Viper 1-1, on standby.

46: Sloth

Blazkovicjh is tired. Let Blazkovicjh sleep. - Ryan "Insomnia" Blazkovicjh

Ryan PoV:

The dripping of a water faucet was what woke me up. The clock read 9:00 pm, a three hour difference from the last time I had checked. Getting dressed, I put on my half-mask and gloves before putting on my chest rig. My bed was in disarray, the sheets tossed around, a symptom of my insomniac tendencies. I grabbed my helmet and AK-47, holding my AK to my side. Shit had been going down. A knock at my door took my attention back to the task at hand.

"WHAT?!" I yelled through the room, angered at myself, as I was everyday. My brother was a throbbing shit-head, and if it weren't for him, I'd still be fighting in the military. 

In 1994, I was born into Chinese descent, Li Blazkovicjh, and Monica Blazkovicjh. I was the product of an incestual fling. My mother immediately fled to Germany as soon as she was off bed-rest, leaving me, my brother, and my father. As soon as I was old enough to read and to understand words, my brother would blame me for the divorce of his (related) parents, and would hold that grudge against me. Fleeing from my abusive father, and a brother who wanted me dead, I made my way to America at eight-teen. I enlisted into the military as soon as I got my citizenship and commenced several years in the Afghanistan war. 

When asked for my name, I disowned my father and brother, and took the name of my mother. I personally believed Ryan Blazkovicjh as my mom's surname better than taking one from an abusive father.. In 2019, shortly after the end of my first enlistment, my brother communicated with me after almost six-teen years. He demanded I join his military, as he put it. At first, I would constantly have to deny my brother the pleasure of my experience in Afghanistan, but when I learned of the Ex-Spetsnaz man leading the whole rabble, I couldn't have denied he piqued my interest. Instead of re-enlisting, I took the job in "Radioactive", paid a hefty amount of money. I quickly rose up the ranks until finally taking place near my brother. How he acts though, would make people believe otherwise. He always treats me as though I am not of his rank. 

Now, I've worked with Radioactive for the past year, growing my respect among the ranks. I even lead my own under-buchons. My reminiscing of my life was ended as a voice responded from behind the door. I attributed the voice to my guard, Eagle.

Eagle: "There are attackers! Come, sir!" His frantic yelling was muffled out by the door, but I could hear the stress in his voice. A boom came from across the building, reverberating throughout. I quickly rushed out of the room, barking out orders to my men. I wasn't about to die for my monetary gain. A quick head-count revealed that the people at my disposal were yellow squad and red squad. Blue must've been with my brother at the time.

"Eagle, lead the reds to cover! Yellows', on me!"

My bodyguard, Eagle, began a quick Talmudic prayer for the men, and then hailed off to fire back at the advancing Rainbow operators.  

I and the yellows' immediately searched for exits, but were suppressed by what sounded to be a Zastava, a gun I was familiar with from my time in Afghanistan. 

Two of my men fell trying to walk out of the back exit. We had checked all the others, and the sound of gunfire was slowly crawling closer to us. I got ready to shoot myself, a deserved death in my opinion, before I remembered. 

Rainbow takes prisoners.

I'd hide and order my men to their deaths or capture, and then I'd surrender. I'd be disgraced by the Americans, but I didn't mind. My finger found its way up to a guards face as I barked out cold orders to go recon and see if the Reds had made it. Eagle had already texted me of his capture, and that he had bit down on his Cyanide. It wouldn't kill him though, as it was an empty pod. I played Mozart in my ears as I sat down calmly in a barricaded office we had found. 

We had no way of escape, as we were on the second floor and there were Rainbow operatives covering the window, as proven by the corpse that lie next to me. A bullet had passed through his head. His wallet had fallen off of his person, and my hands eventually found its way to it. Tearing open the wallet, I saw a photo of the man and his wife, yet his wife had a strange problem, which forced her into a wheelchair. Feeling sympathy for the man, I decided I'd open up his bank account and put it his next five paychecks. I noted a small "I am sorry for your loss" to it, hoping it could at least comfort her.

The sounds of gunfire silenced for a moment, and the sound of Russian yelling was heard outside the door. My hands found their way up above my shoulders at a 90-degree angle, showing my surrender. I could hear a crackling from outside, and then I heard it grow louder, signaling that a fire had broken out. I stayed in my relaxed composure, knowing I would survive as Rainbow would not kill a surrendering hostile. The door was blasted open as men ran in, barking Russian. Must've been their Spetznaz. I suddenly felt cold metal slam into my head, forcing me into a fetal postition. I heard four shots before it all went black.

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