Zemnaya Svoboda
TNPer
Former Vice President Boris Menshikov was a bitter man, very conscious of the decline of his political career after his loss to Morozova some years before. Now, however, he was hopeful. As he sat in the back of his darkened limousine, he smiled viciously. "There's no way Morozova will see this coming," he muttered to himself.
The Limousine slid to a halt in what would appear to be the middle of nowhere. The dark taiga loomed on either side of the road. Menshikov stepped out of the car, waved to the stolid driver, and strode into the forest. Soon, he walked across a small moss swamp (choosing his steps carefully) to a circle of brighter moss. There, he picked out a particularly dry bit of moss and sat down,
Boris Menshikov was not, by nature, a fearful man, but a glimmer of absolute terror flitted across his face before he calmed himself and began a very strange incantation....
"Bloody Sidhe," he thought.
The Limousine slid to a halt in what would appear to be the middle of nowhere. The dark taiga loomed on either side of the road. Menshikov stepped out of the car, waved to the stolid driver, and strode into the forest. Soon, he walked across a small moss swamp (choosing his steps carefully) to a circle of brighter moss. There, he picked out a particularly dry bit of moss and sat down,
Boris Menshikov was not, by nature, a fearful man, but a glimmer of absolute terror flitted across his face before he calmed himself and began a very strange incantation....
"Bloody Sidhe," he thought.