Pathetic! These beings think they can take me out. It is as Bane tells me. They are vain and think too highly of their abilities. I will make short work of them for my Master's pleasure.
Pin darted toward the vehicle barreling toward him as bullets whizzed overhead. The acolyte's gloved arm was a blur as his gleaming weapon cut through the canopy of the military jeep as well as taking out the left tires. The decapitated head of the driver tumbled out of the vehicle and rolled onto the gravelly road like a soccer ball. Small vermillion drops marked the distance it had traveled from the disabled military jeep. Kicking it out of his way, the newest acolyte advanced onto what was left of the Soviet vehicle in order to finish off the remaining occupants. If they were willing to put up a last act of desperate resistance, it would make the whole affair even more thrilling. Pin's hopes were realized when a figure leapt out of the ruined jeep and warily turned to face him.
A challenge? Good! I just hope he lasts long enough to give me a work out! This should be fun!
---
"Dermo! It cut his head clean off like cake!"Danilenko shrieked as they watched the shrouded figure's shining weapon, similar to a beacon of light, blaze through the side of their vehicle and decapitate the driver. Their assailant skidded to a stop behind their ruined jeep and raised its weapon to start a second run.
This isn't good! Bullets didn't seem to faze it one bit. It seems that I need to take matters into my own hands if we are to leave this place alive.
Maxim Fyodorov lunged out of the vehicle and readied his side arm as he turned to face their attacker. The Russian agent fought the urge to flinch as the darkening sky gave the cloaked figure an ominous appearance. As the raging wind flicked his enemy's metallic coat up in the wind, Max got a glimpse of only darkness underneath the metallic exterior.
No wonder the bullets couldn't make their mark on the damn thing! It has to be an intangible force that is personified into that body. After seeing that, no way can I doubt what Zaitsev, Dragunov, and Leonidovich are claiming about this entity. There is no way that I can take it down on my own, but I need to stall it so Danilenko and the others can get away and bring in reinforcements.
The dark entity adjusted its helmet, which resembled something from that American movie Max saw a few months back called Star Wars, before facing the KGB agent with its barred mask on. Raising its gleaming weapon, the masked wraith crouched before advancing onto its target.
"You want me? Well, come and get me! I am not going anywhere. Neither are you!"
With superhuman agility and speed, the phantom struck its glowing staff toward Max. If the agent had been a second slower in ducking out of the way, he would have been decapitated just like the driver of their jeep. The poor sap never stood a chance.
"Eat lead, specter!"
Maxim fired a couple shots at the specter's chest, but it kept advancing as if it didn't feel the streaking projectiles, but Max didn't expect the bastard to. The point was to provide a distraction so his comrades could escape without it noticing. From the corner of his eye, he noticed the three remaining KGB team members slinking out of the vehicle and scurry toward the shadows of the nearby alley. Suddenly, the two guards turned and open fired on the demonic entity.
No! Those idiots ruined the purpose of the distraction!
The phantom halted its advance in order to turn its attention to the guards. Suddenly, Max heard a yelp of pain as the guards crumpled to the ground. Standing behind them with a sword glowing the color of the sun was the hooded figure with the skull mask. In the shadows that may have resulted from a glowing neon red hue that might have emanated from the mysterious being, the agent noticed his partner crawling hastily away from their target. Max knew he had to provide some kind of distraction lest the skull man and his grenade-faced partner turn their attention on him and Danilenko.
There must be something here that can pack a punch.
He then spotted a rocket launcher that was lying abandoned by a small patch of dirt by the side of the road. It was beyond him as to why it was abandoned there by the insurgents, but it didn't matter. One shot would be sufficient to cause a distraction great enough for the two wraiths to draw their attention away from Danilenko. The mission would be written off as a failure, but it really can't be helped. Their lives were at risk here and losing them wouldn't accomplish anything. Glancing at the cloaked entities, he knew he had to divert their attention from his partner.
"Hey, dickheads! You want some of this?"
As soon as their attention turned toward him, he fired the rocket toward the jeep, resulting in bright flames blossoming up from the wasted vehicle, lighting up the alleyway in a bright orange hue and resulting in the shadows receding. Leaving the two shapes disgruntled from the explosion and bright lights, Max darted to where his shaken partner sat and yanked him up.
"On your feet, tamarisch! We are hauling our a$$es out of here."
---
"You suppose that this is the correct direction this mysterious masked figure that the KGB sluggers are after is located? Maybe its position is where the Cheka wannabes are headed to right now?"
The driver glanced back at the GRU officer clad in the forest camouflage uniform of a GRU operative nestled between two balaclava-wearing guards sporting large AK-74s. He was distinguishable from the rest of the grunts by his officer-issued hat, a sign of power. However, to the driver, it only signified that he was just a lazy bureaucrat that was comfortable in a desk job ordering soldiers around at his leisure or even stood behind several legions of military police during an operation. In other words, he rarely got his hands dirty.
The officer only shook his head. "No, my sources claim they saw some phantasms further west. I say we are in the right track and they are misguided. It is time we have some leverage over those KGB upstarts."
Keeping silent, the driver drove through the gravelly path to nowhere in particular as dark clouds the same color as the hull of a battleship hung over the blood red setting sun. The balaclava-clad men's eyes were searching vigilantly for their target or targets as the caravan of jeeps rolled over the bumpy road. He couldn't help but feel as if a phantom claw was trying to scratch its way out of his stomach.
What is the cause of this ominous feeling of mine?
That was when he saw them. Masks glinting in the waning light, three cloaked figures stepped out in front of the convoy. The wind blew their cloaks into the air as the driver slammed on the brake.
"Are those the beings we were sent to ensnare?"
The officer leaned over and squinted. "Oh, indeed they must be. Prepare for battle, boys!"
As the GRU operatives readied their big guns, one of the figures, the one with the feminine build and porcelain mask, stepped forward as if issuing a challenge. Then, with eyes glowing as bright as headlights, it lunged at the GRU jeep.
---
"Dragunov's dogs are here."
A GRU operative known as Tolstoy glanced up from his corner of the makeshift garage that doubled as a secret GRU operating post in Chechnya. As one of his fellow wardens made the announcement, the whooshing of helicopter rotors confirmed it a second later. Along with the rest of the GRU team, he hurried outside to greet the two agents that Serj Dragunov had dispatched to the post. Out of the chopper, its red and green lights still blinking in the dark atmosphere that was lit by the floodlights outside, stepped two brawny brunet GRU agents in combat vests and military-grade clothing. The taller one, the one with the jagged scar and cold hazel eyes, carried himself before his partner as the GRU operatives at the garage parted to let them pass. Tolstoy noted that this one had to be the dominant agent. The agents then turned to face the GRU staff stationed here.
"Priviet, comrades! I am Mikhail Plekhanov and here is my partner Fyodor Borodin. We are here on an important errand from Major Dragunov, but something else has come to our attention," the scarred agent spoke.
Hushed murmurs rang out from the staff as Tolstoy fiddled nervously with his thumbs.
No, they couldn't have, could they?
Plekhanov continued his lecture. "As you have heard, a couple of our KGB rivals have stolen some property of ours from under our noses. We believe that they had inside help and we will root out this turncoat before we proceed with our objective. Now, it's always cold in Siberia."
Hearing the code phrase designed to root out possible moles from their ranks, Tolstoy responded as calmly as he could. To his complete and utter horror, it failed to satisfy Plekhanov. Dragunov's agent whirled around to face him,a frown on his face.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I have found our little insider." He pointed at the astonished mole.
"W-what? How?"
"You answered with 'Not unless you are a bear' while everyone else replied with 'wolf'," Plekhanov calmly cleared up Tolstoy's confusion. "We had the passwords changed this morning for every GRU operative, regardless if you are a field agent or staffer. I suppose you weren't logged in or you never received the information at all?
"I...I..."
The double agent went pale. He knew that he was busted.
"Borodin, order the guards to take the traitor to the detention block. He will be kept there until Dragunov can decide what is to be done with him."
Resigned, Tolstoy could only watch as two armed guards arrived to ferry him off to his cell.
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