with it. Accepted it. And he knew in his heart that Joyce was strong enough to do it. Had to do it. He nodded at her, forcing a small melancholy smile on his face, knowing that she inherently understood everything that would forever go unsaid.
Save our kids.
Take care of my girl.
It’s okay.
I love you.
He glanced at the gaping crack in the wall that led to the Upside Down. Maybe he could make it through there and eventually find a way out. A way back to the real world. He wouldn’t survive if he stayed where he was and his options were extremely limited. As soon as he saw Joyce close her eyes he knew she had made the necessary, inevitable decision, so he moved as quickly as possible down the ladder next to the platform, heading toward the gap in the wall in a desperate last ditch effort to save himself. When a trap door suddenly opened right in front of him and a man motioned for him to enter, he took all of half a second to make up his mind. Surely he could sweet talk or force his way out of there once the machine had been destroyed. He couldn’t believe his impossibly good fortune. Anything would be better than being trapped in that other dark dimension or being obliterated on this platform.
So he jumped through the opening, certain he would be reunited with Joyce in no time, and slammed the door shut as he climbed down the ladder, with only seconds to spare. When he landed on the floor he was grateful to see only two men in front of him. This would be easier than he thought.
And then they both pointed guns at him.
**Sunday, October 20, 1985 - 7:30 am Indiana time – 11:30 pm Kamchatka time**
In the two weeks since the Byers family had arrived in Evansville, things had gone remarkably well. Unbelievably easy, in fact.
For a change.
All the kids had started school the second day after arriving. Three middle schools fed into the high school, so El and Will had found it easy to blend in despite the fact that it was already October. Jonathon liked all his teachers and had already landed a part time photography job with the local paper, thanks to a glowing reference letter from Hawkins.
She hadn’t been sure if she would like living in town, with neighbors. But everyone was so friendly and helpful it was a pleasant surprise. No one thought of her as a crazy woman here. It was like having a clean slate. Bill and Gwen Kerr lived on one side and ran a small construction business out of their home. When they found out she was a single mother with three kids he had said to call anytime if she had any plumbing or electrical problems. The Parkers were on the other side. He was a lab technician and she worked in administration at the hospital. They said they would be glad to put a word in when she graduated from nursing school. It was unexpected and refreshing.
Joyce had also found a part-time job at a small, family run hardware store less than five blocks from home. The Stadler’s were a lovely couple in their late fifties who had owned the store for over thirty years. They were sweet and thoughtful and Joyce had fallen in love with them almost immediately. An added bonus was that Mrs. Stadler had a treasure trove of easy and delicious recipes that she loved to share. With Jonathon’s impending departure for college next year, Joyce was determined to finally improve her cooking skills and get the younger kids to learn too. She was only needed in the store a couple of evenings a week and Saturdays for now, but it would expand to almost full time after Thanksgiving once the busy Christmas shopping season began. When she started nursing school in January – she still sometimes couldn’t believe it was really happening – the work hours would go back to part time during the quiet winter months. It was perfect.
She had made more money than expected on the sale of her Hawkins home, and between that and the money Hopper had left she was now in the unfamiliar but wonderful position of not having to struggle to provide for her family. For once in her life she wasn’t worried about money every single day. The part time work would help make sure she didn’t have to dip too deep into the savings. She still had to be sensible, of course, but the mortgage payments were reasonable and she would have no financial worries when she started school.
The house that she and Jonathon had found was a very reasonably priced two story on a quiet street. It was ideally situated five blocks from downtown, four blocks from the high school, and two blocks from the bus terminal, making getting to campus easy if the car ever failed her. An unfinished basement housed the laundry and had plenty of room for storage, as well as the potential to be converted into a recreation room or added bedrooms for the kids someday. The main floor had a large eat-in kitchen, living room, bathroom, and a small den that Jonathon had claimed as his room. Joyce thought it was too small but he loved the cozy space.
The upstairs had a - praise the Lord! - second bathroom and three bedrooms, so Will and El could now have their own rooms. They had splurged on new curtains and area rugs, bedspreads, blankets and lamps, bathroom accessories and towels. Will had selected a couple of whimsical shower curtains with bold, colorful geometric patterns. Their biggest ‘splurge’ had been a new portable phone that had a speaker built in and could be carried around the house. It would be really handy for Will and El to talk to Mike together. Joyce knew this had been a major adjustment for her children and wanted them to be as comfortable as possible in their new surroundings. The new, colorful additions made this house feel more like a home.
Their home. Their first home away from Hawkins.
El was adapting to being in school as well as could be expected. Her friends and family had been tutoring her for months, with only a short, much-needed break over the summer, and all that work was paying off. She loved math and science and managed well in the other classes. English was still a bit of a struggle but she worked really hard at it. While she still had some difficulties communicating in large groups or when feeling pressured, this could normally be passed off as shyness. Will had already made a few new friends when his artistic talent had been discovered and he was recruited to paint backdrops for the school play.
It was all working out.
Finally, she felt like she could breathe again.
Really.
Except…
Except that Hopper’s presence was still missed. So much.
All of this would have been so much better if he were here, sharing it with her.
Joyce still had the occasional conversation with Hop in her head. It was a coping mechanism – she knew that – but it worked for her. El had her own way of coping. More often than not she would run herself a bubble bath at various hours (much easier to do now with an extra bathroom in the house). Lately she had settled on the early morning. She said it was to help her relax but a few times she had exited the bathroom with a haunted look on her face and would not talk about it. Joyce assumed she had been crying about Hopper and knew El would come to her when she was ready to talk, and not before. One thing she had quickly learned was that you could not force things with this girl. She had one of the conversations with Hopper in her head after an encounter with El this morning, when she rushed past her without a word and locked her bedroom door.
What is going on with her, Hop?
You’re asking me? You know I was always clueless about that touchy-feely stuff.
You were not.
Joyce…
Well, not completely clueless. (grins to herself)
Well, regardless, I have no idea. But I wouldn’t push her. You know what she’s like.
Yeah, that’s what I thought too. It’s just… hard… you know. I want to be there for her.
You are. She knows that. You know that too, right Joyce?
Yeah, I know.
You sure?
Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks Hop.
A pleasure, as always, ma’am.
Joyce stared at the closed door wishing, for the thousandth time, that Hopper was here.
*****
The almost daily torture that he endured for the first several weeks had finally stopped when they realized he didn’t know much more than they did when it came to the Upside Down, or the Blackness, as they called it. And what he did know he kept to himself, no matter what they did to him. Including when they had paraded him down to the bowels of the building to show him the Demogorgon they had imprisoned. How they had gotten hold of one he didn’t know. He pretended he’d never seen or heard of one. But it was just as terrifying as he remembered, a bigger version of those damn dogs.
When they started asking questions about psychics, children with special abilities, how the gate had opened in the first place – he completely clammed up and played dumb. He didn’t know how they could possibly know anything about Brenner’s experiments on children, or El, but he’d be damned if he was going to give them any information. Not about El. Never.
Once he had been put to work he didn’t even mind the back breaking labor. At least it got him out of his cell and into the fresh air. It also gave him a chance to survey his surroundings, which were admittedly bleak and seemingly unescapable. Between the guards, dogs, snowmobiles, and guns, it would be suicide to make an escape attempt. The food was also not nearly as bad as he expected. His captors seemed to understand that you couldn’t work men this hard and not replenish them. There wasn’t a lot of meat, but there was almost unlimited root vegetables like beets, yams, potatoes, and carrots that were somewhat filling. The soups and stews were actually quite tasty. And there was bread – lots of bread. Between the work and the lack of junk food his body looked more like it did when he served in Vietnam. Lighter. Stronger. Quicker.
With much less hair.
He remembered the first time they shaved his head, when all he could think about was El. How that poor little kid had been kept shorn like a sheep for the convenience of her captors. He remembered having a discussion with her about it a month after they moved into the cabin…
Hopper came up behind El to put his coffee cup in the sink as she was rinsing her breakfast dishes. Her hair seemed to already have grown another inch and there was a definite indication that it could have some curl. He had been slowly adding signs of physical affection since she moved in with him, so he softly rubbed his hand on her head for the first time. He couldn’t help himself. Her hair looked so soft. Like Sara’s had been before it all fell out.
El looked at him inquisitively, not sure what to make of it. He had been cautious about physical contact, not wanting to spook her, but she was growing to like it. A hand on her shoulder, or tucking herself close beside him on the couch when they watched a movie. It was all so new to her. But she liked it. And she liked the feel of his huge warm hand on her head.
He smiled down at her, “Your hair’s getting longer, yeah?”
Abruptly her entire demeanor changed. She stepped back, away from him, as tears welled in her eyes. Hopper had no idea what he had said or done to upset her.
“El, what’s wrong?” he asked, kneeling down so he could look her in the eye. He was well aware that his size could be intimidating. He used it to his advantage quite often, but never with her. Tears were running down her face and she was clearly trying to stifle her sobs. Hopper tentatively reached out and touched one of her elbows. “El, you need to tell me what’s wrong. I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”
She took a few deep, hitching breaths. “Time to cut.”
He was still confused. “El, honey, what do you mean.”
She moved one hand to the top of her head. “Hair.”
Oh Jesus. He thought he was going to make her shave her head again. How could he be such an idiot? He pulled her into a quick hug and then released her. “El, I would never make you cut your hair. You can let it grow as long as you want, okay? Understand?”
She just stared at him for a minute, not sure whether to believe him. Ever since she was six, her head had been shaved regularly. She was used to it but loathed it. But now - now she didn’t want to do it anymore. She had to wear fake hair when she was with Mike to look normal. Pretty. And Will’s mom and Nancy had beautiful long hair. She wanted to look like them.
“I can… can let it grow?” she asked tentatively.
He smiled at her. “Of course you can.”
She gave him a small smile, finally understanding. Then she remembered one of the fairy tales that they had read last week. “Like Rapunzel?”
Hopper laughed and stood back up, rubbing her head again.
“Sure kiddo, as long as you want.”
He had lost track of the exact day, but guessed it was mid-October. He didn’t even want to think about how cold this place was going to be in another couple of months. Winter in Russia was no one’s idea of a vacation. He didn’t want to think about it. Instead, he remembered his departure from Hawkins.
After having two guns pulled on him he had raised his hands in surrender. No sense getting shot after miraculously surviving the destruction of that machine. They had hustled him down a long uphill passageway, stumbling along in the dark before emerging up a ladder and into a field. Much to his surprise, a helicopter sat there waiting for them. He desperately looked around, trying to determine where he was and plan an escape route now that he was on solid ground. He thought they might be near the Middleton farm. But then he felt a sudden sharp jab and a deep burning pain in his neck. He’d been injected with something and could already feel his legs starting to sag.
He was grabbed under both arms, forced into the waiting helicopter, and roughly thrown into a back seat. One hand was cuffed to the wall to make sure he couldn’t get out, but by this point his legs were like jelly and he knew it was only a matter of time before he blacked out. The chopper lifted and he leaned against a small window, watching the ground get smaller beneath them. One of his abductors had climbed into the front and instructed the pilot, pointing with the gun still in his hand, to veer to the left.
A moment later, Hopper saw the flashing lights of several emergency vehicles and he realized they were flying over the mall. Every muscle protested, but he forced himself to reposition his body to get a better look. There were several other helicopters on the ground, so this one would probably be assumed to be American and go unnoticed. There were people and vehicles everywhere, and he strained to see if he could identify anything familiar. Did Joyce close the gate in time? Did she and Murray get out? Had they destroyed the fleshy spider monster? Thank God the kids had all left for Murray’s and were safe.
He continued to scan the mall parking lot. Jesus Christ – there was the Toddmobile! And Jonathon’s car! What the hell? The kids were supposed to be in Illinois by now. What the fuck were those cars doing here? What were the kids doing here? Were they ok? El? Where was El?
And then the mall was gone and the helicopter swooped higher, taking him off to God knows where. His last thought was “Jesus, they’ll think I’m dead and not look for me” before slipping into blackness.
Strangely, they moved him to a much nicer cell when the torture stopped. A more comfortable bed, with a desk, chair, and lamp. It also had a toilet, sink and mirror in one corner. His other cell had nothing but a cot and a bucket. He didn’t know why he had been moved to these first class accommodations, but was grateful.
The one thing that did bother him here – more than he would have expected, given his previous years of solitary existence – was the lack of company. Companionship. Most of the other prisoners only spoke Russian and mostly ignored him. The guards only barked a few words of English when it suited them. “Hurry up”, “Move!”, “Now!”. He had become quite used to being surrounded with kids of all ages and spending time with El, Joyce, Flo, his deputies, and members of the Hawkins community. The conversations, arguments, and banter was never ending when the whole crazy extended family was together, which they often were. People were always ‘just dropping by’ at the cabin, or he and El visited the Byers’ for movie night, or a tutor came for El’s lessons, or it was someone’s birthday. He missed every single one of them and, of course, longed for El and Joyce until the pain ripped through his soul. Sometimes he missed El so much he even imagined seeing her.
But the most surprising thing was that he genuinely missed just talking to people. In English.
Which was why it had been a welcome surprise when one of the younger guards working a 12 hour night shift started hanging around his cell door late at night. His name was Gregor, he was 22, and best of all he spoke fairly good English. He wanted to learn about America and have conversations with Hopper to improve his English skills. So most nights for the last couple of weeks Gregor carried his ‘lunch’ and a chair and settled down outside Hopper’s door for an hour or so during his midnight meal break. He was the youngest of seven children, each one starting with a consecutive letter of the alphabet. Hence, with G being the seventh letter, his parents named him Gregor. If he’d been a girl he would have been Gretchen. Tonight, he slipped the extra sandwich he had brought through the thin opening in the door and pushed in a small wooden block to keep the flap forced open so they could hear one another better.
“Thanks for the sandwich,” Hop said gratefully, sitting on the chair he had positioned near the door and peering out through the slot. While the food here was better than expected, he never turned down the extra nourishment. He needed to keep his strength up if the opportunity ever presented itself to get out of here. He unwrapped the meaty treat – it looked like thick pastrami on rye with that mustard he liked – and took a bite. “Delicious,” he said.
“So, say me more of the New York City. Why is it city that doesn’t sleep?” Gregor asked.
****
If Mike had to hear Suzy say ‘Dusty-Bun’ one more time he would, quite literally, become nauseous.
The sun was shining but the mid-October air had a definite chill to it. He had been waiting patiently for his turn with Cerebro, listening to Suzy and Dustin’s never ending farewell and how much, how very much - how very, very, very, much - they missed each other. Finally, they ran out of ‘verys’ and signed off, just before his patience reached its limit. Dustin handed the microphone over to Mike with his usual ‘I love her SO much’ grin on his face. It was hard to be critical when he knew he looked exactly the same the minute he heard El’s voice.
They were both in deep.
He and Dustin had been climbing up the hill almost daily to talk to their absent girlfriends. Mike could use the phone too, of course, but that wasn’t a current option for Dustin. Suzy’s parents did not appreciate long distance calls. She had been working on them to allow a weekly call from Dustin and another short one to Dustin, but so far the answer was no.
Nevertheless, with Max now working at Melvad’s after school some nights and Lucas recruited for the junior basketball team (he had grown two inches since July) it had given Mike and Dustin the opportunity to spend more time together. And what better way to do that than to commiserate about how much they missed their girlfriends. Normally they made the trek up the hill after school but as it was Sunday, it was early afternoon.
They were going to meet up with Lucas and Max later at the cabin, which was still their unofficial clubhouse and favorite gathering place. He would be forever grateful to Nancy, who had the initial idea to repair the cabin after it had been demolished by the spider monster. It had taken a great deal of time and effort (and money from Joyce) to put it back the way it was. Better, even.
Mike changed the frequency and held the microphone to his mouth. “El? You there? Over.”
He waited patiently. They had agreed on a call time and he was a few minutes late. A second later he heard her voice. Her sweet voice. “Mike! I’m here. Over.”
He grinned. “Hey, I forgot to ask yesterday, how was your math quiz Friday? Over.”
“Easy. I think I did really well. Has Holly’s tooth come out yet? Over.”
Mike smiled. “Yeah, last night. The tooth fairy left her a dollar. She was ecstatic. How’s Will? Over.”
“He’s out with Jonathon but said to say hi to everyone. Over.”
Dustin shuffled a little way off to give Mike some privacy, checking Cerebro’s structure and tightening some joints. Now seemed like a good time to ask. He lowered his voice. “Any more visions?”
There was a pause before El finally answered. “This morning. Over.”
Mike glanced at Dustin, not sure if he was listening. If he was, he was doing a good job of pretending not to. “Any new information? Over.”
He had been stuck between a rock and hard place since El had told him, on a private late night phone call last week, that she had started having dreams and visions about Hopper. He didn’t think it was unusual for her to have dreams about him, but she was having more vivid visions in the bathtub while awake, which was unusual. And similar to when they recreated the bath in the gym when she found Will in the Upside Down. While he was happy she seemed to be finally getting some of her powers back and was able to use the void again, he was worried about her state of mind. She had been sounding more and more like she thought her visions were real, that Hopper was actually alive and she was visiting him, wherever he was. He wasn’t completely sure how to handle it.
El answered, “He was sitting on a chair talking to someone, but I couldn’t see the other person. Over.”
Normally she could only see people in the void that she already knew, so he supposed this made sense. “What was he saying? Over.”
“He thanked someone for bringing him a sandwich. Over.”
A sandwich? A pretty mundane detail. He didn’t want to encourage what was obviously an unreal expectation, but he didn’t want to completely squash her hopes either. Hopper was dead and there was no bringing him back. Wasn’t he? It was a fine line between being supportive and not fueling an impossible wish. She had been completely broken hearted when Hopper died and he didn’t want her to go through it again if this wasn’t real. Maybe she was seeing his past? He supposed that was possible as she said he looked different, and she had previously seen her mother’s past.
“So no other clues? Over.”
“No. I lost contact.” She was obviously disappointed, forgetting to say ‘over’.
“Have you talked to Mrs. Byers about it yet? Over.” He had been surprised to learn that El hadn’t confided any of this to Will. Or Mrs. Byers. Or anyone but him. He understood why El would be reluctant to tell Mrs. Byers. El hadn’t been the only broken hearted person. All the kids knew how Hopper and Joyce felt about each other, even if they hadn’t seemed to have figured it out yet.
“Not yet. Over.”
El knew it didn’t make sense. She knew she was building up hope for something that was totally impossible. And yet, it seemed so real. She had ‘visited’ Hopper on two occasions before leaving Hawkins and had seen him five more times since settling in Evansville two weeks ago. Each visit was a little clearer and a little longer, and she was finally starting to get a sense of his overall surroundings, not just the immediate vicinity around his body. Depending on the time of day she would see him doing different things – sleeping, working outside, eating, reading. It was frustrating, because he never seemed to be doing what made sense for the time of day, like being dead asleep at ten in the morning. And every time she felt like she was going to make a breakthrough, she disconnected. She wanted so bad for it to be real, but she knew it couldn’t be.
Could it?
Mike didn’t like the sadness in her voice. It was time to change the subject. So he prattled on about Nancy’s work at the local paper, talked about seeing Steve and Robin at the video store, the movie he watched last night, passed on hellos from Max and Nancy, and in general tried to keep her focused on happy things. It worked for the most part, and finally they were ready to sign off.
“Bye El. I’ll call you tomorrow around 8 pm, ok? Over.”
“That would be great. Will wants to talk to you too. Say bye to Dustin. Love you. Over.”
“Love you too. Over.”
They had just started feeling comfortable enough to say ‘I love you’ out loud during calls. It still felt new and exhilarating and he was suddenly aware that he had that sickening “I love her so much” look on his face because Dustin was smiling at him.
He glared back. “You and Suzy are way worse than me and El,” he accused.
“So what if we are?” Dustin replied, unabashed. “I don’t care, she’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Mike couldn’t help but smile too. “Yeah, same here. You know how she can –“
Strange words started coming out of the receiver, silencing Dustin and Mike as they stared at it. In his euphoria Mike had forgotten to turn it off.
“Can you make that out?” Mike asked, curious. What on earth was it. A foreign language?
Dustin’s eye grew wide. He had heard this before. “I think it’s Russian!” he exclaimed. Then, as he had no tape recorder, he added, “Quick, get something and write down everything you hear.”
Mike scrambled to open his backpack, reaching in for a notepad and pen. “But I don’t understand Russian. And why are we hearing Russian? Where is it coming from?”
The jibberish continued coming out of the receiver.
“You don’t have to understand it,” Dustin explained. “Just write down what you hear phonetically and we’ll get Robin to try to translate it. Or Murray if we have to. That’s what we did last time.”
Mike held the pen to paper and started to write, with no idea what the words meant.
Jibber… jabber… rabott tad… Martin Brenner… delay ett...
Mike froze and looked at Dustin. “Did you hear that?”
Dustin nodded, eyes wide. “Brenner. But he’s dead, right. I mean, the Demogorgon...” He had to be dead. The Russian voice kept talking, but Mike was still frozen. Then another distinct voice joined the conversation. “Mike! Keep writing!” Dustin prompted.
Jibberish… Brenner… ot vets ten ny …. mogu del at sech to u god no … jibber jabber… James Hopper….
Mike and Dustin exchanged astonished glances but Mike’s hand never stopped writing. His heart was racing at the sound of the familiar name. Hopper.
Jabber…Informats eeya…on… osta vat see ya … Cam Chatka…..
Another name. Who the hell was Cam Chatka? Mike kept writing feverishly, trying to keep up. Finally there was a pause in the Russian conversation.
Pony all
And that was it.
****
“So what did you think of the movie?” Jonathon asked Will. They had just seen ‘The Adventures of Natty Gann’.
“I would have rather seen Commando, but it was pretty good,” Will teased.
“Mom would kill me if I snuck you into an R rated movie, buddy.”
It had been a nice afternoon, spending time together. Prior to the move to Evansville, Jonathon had spent every spare second with Nancy. Will had mostly been with his friends or keeping an eye on El and their mom. The brothers had quickly adjusted to having another person living with them, and they both loved El like a sister, but there was no denying that it had been a major adjustment for all of them. Especially El and their mom, who were deeply grieving. They were all grieving the loss of Hopper, but El and Joyce were like the epicenter.
Then, after the move, they had been busy getting adjusted to their new lives, unpacking, and missing the people in Hawkins. They had barely spent any time together since July, just the two of them. So on this cloudy day when El was waiting for Mike to call and Joyce was helping do inventory at the hardware store for a few hours, they decided it was about time. First they had tried a new little greasy spoon restaurant and had a late morning breakfast and then they had gone to the movies and pigged out on popcorn and Nerds.
“So what do you wanna do now?” Will asked. The clouds had almost cleared and the sun was peeking through. He’d really enjoyed this ‘one on one’ time with his big brother and he wasn’t ready for their day to end yet.
“We could go take a walk along the river, we haven’t been down there yet.” The Ohio river ran through town, and Kentucky was on the other side of the natural state line.
Will smiled. “Yeah that sounds good.”
****
“What part of ‘Code Red’ do you not understand?” Mike demanded when Nancy, Robin, and Steve finally arrived at the cabin at quarter to four.
“Jesus Mike, calm down,” Nancy scolded, but the wild look in his eyes was already making her nervous. What on earth was going on now? She had just finally begun been feeling normal and not missing Jonathon every second of the day. Almost.
Steve shut the door after he and the girls were inside. As usual, the cabin was homey and comfortable. And warm, thankfully, as someone had started a fire. They had all done a great job cleaning it up and restoring the structural damage. Lucas and Max were on the couch with Dustin, who was looking a little shell shocked. Robin took a seat in Hoppers lazy boy while Mike and Nancy continued to glare at each other in front of the tv.
“Ok guys, what is going on?” Steve asked calmly. Surely this was just an over-reaction to something insignificant. Everyone in this group was always on edge. Always looking for things that didn’t belong, didn’t make sense, could be construed as a conspiracy or an invasion. You could hardly blame them after the last few years. As he glanced around the room he was thankful that at least they had been through it all together. This was his family. These were his kids. And if something was happening, he would try to protect them like he always did. He glanced over at his infamous nailed bat, which they kept by the coat rack.
“Now that everyone’s here, just start at the beginning,” Max said. She and Lucas had been on pins and needles since arriving a half hour ago because Mike and Dustin had refused to start until everyone arrived.
“Okay.” Mike pulled up a chair from the kitchen and sat down. Nancy squeezed onto the couch, making Dustin happy. Steve perched on arm of the lazy boy. “We heard Russian on the radio. On Cerebro,” Mike started.
“Russian? Are you sure?” Robin asked. They assumed all the Russians had either been captured or left town.
“I’m sure,” Dustin said. “Mike wrote down as much as he could. We’re hoping you can translate it like you did the last time. I brought the Russian-English dictionary but you know I can’t figure it out.”
Mike pulled the papers out of his backpack and exchanged a glance with Dustin. They had agreed ahead of time that Mike would drop the bomb. Dustin gave him a ‘get on with it’ look.
“The thing is, we could make out some names that were spoken during the conversation,” Mike continued.
“What names?” Lucas asked. He knew Mike and Dustin as well as friends could know each other, and he knew they were freaked out about something.
Mike started to read. “Cam Chatka, Martin Brenner… and…”
Everyone in the room reacted at once.
“Brenner! No!”
“He’s dead.”
“What!”
“Hold on, hold on,” Nancy said, trying to quell the energy in the room. She knew her brother and she could tell from his face that there was more coming. “What else Mike?”
He hesitated for a second before blurting out, “James Hopper. They said the Chief’s name.”
This time the room was silent.
“But… why?” Max asked, confused.
“Exactly – why?” Mike repeated. “There has to be a reason. And the same for Brenner.”
It still hurt to think about the Chief being dead, but Steve had to say it. “Because they’re both dead?”
“Why would the Russians be talking about two dead people though?” Lucas asked. “And who is Cam Chatka?”
Mike promised he wouldn’t tell El’s secret, but there was no avoiding it now. “The thing is, El has been having some visions and she thinks she’s been seeing Hopper.”
“What!” Nancy exclaimed.
“What the hell!” Lucas added.
“Why didn’t you say something?” Dustin yelled.
“She’s my best friend and she didn’t say anything to me about it,” Max grumbled.
“So El’s powers are starting to come back?” Steve finally asked.
“It appears that way, although they’re still weak,” Mike confirmed.
The room erupted again, this time with more happy excitement. If something was going on, El having her powers back was huge. A game changer.
“Quiet! Quiet everyone,” Steve said, standing up and moving in front of the couch. “Let’s just remain calm and we can figure this thing out, okay? We need to approach it logically.”
“Well, okay then, first of all, how strong was the signal you picked up?” Robin asked.
“Strong,” Dustin replied. “Really strong, actually. Which means that at least one half of the conversation was happening nearby. Maybe both.”
“In Hawkins,” Lucas agreed.
“So, there’s still a Russian presence here,” Nancy stated. “But why?”
“That’s what we need to find out, and maybe that will help us figure out why they were talking about Hopper,” Mike replied, getting up and walking the pages over to Robin. “We should start with deciphering these.”
Robin took a quick look at the pseudo-Russian nonsense that Mike had written down. Her brain and the Russian-English dictionary were about to get a major workout. At least the last time she had a tape recording and could hear it for herself. This was basically jibberish.
“And you need to tell us more about El’s visions,” Nancy told him.
The chance that Hopper may be alive was tantalizing. He was a surrogate dad to everyone in this room and had been sorely missed. Could he possibly be alive?
They spent the next twenty minutes learning more about what El had seen – a large dreary building, what could be some kind of prison cell, Hopper swinging what looked like a long hammer, that he talked to someone around the same time every day, so El normally used the bath around seven o’clock in the morning. This was the best time to find him talking, in case he provided a clue as to his whereabouts. She didn’t have a feel for exactly where he was, but it seemed quite far away. At least, it didn’t feel close. Mike believes that El thinks Hopper might really be alive. That it’s more than just a simple dream.
There is stunned silence for a few minutes once he’s finished.
“Hopper’s body was never found,” Lucas said hopefully, looking around at everyone.
“So… it’s possible then, right?” Max asked.
It seemed too good to be true, that they could actually get the paternal member of their extended family back. If there was the slightest chance that he really was alive, they wanted to do everything possible to help bring him back. The conversation continued for another half hour. When they finished, the fire was extinguished and everyone donned their jackets by the door.
“Okay. Robin, you’re going to decipher the notes. Nancy you’re going to keep your eyes open at the paper for anything strange and see if you can track down Cam Chatka. Lucas, Max, Dustin, and I will take shifts listening on the super coms for any more Russian conversations. Steve, you’ll cover when we’re in school,” Mike said, summarizing the agreed upon tasks.
“As much as I can when I’m at work,” Steve clarified.
“I’ll help with that too,” Robin agreed.
“And we’ve already split up the list,” Dustin said. They had created a list of new people in town to help identify a possible Russian invader. It’s extremely short given how unappealing Hawkins is these days, thanks to the wild news coverage. A new staff member at the newspaper was one of them, so Nancy was going to look into him.
“And Mike and I will call El, Will, and Jonathon tomorrow night with an update so they can talk to Joyce. We can’t keep them in the dark,” Nancy added. She had insisted on it. The only way they had been successful in the past was when they all worked together. They needed to do the same now.
“Great, so everyone keep your eyes and ears open and we’ll regroup here in a few days and go over our progress.”
Steve couldn’t help but glance at his nailed bat on the way out the door.
****
The next night Gregor bid Hopper good night, picked up his chair and made his way down the long hallway. After replacing the chair in the guards’ lunchroom, he took the stairs up one floor and knocked on an office door.
“Come in.”
Gregor opened the door, entered, and saluted. His superior officer half-heartedly saluted back, but the man at the table made no move. Instead, he continued to look down at the papers on the table, seemingly uninterested. They appeared to be some kind of architectural drawings.
“Any progress?” the Russian commander asked in English, for the benefit of their guest.
“Not much sir, he was spoken of his time on the polices forced in New York.” Mainly because Gregor had asked him about New York the last three days, but they didn’t need to know that part. And his English was better than he just demonstrated, but they didn’t need to know that either.
“Nothing about Hawkins?”
“No sir. But I am … how you say it?... gaining his trust. I should be able to ask more questioning soon.”
The dissatisfaction was clear on his superior’s face. Gregor did not like to disappoint, but they needed to understand that if he asked too many pointed questions too quickly, the whole operation would be blown. It had been decided that, since torture hadn’t worked, a new approach was needed. If they settled him in a more comfortable cell and someone ‘befriended’ the man, he may be more open to sharing information. Comfort generally enabled a wagging tongue.
Gregor’s brother had defected to America, which had disgraced the family and landed him in this godforsaken place. He needed to do everything possible to salvage the family name and get out of here, so was glad to have landed this important assignment. But he could only do so much - the drawback of this approach was that it took time. And these men had very little patience.
The man with the white hair at the table finally looked up, making his facial scars visible. “So nothing about the girl?”
“No. I’m very apologies. Not yet.”