sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ ғʀɪᴇɴᴅs - sᴄᴏᴏᴘ ᴛʀᴏᴏᴘ (ʙᴏᴏᴋ ɴᴏ. 1)

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɴᴏ. ᴛᴇɴ

"Hey!" A voice suddenly yelled from afar.

A Russian.

"Oh, you've got to be shitting me." Dustin growled, he and Steve speeding up to catch up with the rest of the group.

"Why does this always happen to us?" Steve said.

"Probably just luck," Alex replied. "You are the chosen one!"

"Well, I don't want to be the chosen one anymore!" Complained Steve.

They raced to the exit door as it seemed to get closer and closer. Just before they reached the exit, they came to a sharp stop. 4 Russian soldiers blocked the exit with their guns in their hands.

"Hands up!" One of the soldiers ordered.

They did as they were told without hesitation. Their hands shot up to the air. The Scoops Troop switched glances for a moment.

"Hey," Steve said softly.

All the soldiers directed their attentions to him.

"Put the guns down." He said slowly.

Obviously, the soldiers didn't do anything.

"Listen, if you don't do anything to us, we won't do anything to you," he reasoned with them. "Okay?"

Still, the guards did nothing.

"Steve-" Robin tried to stop him.

"Wait." He hushed her. He looked back at the Russians.

"Look, we aren't going to come back here." He tried to reason with them again. "You let us leave, and you'll never see us again." He said. "Do you like that idea? I hope you do. Because I really like that idea. Very much so."

The guards looked at each other and thought. They looked back at the Troop and moved out of the way, giving them access to the door. The Scoops Troop put their hands back to their sided and began to walk out the door.

The sight of the trees and sunlight was relieving. They were finally free. They didn't have to come back here. There had to be another brave soul out there in the world that would be willing to risk breaking into a Russian base. Maybe even another group.

But, before all of their worries and stress faded away into the blue sky, they heard a voice yell behind them.

And, no, it wasn't a good one.

"это они!" A man yelled.

It was him.

The Russian man.

He had a bruise and cuts on his bald head from where he had fallen unconscious, followed by a few cuts and scrapes on his right arm.

"Oh, this day is getting better by the second!" Mia rolled her eyes.

"Go, go, go!" Steve quickly yelled, shoving them along. They had no clue where they were going, but they did know that they were being chased.

Again.