MOTHER RUSSIA: The Kommies

Alexandr

"They called me Xander." he said as he was led to the camp "My friend Hogan said it sounded more 'German' like that."

"That's stupid. Germans call it 'Sasha' like us. They write it with s-c-h." nodded Boris "Not that it matters. No one will call you with your name here."

"What?"

"They call you the Yuchelevshi. Survivor. Or just хуй. That's the most common here."

Boris opened a large gate. The entrance to the Gulang.

"We will assign you to a squad of special rangers. Most of them were transfered from prisons or escaped German camps. They all have beautiful penalty records and are all extremely dangerous. Great guys."

Xander soon begun to adapt to the routine of the army-just like good old times. He was 'on hold' until the squad was formed.

"Chekov, I was told they would pull my splin out if I told you but I don't give a sh*t. B*tches can go on a f*ckinf dick all together." said Boris "We believe the Nazis put something into your blood that somehow f*cked up your system. When we found you-everyone else was in pieces- You kid came out without a scratch."

"Titaniic Hydrogen?"

"Don't sell me crab, kid. We tested everything. Whatever it was it's something that makes you what I like to call 'a supersoldier' and if the Nazis ever find out they'll make an army of f*cking 'supersoldiers' and send them to f*ck us up the arse. BUT- now that I found you, I will make it first."

In the meantime Chekov followed basic training with the Red Army. He remembered Boris's words daily trying to track one of thw possible canditates for the squad.

"Our first candidate was a former cop who lost his job because he shot two of his colleagues."

Kirill Timotevski blew the smoke out of the weed he smoked in a bar full of soldiers and whores. He looked at Xander in the eye from accross the room and lifted his vodka for him. He drank.

"He's not executed yet because due to war- they decided to use his rage for the sake of the country. His penalty changed. He's supposed to be watched and serve the Commandos in the southern front. Until I found him.".

"What's so special about him?"

Boris flashed back to the moment Kiril broke the handicuffs he was wearing and punched the judge in the face. He took five bullets before he falls.

"We removed them all. He could acctually walk within in a week or two."  he explained "Then it was Yuri Dimoff. Son of Timur Dimoff, the General Marshal of National Security. Yuri likes getting drunk and beat people up. He's in prison overnights once a week."

Yuri was beating up about a dozen larger soldiers from his company when his superiors stopped him with an anesthetic needle.

"He's uuh...kind of a dick. Don't talk to him about his father."

A blonder boy was working out with weighs at Goncharev's camp with a cigarettw in his mouth. Quite a contrast but no one commented at it.

"The next is from your town. We call him the 'b*stard'- because he is- but also because he speaks about 5 languages and is good at shooting targets. His name is Borisov. You might know him."

"Matveii Borisov."

"Yes."

"He's a friend of my brother Andreii."

"Your brother is 8 and he steals cables from the streets."

"He had a good teacher."

Matveii always had that cigarette in his mouth. When Xander saw him he was hiding behind bushes pulling up his pants.

"What are you doing?" Xander asked

"I'm fucking...or something. Or was."

"Something?"

And then a girl stood up trying to pull  down a shirt over her naked breasts. She looked at Xander and smiled nervously.

"Здравствуйте." she said (Zdravstvuyte)

"Hi." Xander greeted awkwardly.

Matvei winked at him as he passed over the bushes.
"Great horse, if you ask me." he said and left.

The girl fixed her brown hair with her fingers and introduced herself.
"Ludmilla Kontrateva." she shook his hand.

"Xander Chekov. Ochenshi Priyatno." he stared at her as she walked away.

Boris smoked a cigar. "Kontrateva is in the army. She's not running around for inspiration. You'll be lucky to find a sniper as good as she is."

"Interesting."

"You like her, kid?"

"No.".

"Let me give you an advice: Never f*ck a sharpshooter who says 'it's nice to meet you'."