Tarkov- No Escape

Chapter 7- Surrounded

"We have you surrounded!" yelled a voice.  Nikita sighed, took the magazine out from his AK, and stood up, holding the magazine and rifle in the air only to be met by seven muzzles pointed at his face.  "State your business!" yelled a the big guy in front.  He had on a large vest that covered his arms, chest, thorax, and neck, he also had on a helmet.  Nikita glanced closer at the tattoo on his abnormally large bicep and recognized the insignia of the Russian Naval Infantry, or Russian Marines as they were known to some BEARs.  Nikita immediately dropped his rifle and saluted, the way he was trained to in the army, "Comrade, I am here gathering supplies on Prapor's orders, I request permission to leave unharmed," he said.  The Marine lowered his rifle, which Nikita recognized as an ASH-12 assault rifle, and instructed his goons to lower their AK-74M's and AK-103's.  He walked forward, his footsteps making dull thuds on the concrete as he looked at Nikita, seeming to tower over him.  "Permission granted, inform Prapor that I have request, ammunition is running low," he said.  Nikita saluted again.  "Affirmative comrade, may I ask what name I may address you as?" he asked.  "Glukhar," said the Marine.  

Jason sat in the hideout, occasionally getting up off his bed to do pushups, chuck more empty beer bottles into the darkness on the far side of the hideout, or calling Nikita on the radio, to no success.  He had the dimensions of the door measured out, everything was going according to plan, all he needed was the damn door.  Suddenly, he heard rustling outside.  "Nikita?" Jason called.  Silence.  "Nikita, I'm down here!" he said.  No response.  He undid the button on his holster and put his hand on his sidearm.  He stepped over the trashbags in the doorway and walked up the stairs, and looking around.  "Nikita, are you there?" he called.  Another rustle could be heard, seemingly from above him.  Confused, Jason glanced up, only to see a masked figure, diving down at him.  They both fell to the ground in a heap, grappling with each other.  The figure retreated and pulled out a mosin nagant and firing it at him.  Jason dived sideways as the whizzed past his ear.  Although his ears were ringing from the gunshot, he managed to grab the long barrel of the rifle and wrestle it away from the scav, disassembling the bolt so the rifle couldn't be used.  As soon as he threw the rifle aside, his mind flashed back to his Marine Corps Martial Arts program and the instructions.  Instinctively, Jason got into the proper stance and threw a killer roundhouse kick, hitting the scav in the head.  He followed this up with two lightning fast punches.  The scav recoiled, and pulled out a makarov pistol.  Jason repeated a similar action to when he took the rifle, and grabbed the pistol, this time using a simple spartan kick.  The scav pulled out a knife and charged.  Quick as a flash, Jason raised the pistol and shot the scav just below the chest.   The scav cried out in a strangely high pitch that seemed unusual for a man.  This aroused Jason's curiosity as he slowly walked forward.  Taking a closer look, he realized this scav was thinner, and with a slightly smaller build that the others.  "Oh shit," he said out loud as a new thought entered his mind.  He picked up the scav and carried them inside, laying them down on the mattress.  He picked up a nearby morphine syringe he had found in raid and carefully stuck the needle into the scav's arm.  He pushed down on the plunger and he looked at the scav's eyes, which were starting to close.  The painkiller was so strong that it was knocking the scav out.  He then grabbed the surgery kit that Nikita gave him to repair his gunshot wound and his radio.  "Nikita, I got a scav here, injured, I need you here quick and bring medical supplies, he might not make it without them," he said.  "Copy that, I am enroute with your door as well," said Nikita over the radio.  

Nikita hurdled over the trash bags and ran to where Jason was holding a washcloth over the wound, having successfully removed the bullet.  "Status?" asked Nikita.  "Stable, I need clean dressings and wrap, pronto," he said.  "Hold on," said Nikita as he took a bottle of vodka out of his backpack.  Jason looked over bewildered as Nikita poured vodka on some bandages.  "It sterilizes the wound, prevents infection," he explained, as if reading Jason's mind.  After getting the scav bandaged and the door fitted, Nikita left, bidding farewell to Jason.  Now alone except for the still knocked out scav, Jason glanced over at them, his mind growing with curiosity.  "Who are you?" he muttered to himself as he began to undo the mask.  

Reshala couldn't help but be pleased with himself.  He admired his new cache of weapons, body armor, food, supplies, and prostitutes with a smile on his face.  As his men patrolled around outside the gas station, he began looking at the maps on his table, pausing every now and then to play with his gold tokarev pistol, drink some alcohol, or slap a prostitute if they upset him.  That one USEC who approached the gas station was not found at the USEC camp.  Reshala began to think.  Were there more?  Did he tell others where his base was?  One thing was certain, he had to find and kill that USEC.