Stepan watched Chernobog sit down, opposite of him, in the troop transport helicopter. The American looked like a man, with a battered scarred face that gave no clue to the inhuman rage that Stepan had seen devour the American. The Beast was up by the front of the transport helicopter, glaring at Stepan and Molitz with glowing purple eyes.
The rest of the Americans were sitting in the transport, watching at Sergeant Molitz shut the transport's door. It was a large cargo helicopter, normally able to transport nearly a hundred soldiers. The majority of the cargo-space was full of supplies bound for Outpost-38, and Stepan knew it was to cover the fact that the Soviet government was smuggling the Americans back to their side of the Iron Curtain.
"They making you stay at Fort Dumbass, Ivan?" Chernobog growled, his one green eye fixed on Stepan.
"Yes. Colonel Razin said that it would be for the best," Stepan answered.
Chernobog nodded slowly. "Makes sense. What happened is not something the Kremlin wants to explain."
Stepan snorted, looking away.
The Beast looked furious as she reached up and grabbed one of the cargo rings, refusing to sit down as the engines started and the rotors began picking up speed.
The flight was largely silent for the two hours. The Beast and the Amazon moved between the two patients laying on stretchers, the small woman who had been so fast and aggressive in hand to hand combat and the man who had gone down with a single blow to the right side of his chest. The man wasn't able to remain conscious for long, and the Beast had put him on oxygen and put in an IV before takeoff. The woman was unable to walk without assistance, her face swollen and bruised, one of her arms obviously broken.
Stepan turned from looking at the Beast patting the woman's hand, seeing Chernobog staring at him.
"You idiots ruined two of my troops, Ivan," he snarled, loud enough to be heard over the rotors. Stepan just nodded, looking up at the two stretcher bound Americans. "I should kill twenty of you assholes to teach the Kremlin a lesson not to fuck with us again."
"You already did," Sergeant Molitz said.
Chernobog's attention went back to the other man.
"I am the only member of my Spetsnaz platoon that will be able to remain in service to the State," Sergeant Molitz said. "And if Beast had not missed her blow by a few centimeters, I would have been killed too."
Chernobog snarled, the left side of his face twisting. His ruined eye was hidden by a patch but Stepan could still feel it staring at him. The Cowboy put his arm around Chernobog and pulled him close, shaking his head when the big blond man looked at him.
"There has been enough blood for now," Sergeant Molitz said, deliberately looking away from Chernobog.
"For now," Chernobog grunted.
The rest of the flight was silent until the helicopter landed. The door opened in the side and Chernobog stood up.
"Ell-Tee, Bomber, Nagle, help Cromwell and Stokes with the stretchers," Chernobog snapped, standing up. "Foster, go get the Meat-Wagon."
"Do you want our help?" Stepan asked as the Americans started moving.
"I'd rather suck cock in hell," Chernobog snarled.
Stepan just nodded, feeling tired. "I understand."
"Let's go, Ant. We've got a lot of Cold War Bullshit ahead of us," the Cowboy said.
Chernobog just nodded, a snarl frozen on his face as he watched the two stretchers being offloaded. He waited until the Americans had disembarked from the transport helicopter, following them into the early afternoon sunlight. Deadman was jogging toward the 1K Anti-Capitalist Zone, angling slightly to the north.
Major Vasilek was waiting at the bottom of the stairs extended from the helicopter.
"I hope you understand, this was not the doing of myself or my men," He said carefully to Chernobog.
"Yeah, well, one of your men took part. The goofy fuck right there was with you before that other pack of rat-fucking morons took over," Chernobog snarled. He waved at the two stretchers. "You broke the agreement. Gloves are off now."
"The GRU arrived, forced my man to assist them. I repeat, this is not our doing," The Major said, spreading his hands wide. "You understand how much power the GRU wields in my nation, do you not? They are like the CIA is to you and your men."
Chernobog nodded slowly, looking at Stepan and Molitz then at the stretchers.
"All right. We're even then. I ain't happy about it, but I'm willing to give you another chance," Chernobog said, turning away.
"Do you want my men to help you carry your wounded? It is a long way," The Major said.
"No."
The single word was flat, dead, and Chernobog turned and walked away.
Stepan and Molitz stood next to Major Vasilek, watching the Americans walk slowly across the distance separating Outpost-38 from Site-317. The Beast handed out cigarettes and everyone but the two Americans on stretchers took one.
"Your face is healing," the Major said softly.
"Still hurts," Stepan said, keeping his voice low.
"Chernobog went for your eyes. You got lucky," the Major said.
In the distance, Chernobog went down on one knee, struggling up and the Beast moving over to put his arm over her shoulder and help him walk.
"How have things been here since I left?" Stepan asked.
"We kept your things where they were," The Major said. "The Americans have been very paranoid. They've kept the perimeter of the One Kilometer Zone manned at all times by tanks and infantry. Hopefully, with Chernobog and his men being returned, things will slowly go back to normal."
Stepan nodded, accepting a cigarette from the Major and inhaling gratefully.
"Welcome home, Sergeant," The Major said, exhaling smoke into the early afternoon air.
"Thank you," Stepan said.
The Major turned to Sergeant Molitz. "Welcome to Outpost-38, comrade Sergeant."
"Thank you, Comrade Major," Sergeant Molitz said.
"Comrade Solokov will explain the rules out here to you, once we go inside," The Major said.
Sergeant Kuznetsov stepped up next to Stepan, grabbing his chin and turning his head so the short stocky NCO could look at Stepan's face.
"Chernobog gave you something to remind you of him, I see, comrade," The gruff mechanic said.
Stepan nodded.
Sergeant Kuznetsov grunted, letting go of Stepan's chin and looking at the Americans, who were halfway to the fence.
"I am glad to see them go," Sergeant Kuznetsov said. "I disliked the idea of some fool taking Chernobog into Mother Russia."
"I agree, comrade," Stepan said quietly.
"Let him return to his mountain and stay there," Major Vasilek said softly.
Stepan nodded.
"Let us go inside, comrades," The Major said, turning away. He dropped his cigarette onto the grass and crushed the butt with the heel of his boot.
Stepan followed the Major without looking back.
YOU ARE READING
Third Person - Complete
Historical FictionPFC James Roberts just wanted to serve his country, like his father and grandfather. He left his middle class life to join the military with the hope of making his family proud. Graduating top of his class in Basic Training, attending Advanced Indiv...
