Northern Passage (S.T.A.L.K.E.R., Book 2)
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Life goes on in the Exclusion Zone around ill-fated Chernobyl - adventurers calling themselves Stalkers hunt for valuable artifacts, mutants hunt for Stalkers and the Zone still decides over the fate of souls living within its wild frontiers. Behind the scenes, the Ukrainian Secret Service is forcing a fallen hero to betray a friend.
In the New Zone, the Exclusion Zone?s vast twin phenomenon and apparently created after nuclear warheads devastated Afghanistan in 2011, renegade US Marines calling themselves the Tribe patrol the mountain ranges, Stalkers try to establish themselves in ruins of Bagram Air Base and mutated predators migrate to the anomaly-infested plains. All these dangers can not dissuade those hardy souls who brave the New Zone. But whatever their motives, however great their courage, a new power is arising and its vicious plan threatens to destroy them all.
Major Tarasov, a Spetsnaz commander turned renegade, knows the New Zone?s darkest secrets. While in a land far away, he receives alarming messages from the Exclusion Zone. Is an old friend in danger? Does someone else know the secrets he discovered? Or could it be a trap set by his former masters to lure him back?
The sequel to S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Southern Comfort, the first English novelization from the Zone S.T.A.L.K.E.R. universe.
for him, sir.” “You can start by offering a few days of extra leave and a little cash to your grunts or anyone who leads him to you… but that will not likely help you much. For God’s sake, your file says you’re a resourceful officer, Maksimenko. Could the Service be wrong about you? Find him.” Maksimenko stares at the match, now halfway burnt, its small flame licking the skin on the colonel’s palm and fingers. Not as much as an eyelid stirs on Kruchelnikov’s face. “I—I think I know of a way to
Then, Nooria is wanted for murder. Geez, imagine how much the FBI would want to bag one who killed three spooks! The KGB or whatever it’s called here must be even worse.” Tarasov gives him an allowing nod. “So, with all due respect, Top,” Pete continues, ”empty talk about honor won’t make us any better than the baddies we’re about to join. At least not in the eyes of the guys on our tail. Let’s face it, folks – for the world outside, we’re all just criminals and outcasts!” “You are way wrong
facilitate any Stalker’s favorite pastime—drinking vodka and munching on canned meat, exactly what most of them are doing. A few veterans are standing atop the containers, keeping watch over the perimeter. One of them, wearing an army-issue exoskeleton with a Bandit’s arm patch, gives Tarasov a long and inquisitive look. A Vintorez rifle is slung across his shoulder. “See that exo guy?” he asks the Top without looking in the Bandit’s direction. He touches the balaclava to reassure himself that
know, when you see a friend die, that can devastate your heart. If you see your love die—that can bring the wild animal out from the bottom of your soul. We don’t need anyone going into a killing frenzy to revenge a dead woman, or taking on too high risks to get her out of harm’s way. Both are bad for discipline. That’s why we don’t tolerate any homos in our ranks either.” “I get your point, but the ancient Greeks even promoted homosexuality among their soldiers. They thought, a man will fight
showing you around my abode until tea is ready. There’s a room with a few mattresses where you can sleep, and my laboratory is next.” The Doctor takes a petroleum lamp and leads his guests into the neighboring room. Except Tarasov, all are surprised when they see metal shelves loaded with artifacts, the apparently more dangerous in radiation-proof, scientific containers. There is a surgery bed in the corner, together with an old-fashioned hospital lamp and a white cabinet on which all kinds of