Cold War: Aftermath

Chapter 17: An Old Friend

March 29, 1981
Moscow, USSR
Perseus Base

After they arrived to the base, Anthony had managed to change into a uniform for the more, warmer weather. Being that they were infiltrating the airstrip at night he would need to be dawned in darker clothing anyways. Dressed in black sleeves and pants , he put on a black leather vest to cover it. After lacing up his boots, he put on his black leather gloves and attached his half face covering to complete his look.

Going to the lower levels of the building, he met Stitch in the debreifing room, waiting for the other twelve soldiers that would join them on this mission.

"Everyone listen up." Anthony spoke to the men. "Our objective is to stop this small band of opposing rebels. If they wish to tear us down then they will suffer the repercusions of their actions." He said coldly.

"Two men will infiltrate the tower, here, we'll need launchers to destroy the plane. The rest of us will form up in offensive postitions and close them in." Stitch explained. "Kill anything and everything that moves, we leave no survivors."

Anthony shot his partner daggers. How stupid could Stitch really be to not leave survivors. Any leads they may have to even more rebels would prove useful.

"Yes sir!" The soldiers replied to Stitch

"Dismissed." Anthony ordered. He waited for all the men to leave before talking to Stitch. "What were you thinking? Shooting their higher ups on the spot? They could prove themselves useful for even the slightest details, perhaps insight to help us avoid problems that may be small now but could have the potential to become much larger."

"How could you be so foolish to beleive they would ever give up the intel you want. They would die before telling you the time of day."

"We'll see about that." He stormed off, towards the armory. Anthony was growing tired of his partner and he knew the feeling was mutual.

He picked up one of his personal favorite weapons, the LC10. In his opinion is was a fairly well rounded gun. After placing some attachments on it, he made sure his Redeemer pistol was still by his side as he gathered more ammo for its small mag. Picking up some throwing axes and smetexs, he put clipped some flashbangs to his belt, ready to go.

It wasnt long until he and Stitch rounded up their men and boarded a military plane, loaded with vehicles. The ride was quiet, as expected. They were about to stomp out the rising flames of rebellious actions, this he knew. What he didn't understand is why something so small and insignificant was tasked upon him. Surely this job simply could have been handed to anyone else within the Perseus ranks. He would have expected to be eleminating CIA spies and exposing their plans. Why Perseus assigned specifically him for this mission, was something that gnawed at the back of his mind.

Once off the plane they boarded their vehicles and stopped just short of the airstrip, where they took their formations.

"Wait for their signal." Anthony said over comms to his men on the ground. As he gave his two men in the tower a moment to clear through to the top, he observed the trading between the to allies in front of him.

There were men and women boarding shipments into the back of a plane from three vans. Some looked to be supplies such as ammunitions, food, weapons, and gear. However one weapon stood out the most.

"Courtesy of the CIA!" One rebel said cheerfully as he loaded the death machine into the plane. Once they were finished loading up the plane, a rebel handed over a file to one of their allies.

"Just as we agreed on." The rebel said, handing over the file. Anthony quickly grabbed for a pair of binoculors, observing the two. The rebel sported an army green long sleeve and pants, along with a blood red balaclava and small shoulder cape, which Anthony observed to have a small insignia on it.