Fields of Yamantau Chapter 2: The Ballad of Cain and Abel [Concluded]

Alyosha gripped the cold porcelain of the sink as he stared into the mirror, his body still trembling at the thought of what he had just done. He could still hear the rumble of the building starting to cave in. Even now in the silence of the small apartment, the noise was deafening in his ears. The screams, the explosion, that terrible cracking. What had he done? Who was he becoming? All this death and destruction, and for what? To satisfy the goals of a man he knew nothing about? Were all these lives truly worth his own, as well as Oxanna and Misha's? He searched his reflection for some sort of answer, desperately trying to validate what he was doing, what he had done. All he found was a man who had turned to murdering his own people for his own gains. He couldn't explain it, but a smile began to creep across his lips, as wide as the Kreszesk River. Even though the tears streamed down his face, he smiled. If Jacobs wanted a monster, he was going to give him one. He pushed off from the sink, and stormed out of the bathroom, breathing heavily as he looked around the room. He marched over to a toolbox sitting next to an old broken radio, and quietly picked through it, finding a file and a grease stained yellow box cutter.

He paused as he turned around, before padding over to the small cot where Oxanna still had Misha wrapped up in her arms, both of them still fast asleep. He cocked his head to the side, watching her. He promised this woman that he would keep her, and this innocent little boy safe, and he was going to do it by any means necessary, and it didn't matter who or what got in his way. He pushed a lock of fiery hair from her face, and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead before turning around again, and heading back into the bathroom, taking a sheet of plywood that leaned against the wall in the shower, and placing it against the door. His heart began to beat faster and faster as he laid out the file and the box cutter on the shelf next to the mirror, before digging through the first aid kit in the medicine cabinet for a needle, thread and disinfectant, placing them next to the tools. His smile still held as he gripped the porcelain once more, the tears had stopped, replaced by a rage in his eyes that seemed to come from the very depths of his soul. "Let's make a monster, Aly." he laughed to himself, taking the file in his hand.

Oxanna awoke sometime around sunset, her head still had a dull throbbing, and her fingers still ached, but it was bearable now. She looked down at Misha, who was still pulled in close to her, playing with her hair. She smiled sweetly at him, and gave him a tight hug before climbing over him to get out of the tiny cot. There seemed to be a strange stillness in the apartment. Vasyl sat at the desk, staring straight ahead, seemingly terrified at whoever was sitting in the high back chair facing the window smoking a cigarette. She shrugged, believing it to be Jacobs, or maybe Vivek, and proceeded to the bathroom. She looked over at the figure in the chair as she sat down on the toilet, watching him throw the cigarette out the window before lighting another one, and emitting a low groan of pain. She smiled, and figured it must have been Alyosha, likely still sore from the beating he had taken at the roadblock. She could hear the radio playing quietly, the news man talking about a series of bombings that had apparently happened in the morning while she slept. Kiroyev, Tagtaryev, Novisibraskaya, Spigodja, the list went on and on. Every single place, a bomb had been set off. The death toll for Kiroyev alone was almost a hundred, with even more injured. Her smile weakened, but all that mattered to her was that everyone in this room was safe. She reached for the toilet paper, but paused as she noticed a group of what looked like bloody fingerprints on the side of the vanity. She looked back over to Alyosha.

"Aly, is everything ok?" she called, her brow furrowed with concern. She saw his head turn slightly as he made a dismissive motion with his hand, weaving a trail of cigarette smoke through the air. His answer, or lack thereof didn't exactly fill her with confidence, but she chalked it up to him being tired, worn out by the events of the last few days. She finished up, and washed her hands, glancing over to see the blood spattered file and box cutter sitting on the shelf. She hesitantly took the cup from the shelf on the other side of the sink, and filled it with water, giving the glass an investigative sniff. It seemed good to drink. When she emerged, Misha was standing just off to the side, in front of Alyosha, who handed him a toy soldier, fully decked out in Predicean military attire. She smiled as Misha ran back towards the cot, a wide smile on his face as he giggled happily.

Oxanna strolled up to the window, and looked out over the market in full swing. "That was nice of you. It'll probably keep him occupied, at least for a while." she said sweetly, watching one of the vendors push a food cart down the street. "Yeah. Got it from the market this morning. Right after I blew up the Ministry of Internal Affairs." he replied, his voice sounding as if he had been kicked in the mouth. Oxanna froze as she looked out over the sea of canvas awnings, Alyosha's words stunning her. "Was it part of Jacobs' plan?" she inquired after a moment, her tone far more somber now.

"Yes." came the simple reply.

"Are we closer to getting away from here?" she choked.

"Yes, my dear."

"My dear." she repeated, somewhat taken aback. She knew Alyosha was attracted to her, but he had never said anything like that. She took a sip of the water, and turned to face him. As her eyes fell on him, the glass fell from her hand, and shattered on the floor. Her mouth opened and closed as she looked upon him, his face covered in splashes and cuts that had been badly sutured closed. They were wide, and deep, some down to the bone. She fell to her knees, and crawled over to him, her trembling hands rising towards his mangled face. He winced at first, moving away from her touch, before allowing her to run her hands over the stitches and cuts. "Who did this to you?" she wept, pushing his hood down to reveal a poorly shaved head, his scalp covered in more cuts and sutures. "I did." he admitted as he took her hands in his own. She could see that he had filed his teeth down to points as well. "Why?" she cried as she inched closer to him, her green eyes filled with tears as she examined the grim injuries he had inflicted on himself. He would not answer her, and simply looked away, out the window. "I promised to keep you safe, my sweet. I promised to keep our little boy safe. If Jacobs wants me to become a monster, then I will be. Inside and out." he stated calmly.

Oxanna shook her head, confused. He spoke as if they were lovers, and as if Misha was his own flesh and blood. She knew this was not him. "Aly, please! Aly.." she wept, trailing off until her mouth moved but no words came out. Alyosha rose from the chair, grunting in pain as he pushed past Oxanna. "Aly!" she screamed as he walked to the door. He paused as he reached for the knob and looked back at her. "I promised to keep you safe." he said coldly, before leaving the apartment.

Jacobs was still sitting in the office with Leonid Nared, the owner of the shop he had visited earlier, when Alyosha quietly pushed through the door. Nared was a Yihuddi gangster that ran the market district of Kiroyev, anything that happened there went through him. Nared looked at Alyosha stunned for a moment, the young man basically unrecognizable. "What the...fuck?" Nared croaked, staring at him slack jawed. Jacobs spun his chair around, adopting the same slack jawed expression. "Neither of you say a fucking word. You owe me answers now. Bombings in every major city and military center across southern Yamantau. Talking about destabilizing a regime. What your end goal? You want Svrtan dead? You want a new government to step in?" Alyosha growled, cutting off any possibility for comments about his appearance. Jacobs regained his composure and shook his head. "No, son. We just need someone more controllable in power. It doesn't matter how Svrtan goes, as long as he goes." Jacobs explained. "We figure, my partners and I, Mr. Nared included…" he continued, before Alyosha grabbed him by the tie, wrapping it around Jacobs' neck until he was choking him with it. Vanya quickly leveled the shotgun at Alyosha, with Nared looking on helplessly. Alyosha quickly produced a small folding knife and held it to Jacobs throat. "I die, he dies big man!" Alyosha threatened, wrenching the tie.

"Put it down! PUT IT DOWN!" Nared ordered, waving Vanya off.

Alyosha looked back and forth between the three men, and nodded. "Good. Now. Listen to me. I know what you're doing. The attacks increase, the government intensify the policing of the people, until the few rights they have left are entirely gone. Then you believe the people will revolt, yes?" Alyosha asked.

"Yes." Jacobs gurgled, still trying to pry the tie away from his throat.

"That's not going to work. You just created hundreds of pieces of propaganda, hundreds of reasons for the people to fight you. YOU. Not the government. You!" Alyosha shouted, finally releasing his grasp on the tie, leaving Jacobs gasping for air. "If you're going to turn the people against Svrtan, you need someone who will tell them the truth about what is happening."

Jacobs rubbed his neck, and looked at Alyosha with anticipation. Even with his dramatic gesture, Alyosha had gained his interest. "So what the fuck do you suggest?" he snapped.

"Graznei. Senya. Duva. All the places that Svrtan keeps the people that oppose him. Free them, and you have an army. Free them, and their truth is your weapon." Alyosha explained, banging the table with his fingers for emphasis.

Jacobs turned to face Nared, who seemed amazed by the idea. "Of course...why didn't we think of that?" Nared chuckled, shaking his head at the thought that he and his associates has been so stupid. Jacobs thought for a moment, before turning to Alyosha. "You think you can hit Senya?" he asked. Alyosha nodded and looked back to Nared. "I need 20 guys. Big guns. 8 vans. Body armour. Can you do that?" he asked, pointing at Nared. "Done." Jacobs answered for him. "Anything else?" Jacobs added. Alyosha smiled that terrible smile, flashing his pointed teeth. "I need a rocket launcher, and I need it tonight."

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The men in the van sat quietly, glancing over at the hackjob of a human being that sat near the doors checking his rifle. "What the fuck happened to your face?" one of them finally asked. Alyosha stopped, letting the bolt on the receiver of his rifle slam closed as he slowly turned his head. "Got into a knife fight." he beamed, the man who had asked the offending question reeling back at the site of his teeth. "W-with who? A bear?" another man asked. "Yeah, how'd you know?" Alyosha said jokingly, beginning to laugh. The rest of the men in the van laughed along nervously, before Alyosha adopted a serious expression. "Who said you could laugh?" he asked gravely, looking around, before he himself bursting into hysterical laughter. Nobody joined him this time. They sat quietly, half way in fear, half way in reverence of this mad man. The driver banged on the window that separated the cabin from the seating, signaling that they were a minute out.

Alyosha moved to crouch in front of the doors, and looked at the others. "Final check! Make sure your magazines are loaded! Zakhaev will take point with the Saka, the rest of you stay close to him. Team 2 will be right behind. Your target is the holding cells in the basement. If our Intel is good, there are upwards of 60 people being held here. Get them out, get them to the vans that will be waiting in the processing bay, the drivers will take them to designated safehouses, outside of Kiroyev."

The vans rolled to a stop outside the front doors of Senya, the two guards posted outside cautiously approaching with their weapons half way ready. "Hit it." Alyosha said quietly into his radio. The side door of the van carrying Team 2 slid open, with two men opening fire on the guards, riddling them with holes. As soon as the guards had hit the ground, Alyosha kicked open the doors, and let his rifle fall around his hips as he shouldered the anti-tank rocket that Nared had secured. "Fire out!" he shouted with glee, pressing down on the firing mechanism. The rocket blew the doors off the hinges, creating a massive hole where the doors and part of the wall once stood. "If it wears a YPA uniform or a PK badge, it dies!" Alyosha ordered, throwing the spent launcher to the side, and bringing his weapon up to his shoulder. The heavy footfalls of the attackers echoed through the street as they marched through the smoke, and into the building, Zakhaev taking the lead with his LMG, just as planned. "Team 1! Upstairs! Sweep and clear! Team 2! Get to the basement! Get those people to the bays!" Alyosha shouted, jogging up the stairs behind Zakhaev.

Everyone did as they were told. Alyosha and Team 1 moved through the forest floor of the building, sweeping through like a plague. Anyone who attempted to stop them was gunned down like a dog. "Try not to kill the civilians! If you can, round them up, and take them to basement!" Alyosha decreed, stepping over the body of a young woman in a YPA uniform as he fired his rifle wildly through the large windows that looked into the next room at a group of PK officers. He seemed to be enjoying himself amidst the chaos, gunning down his former comrades, letting himself slip deeper into his new persona. He felt himself slip away with every kick of the rifle. The drumming of the LMG fire became music to him. He let out a maniacal laugh, throwing his head back, attracting worries looks from his compatriots.

It took a manner of minutes to reach the third floor, hunting down the last of the resistance. The sirens could already be heard in the distance, rushing to stop a slaughter that was already over. Alyosha looked around at their handiwork with a sick sense of pride, a smile still plastered across his mangled lips. "Team 2. Status report." he chuckled into the radio, holding it out in front of him. It was silent for a moment, before crackling to life. "Basement clear. 51 including the civilians taken from the offices, sir. Getting them into the vans now."

Alyosha grinned and breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Good! Get them going, and meet us back at the main entrance. Jacobs has arranged for an extra special exit for us." he replied, motioning for the remainder of his team to follow him back down. "Sir! Here!" one of the soldiers called, pointing his rifle at someone under a nearby desk. Alyosha turned around, and approached the soldier with a look of curiosity. He could see a pair of black heels and stocking clad legs sticking out from under the desk, accompanied by a pair of well manicured hands. He seized the cowering woman by the wrist, and dragged her from her hiding spot as she shrieked in terror. "Hey! HEY! SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he shouted, grabbing her by the shoulders. She fell silent, trembling under his grasp. He reached up, and pushed the mess of blonde hair from her mascara streaked face, seemingly examining her. "What's...hey, look at me! What's your name?!" he demanded, grabbing her by the cheeks, forcing her to look at him. "M-Mila Karadic." she stammered through her tears. Alyosha recognized the name, but couldn't quite remember from where, before it hit him. "Ahhh, Ms. Karadic. Of course. How very rude of me. I should know when I'm in the presence of Senya's director!" he growled, pushing her down to floor, drawing his pistol. "Mila, you have a very simple choice right now. I can kill you, like the parasite you are. Or..orrrr, I take you with me, and you help my friends and I expose everything that's happening within these walls. Very, very simple." he continued, pushing the barrel against her forehead. "I'll help! I'll help!" she cried out. "Good choice! Up!" Alyosha announced happily, grabbing Mila by the hand and pulling her up, pushing her into one of the existing soldiers. "Deal with that." he ordered, beaming at the man.

The special exit that Jacobs had prepared, were three military transport trucks, which sat waiting outside as the assault teams piled in. The trucks would blend right in as they passed through the city. Alyosha watched the still smouldering doorway of Senya fade out of site as they drove away, the sirens growing ever closer, but still not close enough to worry about. They'd be long gone before the first MP could even see the building. He watched as they finally rolled out of view of the site, still smiling. "You're a fucking psychopath." Zakhaev piped up, the still shaking Mila Karadic sandwiched between him and another man. Alyosha turned to him grinning ear to ear, "What's that?" he responded, acting as if he hadn't heard Zakhaev correctly. "I said, you're a fucking Psychopath, you...shark." Zakhaev repeated with a tone of disgust. Alyosha returned back to looking out from behind the canvas flap. "I like that, you know. Shark." Alyosha laughed. His laughter was the only thing that could be heard through the still night as they disappeared into the darkness.

"You'll have five minutes once the hijack starts, and 5 minutes only. We can't risk running the broadcast any longer, or it could be traced, understand?" Jacobs asked.

Alyosha nodded and took his place in front of the camera, pulling his hood up over his head, and turning on the voice changer.

"Is it working?" he asked in a deep, distorted voice.

Jacobs gave him a thumbs up, and joined a small group of people standing behind the camera. He held his hand up, counting down from 5 until the broadcast started. As soon as Alyosha saw him motion to begin, Alyosha stood as tall as he could, with his arms folded across his chest.

TVs across Yamantau flickered and crackled as the picture changed from the usual state sanctioned morning news to image of a hooded man standing in a dark room, the picture wavering.
Everyone stopped and stared.



"For the people of Yamantau, today is a glorious day. Today marks the dawning of your liberation. Today is the day I ask you to take back your lives!" Alyosha roared. His voice booming through the speakers of every TV set in the nation. "As you know, yesterday morning, targets across our once great nation were struck down. These monuments to the cruelty of the Svrtan regime, and his attack dogs were brought crumbling down! Yes, many others died who should not have, but that is a price we must pay for a free Yamantau!" he continued, shaking a clenched fist at the camera.

People began filming the broadcast on their phones, awe struck at his brazen display. Alyosha's voice also began flooding through the radio as the second stage of the hijack came online.

"Late last night, we struck again, at an institution of fear that has kept that people of Kiroyev in terror. Senya has fallen. Those who were locked away, LIBERATED!" he roared, raising both fists. "These poor souls were kept in crowded cells, starved, beaten, electrocuted, fingernails and teeth torn out! All in the name of Volodymyr Svrtan!" he continued, holding up a picture of a brutalized elderly man they had found dead in an interrogation room during the attack. "This...is your future. This...is how the government sees you!" Alyosha declared, tearing the photo in half. "No more!"

In some groups, they quietly nodded in agreement, in others, the gasps of horror drowned out the broadcast, while somewhere, a family wept for their grandfather, father, and brother.

"This is not over! I call on you now, to rise against your oppressors, and take back your lives! Take back what has been stolen from you, for thirty long years! The fate of this nation rests in the hands of every man, woman, and child who has been broken down by this abusive system, living in poverty and terror while Svrtan and his dogs dine as KINGS!"

The people not only heard his words, but felt them, deep in their hearts. The Svrtan regime had stolen everything from them. Their safety, their families, their independence.

Oxanna sat in the lonely apartment, listening to the radio as Alyosha spoke, clinging to Misha, scared for what would come. She wished she had never got in the car with Alyosha in Novisibraskaya, she wished she had never helped him kill Moroz. All she wanted was a normal life.

Grigori listened anxiously, glancing over at Szubrov, who was busy on the phone, trying to get the broadcast shut down as they paced the halls of St. Kryzeuk's Hospital. He could see the people there were inspired by the words of this mad man.

"If you stand, you stand with us. If you stand, we stand with you. Take back your cities, your homes, your streets, and stand with us, as brothers and sisters!" Alyosha declared dramatically. "And to Volodymyr Svrtan….we are coming for you." he finished, leaning in to expose his pointed teeth to the camera in a wide smile, before walking away. The broadcast was shut off soon after. Jacobs clapped dramatically as he walked towards Alyosha, who was pacing in the corner of the room. "We need to get everyone we freed last night kitted up. We hit Duva in three days." Alyosha blurted out before Jacobs could say anything. Jacobs looked at him dumbfounded, before cracking a smile. "I like your initiative son! What will you need?"

Alyosha handed Jacobs a list of supplies, weapons, and vehicles they would need. It was lengthy, and likely hard to procure, but he knew what he needed. Jacobs stopped as he hit the last item. "A tank? You need a tank?" he asked, flabbergasted. Alyosha nodded, and walked over to a map that hung on the wall, pointing to the location of Duva prison. "Ok, this, is Duva...THIS.." he dragged his finger a short distance to what looked like a small city "..is Graznei." Jacobs finished the sentence for him. "Right. It's a 30 minute drive, maybe a couple hours march through the swamps. We can lose any followers in the swamp, and hit Graznei too. We have an army by the end of the day." Alyosha stated blankly, as if this feat meant nothing. "You're going to hit Duva, then drive a tank through the swamp, and hit the most heavily guarded, heavily populated prison in all of Meterra?" Jacobs asked rhetorically, shaking his head. "No, I'm going to hit Duva, load whoever I can into the busses, get them to Graznei, start the assault while we wait for the others from Duva to arrive. You meet us between Duva and Graznei, and drop off the tank." Alyosha said incredulously, as if Jacobs didn't understand the plan. Jacobs squinted at him for a moment, as if trying to figure out if Alyosha was profoundly mentally handicapped or just insane. "I'll see what I can do." he finally answered, walking away, muttering about the tank.

Alyosha turned back around to the map on the wall, looking around at all the pictures he had pinned to it. Grigori's picture had a large red circle drawn around his face. Alyosha glared at it menacingly, his lips curling into a snarl. "You did this to me you motherfucker, and I'm going to kill you for it."

"Stack up." Kamarov said quietly, pointing to the door of the building across from the market. "Keep the civilians back!" he continued. The street had been shut down on either end, with another unit ready to enter from the back of the shabby two storey building. Grigori stood behind the door of his sedan, weapon drawn. Szubrov had seen fit to put him in charge of the task force responsible for finding the perpetrators of the attack on Senya, and they had traced the recent broadcast interruption to this building. The sergeant in charge, Kamarov, was ready to breach, he looked over to Grigori and nodded silently. Grigori returned the nod.

"GO!" Kamarov shouted into his radio, both teams hitting the doors in unison, storming the building. Grigori couldn't wait, he pulled the shotgun from the holder between the seats and rushed in after the teams, his shiny new PK Inspector's badge bouncing off his tactical vest as he ran, the shotgun ready, with a slug ready to go in his pump hand. He caught up with Kamarov's team as they ascended the stairs, looking over the railing to see team two heading down to the basement. The team stacked up again next to the only door in the hall.

"This is the Yamantau People's Army! Open the door!" Kamarov shouted as he signaled for one soldier to get a flashbang ready while the other got in position with the ram. Unexpectedly, the door swung open, and a little boy stood crying in the door way.

"Misha!" Grigori cried, pushing past the team and embracing the little boy. "What are you doing here? What..what..I..I dont..understand." he stammered, pushing the hair out of Misha's eyes. He looked up, and saw Oxanna in the corner, being held hostage by the interrogator, Vivek. He pushed the barrel of his pistol hard against her temple with a menacing grimace. Grigori slowly pushed Misha towards one of the waiting soldiers, and shouldered the shotgun again.

"Go easy now. Go easy." Grigori said calmly, side stepping across the room. "Fuck you! I'll kill this bitch before you kill me!" Vivek threatened, pointing the pistol at Grigori, the team of soldiers slowly entering the room behind the PK Inspector.
"Go easy man. You're outnumbered, there's no other way out. Just put the gun down, Vivek. There's no need for anyone to get hurt here." Grigori assured him, lowering his weapon. "Let's talk."

"I'm not telling you a fucking thing." Vivek snarled. An exchange of gun fire could be heard down the stairs in the basement, followed by soldiers shouting about a target being down. "Who was down there?" Grigori asked, pointing out the door. Vivek paused for a moment, before clearing his throat. "Vasyl, my partner." he admitted before his expression turned to pure rage, and he began to wave the gun around, cursing at Grigori and the other men. Grigori noticed something as Vivek went on his incomprehensible tirade.

He didnt have the magazine in his pistol. He looked over, and sure enough, the magazine sat on the desk amidst the clutter of radio equipment and tools. He looked back at Vivek with a furrowed brow as he picked up the magazine and showed it him. "So, if I have this..best case scenario for you, is that you have one in the chamber already. You can kill the girl, I blow your legs off, and you get dragged out of here, treated, and get confined to Graznei for the short remainder of your life. That's option one. Option 2, well, you let the girl go, you put that gun in your mouth, and you blow your fucking brains out. Or, option 3. You put it down, you come with me, you tell me everything you know, and maybe we make a deal. You could also shoot me, and die in a vicious blaze of gunfire. Choice is yours at this point." Grigori said calmly, tossing the magazine aside. "Make your move, Vivek."

Vivek smiled, the tears starting to well up in his eyes. "There's only one problem with option one. There wont be a Graznei by the end of the day." he said, his voice cracking as he pushed Oxanna away toward Grigori. Grigori grabbed her and passed her off to Kamarov. "Put her and the boy in my car, Sergeant." he said quietly before turning his attention back to the now pacing Vivek.

"Listen man. Just put it down. Put the gun down, kick it over here, and just give up." Grigori ordered. Vivek stood by the window, looking down at the swarm of soldiers and PK officers waiting with their guns drawn down in the street. "No...I dont think so." Vivek said, defeated. Grigori leveled the shotgun at him and pushed back the pump, sending the red buckshot shell sailing through the air, and ramming the blue slug into the receiver. He watched as Vivek brought the gun up and placed it under his chin, but hesitate for a moment. Grigori fired. Vivek dropped to the floor, screaming in agony clutching the stump where his hand used to be. Grigori rushed over and pointed the weapon directly in Vivek's face. "WELCOME TO OPTION 5!" he shouted. "Now tell me what you know before I blow something else off!" he ordered, jamming the barrel of the shotgun into Vivek's crotch. "What the fuck!?" Vivek screamed through the pain. "Tell me!" Grigori shouted again, pushing harder. "The Shark! The Shark! The Shark is going to hit it!" Vivek cried, the pain in his testicles compounding with the pain in his arm. He started to become quite calm as the shock set in, the pool of blood from the stump growing quickly.

"Who is the Shark?" Grigori growled, moving the shotgun up to Vivek's stomach. Vivek laughed, the tears running down his cheeks mixing with the blood spatter. "Come close." he said weakly. Grigori humoured him and leaned in, Vivek quickly grabbed him with his remaining hand and pulled himself up to Grigori. "Your fucking mother." Vivek laughed, before letting himself fall back against the floor. Grigori shook his head and walked away. "Kill him." Grigori ordered one of the soldiers, who gladly took to the task, walking over and executing Vivek with one shot, to the right side of his forehead. "Asshole." Grigori muttered as he returned to the desk near the door, looking for anything he could find that might point him in the right direction.

The desk was littered with radio parts and tool, but he managed to find some IDs, almost none had pictures, mostly just names. Likely of people who were long since dead, he turned and looked at the printer they had been using to make the IDs, there was one still in there. He opened the lid and grabbed the card, his heart began to race. Alyosha's cold, dead stare peered back at him from the card next to the name Piotr Taran. "You're alive…" he gasped. Kamarov entered the room with an expression of worry. "Sir, come to the basement when you're done here. We found some video and some other evidence."

Grigori tucked the ID in his pocket and nodded. He took a few more moments to look around the room, finding more traces of Alyosha throughout the apartment. Maybe his friend was alright after all. Satisfied, he made his way downstairs, and into the basement. He stopped as he entered the room, which was already filled with PK Agents, all stepping over and around a hulking body covered with a white plastic sheet. "Over here." Kamarov piped up from behind an array of computers hooked up to a camera. Grigori circled around and stood behind Kamarov and a petite red headed PK Agent named Irena Kroto, who was already busy sifting through the numerous files on the computer. "Lot of porn." Grigori joked. Irena looked back and smiled "I've seen worse. Sergeant Kamarov wanted me to show you this video." she said, still smiling. She pulled up a video file and hit play. It was the broadcast. "Yeah, I know, all of Yamantau has seen this." Grigori said, somewhat confused. "Wait." Kamarov replied, his eyes on the screen. The video kept going after the broadcast ended, and the lights came back on. Grigori's jaw dropped for a moment, before he caught himself as Jacobs entered the frame, slowly clapping as he approached the man in the hood. His heart almost stopped as the hooded man revealed his face. "You motherfucker!" Grigori exclaimed, startling everyone in the room.

"Agent Kroto! I want all those files on a separate hard drive. Have it delivered to my apartment by tonight." Grigori order. "Y-yes sir!" Irena replied. "What the hell?" Kamarov asked as Grigori turned on his heel and headed for the door. "Get me the god damn files!" Grigori barked back, before making his way out. He rushed back to his sedan, where Misha and Oxanna were waiting, terrified. He dropped the car into gear and tore away from the scene. "What is Alyosha doing?" Grigori asked Oxanna. "I don't know, he isn't Alyosha anymore." Oxanna said wearily. "He's someone...something, entirely else now. He and Jacobs." she continued as a radio call cut her off. "Graznei has fallen, I repeat, Grazeni has fallen, ladies and gentlemen." the voice said, a hint of amusement in the voice. "That's him, isn't it? On the radio." Grigori remarked. Oxanna nodded as she sat back. "Yeah. You're about to have a war on your hands, Grigori." she said quietly, looking out the window. "Where are you taking us? Jail?" she asked, almost hopeful. "Jail..what? No. You're coming with me. I have an apartment just down from the Premier's residence, I can let you stay there for a while, and..fuck..I dont know..maybe get you out of Yamantau. You and Misha don't deserve to keep living in this hell hole we call a country." Grigori answered.

Reports started to flood in about the attacks on Duva and Graznei. A million men and women kept prisoner by the Yamanta government were now armed, and ready to unleash their hate of the regime on the nation. Grigori pulled into the parking garage and made his way to his assigned space. He got out, and opened the door for Oxanna, helping her out before he picked up Misha and carried him along. "Let's get inside."

The apartment that Szubrov had assigned Grigori was quite nice, with a modern design. A stark contrast to the world outside. "Do you mind if I…" Oxanna asked, pointing to the bathroom. "Towels are in the closet in there." Grigori said as he laid Misha on the couch. Oxanna smiled gently and made her way in, closing the door. Grigori suddenly realized that she and Misha would need clean clothes and some food as soon as possible. He dug in his pocket for his phone, and called Kroto.

"Uh, hey Irena, listen, when you bring that hard drive, I need you to bring some women's clothes, and some stuff for a kid about 8, but like, a 5 year old sized 8….no I don't know what size of women's clothes...I dont know, fuck it just bring whatever. And uh, can you also stop somewhere and grab enough food for 4 people? Yeah...yeah...well I figure you might want to help me go through those files...ok...perfect. See you soon."

He hung up, and placed the phone on the counter, moving quietly past Misha so as not to wake him, and headed for his room. He went into his closet and found a hoodie and sweatpants that might fit Oxanna and folded them into a neat pile. He quietly opened the bathroom door enough to put the clothes on the counter and told her they were there before making his way back to the living room area. He looked put the window towards the Premier's residence and sighed deeply. "They're coming for all of us because of you, you old bastard." he said quietly. Oxanna emerged a short time later, wearing the gray PK insignia hoodie and sweatpants, with her hair up in a towel. "Better?" Grigori asked. She nodded, and sat down at the island in the kitchen, Grigori joining her. They looked at each other across the island for a moment, before Grigori broke the silence. "What happened?" Grigori asked, his shoulders dropping as he allowed himself to drop the steely front he had been putting up. "He..he just lost his mind Grigori. He didn't want any part of it, and then he sorta just...snapped. He carved his face up, filled his teeth, started acting as if we were lovers and Misha was his son..I don't know." she replied, resting her face in her hands. Grigori pulled a glass ashtray across the counter and grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the carton he kept in the drawer. He put the pack down in front of Oxanna after taking one and lighting it. "You smoke in this nice apartment?" Oxanna asked, happily taking a cigarette and letting Grigori light it. "I don't pay for the cleaning, I don't care." he responded. "But, what do you mean he went crazy?"

Oxanna took a long drag, and let the smoke creep out of her lips as she stared at the counter. "He was the one that blew up the building downtown. Him and some guy named Vasya, Jacobs ordered it, Lenid Nared sourced it, Alyosha carried it out. It killed him, on the inside, you know." she said, taking another drag. "So I woke up, and he's sitting there, staring out the window, just being strange, and then I see he's all cut up. He goes out, murders everyone at Senya, brings a bunch of people back to the apartment, moves them out last night, they hit Duva and Graznei today. They'll probably hit Spigodja and Novisibraskaya next. Work their way back here in a few days, a couple weeks at most." she finished, knocking the ash from her cigarette on the edge of the ashtray.

Grigori raised an eyebrow, she wasn't the dumb party bimbo he had assumed she was, the way she spoke now. "You're different, now. More serious, less..I don't know..innocent seeming. The country yokel act sorta just dropped there, didn't it?" he poked. "Yeah, well, I don't exactly feel up to playing to dumb anymore. If you really want to know, no, I'm not some country yokel. I was discharged from my mandatory service maybe a month ago. Been trying to get back into normal life since then." she explained, taking another cigarette. "That would make you, what? A corporal?" Grigori asked, leaning against the counter behind him. She inhaled the the smoke, and nodded, adding in a gentle "mhmm." Grigori nodded "I knew there was something that didn't add up about you." He said, pointing at her. "Yeah well, you're shit at pretending to be a soldier, Chernenkov." she smiled slyly. "Yeah, yeah." he beamed as he heard the knock on the door. "That's probably Kroto with food and clothes." he said. "Oh my god, I could kill for some chow and clean underwear." Oxanna remarked, again letting the smoke creep put of her lungs.

Grigori answered the door with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, a look of amusement across his face. "I see you've found my secret base." he joked. Irena pushed her hair behind her ear and smiled. "Yes, very secret." she laughed as Grigori ushered her into the apartment. "Takw your coat off, stay a while." he said, retaking his place across from Oxanna at the island. Irena stopped and looked at the unlikely pair sitting there. "Uh, hello, ma'am, my name is Agent Irena Kroto with the…" she began, before Grigori waved her off. "No need for professionalism tonight, Irena. This is Corporal Oxanna Dyshevik, and the little guy is her sorta kind brother, Misha." Grigori explained. "Oxanna was with Bulgarin and I when Jacobs decided we were indebted to him." he continued, loosening his tie before pulling it off and tossing it on the counter. "Shouldn't she be in holding?" Irena asked nervously. "As the lead Inspector on this, I made an executive decision that she is more valuable as a collaborator than having her toes clipped off in some prison." Grigori remarked. Irena laughed "Fair enough. Hope everyone is hungry. Syrixian ok?" she asked, holding up the large brown take out bags. "Ohhhh, where did you manage to get Syrixian?" Oxanna beamed, rushing towards Irena. "You know how it goes, girl has her secrets." Irena smiled, happily handing over the bag.

Soon enough, there was a large spread of food across the island. Oxanna gently woke Misha, and gave him the pajamas that Irena had brought for him, and told him to get changed and then come eat. He did as he was told, and joined the group around the island shortly after. They all ate in silence busy stuffing their mouths with something other than beets and black bread for a change. The meal was followed by several hours of drinking coffee and smoking, Oxanna putting Misha to bed sometime around 8, doing the same for herself a short time later.

"Alright, down to business." Grigori said, slapping his palm off the counter top and rising to retrieve his laptop. Irena went and grabbed the hard drive from her bag, and plugged it in to Grigori's computer, the two of them huddled together around the screen as they poured through the evidence. Pre recorded videos of Alyosha announcing the fall of Graznei, the seige of Tagtaryev, the death of Svrtan. Documents and lists of names relating back to Jacobs. "Why would they leave all of this? It makes no sense." Irena said, rising from her seat to stretch. "Jacobs wanted us to find it. There was a clear 5 minute window during the broadcast where the signal was easily traceable too. Jacobs doesn't do anything by accident, everything is for a reason." Grigori replied. Irena paused, and turned around, a look of realization on her face. "He wants us to stop Bulgarin. He's becoming a liability to Jacobs, so Jacobs wants him gone!" she exclaimed. "You might be right. The YPA can handle Bulgarin though, I'm more concerned about Jacobs. Who's he working for? Where does he keep coming up with millions of dollars and military grade equipment? Nared is a big player, but not that big. Fuck this, I need a drink." he sighed.

"Oh! I uh..brought a bottle of wine with dinner. I forgot about it!" Irena suddenly remarked, rushing over to her bag again, pulling out a bottle of Predicean wine. Grigori smiled, shaking his head. "Where...where did you get this? Seriously?" he asked, looking over the bottle. "Girl has her secrets." she smirked. Grigori opened the bottle and sat back down, Irena joining him as he poured two large glasses. It was close to 1 in the morning now, and the two were still digging. "Why? Why is there so much porn on here?" Grigori marvelled. "Better question, who keeps their porn on a computer full of terror attack plans? Like, who takes a break to snap one off while they're procuring explosives?" she laughed. "Wait, wait. Most of it is some weird file type...open one up." Grigori remarked. Irena hesitated, but opened one of the files. What came up was not porn, but schematics. Schematics for a car bomb. "So you're telling me, that all of these are actually oddly disguised plans?" Irena wondered aloud. "Apparently." Grigori said, leaning in towards the screen, putting his hand on Irena's waist without thinking. "Uh, sir." she said with smile. Grigori quickly pulled his hand back and apologized.

The light of day began to fill the apartment before the two were finished. "Oh my god. I should get going to the office." Irena suddenly stated. "Take a day off. Executive order." Grigori said, rubbing his eyes, fighting the wine inspired sleep as Oxanna made her way down the hall into the kitchen. "You two been at this all night?" she inquired. "Uh, yeah. Lot of shit on there." Grigori replied. "Like I said though, Irena, take a day off. Our lives are about to get very stressful."

Irena nodded and made her way to the door, Grigori following behind her. "Thanks for all your help tonight, try to get some sleep." he said. "I will. I'll try, at least." she answered, stopping for a minute to look at him. "What?" Grigori asked, raising an eyebrow. Irena smiled and motioned for him to come closer. He leaned in to listen, somewhat jokingly. "Now would be a good time to put your hand back on my waist." she whispered, before planting a solid kiss on Grigori, who was taken aback, but did as he was told nonetheless. She broke away, and exited the apartment with a great big smile as Grigori closed the door. Oxanna stood awestruck with her coffee in her hand, staring at Grigori. "What the hell was that?" Oxanna finally exclaimed. "Dude, I have no idea. I'm not going to say I didn't like it, but I have no idea!" Grigori shot back, utterly bewildered at what had just happened. "Well, look at you go, you big stud." Oxanna laughed as she punched Grigori in the arm. "Ow, god, leave me alone you friggin valkyrie." he smiled back, taking his place in front of the computer again. Oxanna slid a cup of coffee in front of him as he lit a cigarette, and promptly ashed it in the coffee cup. He stared down at his mistake for a second and shrugged, drinking the coffee anyways. "Miss Irena Kroto..what a woman." he muttered. "Heard that." Oxanna laughed. "Shut up and help me find a war criminal." Grigori smiled.

12 hours earlier

Alyosha stretched and yawned as he approached the gates of Duva. His face hidden behind the ballistic mask he had painted to resemble the shark that often adorned the nose of aircraft. His rifle bounced off his hips as he casually strolled down the laneway, his small army behind him. He looked around at the guards lining the wall, their weapons trained on him.

He stopped, and lifted the mask just high enough to take a couple drags from a cigarette, before pulling it back down, flicking the cigarette towards the gate.

"Gentlemen! My friends and I would be very, very happy if you would make this easy, and simply open the gates! Your alternative, is that we murder you all, and then use your IDs to find where you live, and slaughter your families! Choice is yours!" he called, a casual laugh accompanying his final sentence.

"Lay down your weapons!" one of the guards shouted back. A short silence filled the air as Alyosha pushed the gravel around beneath his feet before he looked back up at the guard. "No?" he replied with an exasperated shrug. "You have three seconds to lay down your arms!" the guard shouted. Every man on the wall tensed up,getting ready to annihilate the group. There couldn't be more than forty men and women standing in the laneway, it would be quick.

"Ok. Ok! Fine! Everyone, just lay on down." He commanded, slowly getting down on his knees, raising his hands in the air. A few minutes passed before a squad of guards emerged from the gates, one holding a fistful of zip ties, the others with their weapons pointed at the group. The squad began to slow down as a low rumble in the distance seemed to grow louder, accompanied by pounding drums, and screeching guitar solos. "Incoming!" one of the men on the wall cried, as a fast moving tank crested the hill, the music now blaring over the loud speakers attached to the armoured monster. The soldier a few feet in front of Alyosha barely had time to emit a terrified "What the fuck?!" as he and his squad mates were shredded by the 50 calibre machine gun that adorned the top of the turret.

Chaos.

Just as Alyosha had planned. The group scattered into the ditch on either side of the road as the steel beast raced towards the gate, sending a shell into the wall as it barreled through the gate, slamming through with a sickening screech of steel and loud bang. The section of wall crumbled, sending the guards on top of it toppling down, burying some in the rubble, and trapping others. The group charged, the music still blaring from the speakers on the tank, the lyrics screaming a message of death and destruction.

The group charged through the destroyed section of wall, firing at anything in a YPA uniform. They could hear the prisoners cheering from their cells already, urging them onward, screaming for their freedom. Duva was never a priority for the Yamanta government, and as such, it was sorely unprepared for an event such as this. The guards scattered, terrified as the gunner from the tank fired wildly at the fleeing guards, who desperately tried to escape to the seeming safety of the prison interior. The operator sent another shell onto the main doors of the prison building, sending debris and bodies flying. "I want these men free! Now!" Alyosha shouted as he strolled casually through the piles of rubble and corpses in the courtyard, more of his supposed soldiers pouring through the gates and destroyed section of wall. Far more men than had initially appeared. A force made of Jacobs' men, Nared's thugs, and the prisoners from Senya, maybe three hundred in total. "Push!" Alyosha ordered the tank driver. The driver gave the affirmative over the radio and wheeled around, pointing at the entrance to L Block, a housing unit meant for the criminally insane, and blew the doors off the hinges. Alyosha took a crew of twelve men and entered the block. The guards inside were already running to the safety of the control room for the block, a box of bulletproof glass near the end of the block on the second floor. "Sorry! We decided to let ourselves in!" Alyosha screamed as he gunned down the fleeing men, having no issue shooting them in the back. He whistled, and directed half of his men to go left, and half to go right up the stairs as he strolled down the center. The howls and laughs of the disturbed inmates filled the air as Alyosha walked, bringing a smile to his face. He motioned for them to raise their voices louder, basking in their adoration. Alyosha's men had reached the control room already, where 2 guards had holed up, desperately pushing filing cabinets and desks against the door. Alyosha jogged up the stairs, until he stood right in front of the large window of the cell block control room.

"Boys...open the cells...pretty please? With a potato on top?" he asked, before looking down at the slot in the window meant for passing paperwork and supplies through. He looked back up at the terrified men, the younger of the two shaking his head as he aimed his weapon at Alyosha. "OPEN THEM!" Alyosha shouted, not asking this time. His sudden outburst scared the men, the one with his weapon aimed at the window panicked, and emptied the magazine into the bullet proof glass. Alyosha didn't even flinch. He pulled his mask off, revealing his brutalized face, and pressed his forehead against the cool glass. "Seriously?" He asked sternly, glaring at the men inside. "Open the gates before I have my boys go outside, get some fuel, and BURN YOU ALIVE!" he screamed, jamming his index finger against the glass. "Fuck you!" the older guard shouted. "No you!" Alyosha immediately shouted back childishly.

Alyosha left the men in the room, surrounded by his disciples. He went outside, and grabbed two fuel cans from the backside of the tank, giving them both a shake. Hearing the fluid inside slush against the metal container, he was satisfied that this would be enough. He stopped at one of the cell doors on the way back in, asking one of the howling inmates inside where the janitorial closet was. The wild eyed woman pointed at a greenish door halfway down the block. He nodded, and made a kissing face at the woman. She blushed as she smiled a delirious smile, watching Alyosha walk away. He strolled over to the closet, and pried the door open, quickly grabbing a simple dustpan. "Yeah...should be enough of an angle." he chattered to himself. He tucked the dustpan under his arm and took up the fuel cans once more.

He stood in the window once more, glaring at the men, and dropped everything unceremoniously on the floor. "Last chance." he threatened. The men didn't move. Alyosha shrugged and sighed deeply. "Ok then. Your cremation." he said casually. He jammed the dustpan into the slot in the window, making sure it was snug, before beginning to pour the fuel into the pan, watching it cascade on the desk, then onto the floor. The men inside shouting their objections, pleading for their lives. "Just open the fucking doors then! God…." Alyosha shouted over them as he began pouring the second can into the dustpan. The older guard rushed forward, and started hitting all the switches he could, the symphony of sliding steel doors playing a wretched song. "Ohohooo, someone came to their senses! Good man! Unfortunately, you have pissed me off severely!" Alyosha bellowed. The guard stared back at him blankly, the reality of his situation fully setting in. Alyosha motioned for one his men to come over, and asked for his lighter. "I'll get you a new one, ok?" he said calmly, flipping the lighter open, and watching the flame jump from the wick. He reefed the dustpan out of the slot, and pushed the lighter through.

The flames jumped high as the fuel ignited, and the fire raced across the floor. The screams from inside the room were drowned out by the joyous cries of the prisoners that were now roaming the cell block. Alyosha looked back at them, leaning on the rail as they all looked up at him, their cheers and hollers filling his heart with pure joy as he stood there, wreathed in the flames behind him. He could see other inmates out in the courtyard already, armed with the weapons that Jacobs had apparently already delivered. "Go outside! Get geared up!" Alyosha ordered his new compatriots. They happily complied.

Alyosha emerged from the cell block into the early morning light. Jacobs stood behind the tank, handing out tactical vests and weapons. "Good thing you got us the tank early! Made this a lot easier!" Alyosha shouted over the wailing emergency siren. "Yeah! You sure you have enough guys to hit Graznei now though!?" Jacobs shouted back, handing off a gear bag to a large, stoic looking woman covered in tattoos. "Yyyyeah, I think so! Be pretty cool if we had some heavier firepower for the initial assault though!" Alyosha stated, biting his lip anxiously. Jacobs shook his head and made a dismissive hand gesture as he handed out yet another gear bag to a smaller built red haired man, "I have it handled!" Jacobs remarked. Alyosha raised a quizzical eyebrow at the red haired man that was happily putting on his tactical vest, and checking over his new rifle. He raised a hand to Jacobs, as if to say "Hold that thought." as he approached the man. "Willy!" Alyosha shouted at the man, who quickly turned and smiled, and met Alyosha with a big hug. "Al, fook man, where ya been? Haven' see ye in, fook, what? Twenny years?" the man shouted happily.

Alyosha smiled back, letting the man back up. "Willy! I thought your parents left before the borders closed! What happened?!" Alyosha asked, still beaming. "Ehhh, sorta, we got detained by the fookin YPA, an' they said our passports were nay good nuhmore. We ended up oot in Spigodja, Da was pissed. Came here for work, ended up fookin trapped in this shethole. I got caught runnin' coke in Tagtaryev aboot, shet, maybeh 5 year ago. Really fooked up my plan to get oot o' here." Willy explained as he checked his rifle. "But, fook, am I glad to see ye again, lad. You got fookin ug-leh though, pal." he joked. Both me laughed heartily before Alyosha turned away "Stick close! I'll catch up with you, my friend!" Alyosha shouted to him. Willy gave him a thumbs up and walked out of the gates. Alyosha returned to Jacobs, who was confused, but decided not to ask any questions. "What were you saying? Something about not worrying about it?" Alyosha asked.

"Oh, yeah! My guy was gracious enough to send about ten artillery pieces to the scrapyard last night, a shipment that was abruptly lost, as well as some ammunition that was horribly past its lifespan!" Jacobs grinned. Alyosha nodded approvingly. "Yeah, that should do!" he laughed. "I'm gonna start heading for Graznei! Meet us there!" Alyosha shouted as he backed away, running out the gate. "S Nami Bog!" Jacobs shouted to him as he jogged away. "S Nami Bog!" Alyosha shouted back, as he tried to catch up with Willy.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

"Mad Willy" William Skaggs. He and Alyosha grew up on the same street as kids, before Yamantau fell under Svrtan. Their circumstances may have been almost polar opposite, but they got along better than most. "Did ye ever catch up with Tomasz, or Ivjan, or any o' them?" Willy inquired as he and Alyosha marched down the road towards Graznei. Alyosha hesitated for moment before he answered. "Last I heard, Ivjan is working for Svrtan now, bodyguard or something, likes to bang Svrtan's wife." he laughed, Willy letting out a guttural chuckle as he looked over. "Andri, he's dead, Ilyana, she's up in Gorodna working for the Ministry of Commerce, Igni, he's dead, 8 years ago now." he continued. "And Tomasz?" Willy asked. Alyosha's smile left his lips. "Dead. A few days ago actually. My fault. Well, sorta my fault, sorta Jacobs' fault. Jacobs is the guy handing out gear back at Duva." he explained. Willy nodded solemnly. "Tomasz was a hard bastard, never seen a man throw hands like that." he reminisced. "Yeah, didn't die the way he deserved." Alyosha commented. "So, that Jacobs fella. He's Predicean, isn't he? The way he rolls certain letters o' certain words, sounds Predicean anyways." Willy remarked. "Uh, no idea. Been trying to figure that out actually." Alyosha admitted. "No, I'm tellin' ye, he's Predicean." Willy replied.

The tank had caught up with the marching columns a short time later, the marching prisoners parting so that it could pass. "Let's catch a ride." Alyosha told Willy. "Driver, hold up." Alyosha said into his radio, the vehicle slowly rolling to a stop. Zakhaev and a few of Nared's men were already riding on the tank. Alyosha and Willy climbed up, before the tank started moving again. It was quiet out here on the steppe. The light dusting of snow on the fields against the backdrop of the mountains in the distance made for a gorgeous sight. A sight many of those behind the tank hadn't seen for many years. The goliath walls of Graznei came into sight on the horizon. "My god, them walls must be right massive." Willy gasped. "Higher than necessary, and twice as thick." Alyosha replied. "Well...how far awee are we now? From that fortress?" Willy asked. Alyosha could only guess. "Maybe 15 minutes."

"Fefteen minutes? And it already looks that fookin big?" Willy said incredulously. "Well, I think we might have a harder time breachin' the wall o' that monster than we thought." he continued. Alyosha shook his head. "Just wait." he grinned. Willy laughed and shook his head. "Ah, shet, this oughta be good." he chuckled.

The tank trundled along for a while longer before coming to a stop. Alyosha looked around, before raising an eyebrow and opening the hatch next to him. "Why are we stopped?" he asked the driver. "Jacobs said to wait here until the shelling starts." the driver replied, lighting a cigarette. "Ah, ok. Sorry for the interruption." Alyosha said, lowering the hatch, and rising to his feet, standing atop the turret, facing the columns of men behind him.

"Today, you are given your freedom, but….it comes with a small price tag! More of our brothers and sisters are being held, there, inside the prison city of Graznei!" he shouted, pointing at the imposing structure ahead of them. "Almost a million of our people are kept under lock and key there! Working on the prison farms, foundries, and factories! Many of which do not deserve their sentence! Today! We topple this symbol of Svrtan's cruelty and malice!" he cried. The men and women behind him raised their weapons, cheering and shouting, ready to fight. "Prepare yourselves! Have something to eat! Smoke if you have them! We advance soon!" Alyosha ordered.

More and more prisoners from Duva showed up as the minutes passed into hours. Jacobs himself arrived sometime around noon, riding shotgun in a pick up truck taken from Duva, the Yamanta Corrections Authority crest on the door spattered in blood and dust. "How you getting on?" Jacobs asked as he rounded the front of the truck. "Not bad, having our last meal and a round of drink and smoke before this shitshow starts." Alyosha remarked. "Good. Good." Jacobs replied as the driver of the truck lugged a black, heavy duty plastic trunk out of the bed of the pick up with help from one of the prisoners. "William! Got something you might be interested in!" Jacobs shouted. "It's, WILLY." Willy said as he hopped down from his perch next to the tank's cannon. "Right, Willy. I took the liberty of looking into your file at Duva. Seems you have a deep love of wanton destruction, so here." Jacobs remarked, unamused as he pushed the trunk towards Willy with his foot. Willy glared at Jacobs as he opened the trunk. "I don't fookin like ye, Jacobs. But I love this." he grinned.

Alyosha sat atop the tank as he tightened the straps of his mask, and checked his magazine. "Willy, you good?!" he shouted. "Aye, the cod piece is a little snug though." Willy remarked as he rounded the corner of the tank. Fully decked out in the heaviest body armor Alyosha had ever seen, brandishing a large, belt fed MG, with more ammunition belts strapped across his body. "Well...that's...horrifying." Alyosha commented. "Its fookin beautiful. Shut it." Willy snapped back, slowly climbing up on the front of the tank.

Alyosha clutched his radio, taking a moment to enjoy the silence. He could already see the guards of Graznei scouting them out. "Your man inside cur the comms already, yeah?" Alyosha asked Jacobs. Jacobs nodded as he tightened up the straps on his vest. "Last night. He fried the electrical for it, and it takes like a week to get anything fixed out here." Jacobs assured him. Without further warning, Alyosha gave the fire order to the artillery teams. The echoes of the guns broke the still silence, and a few seconds later, the impact of the shells against the walls and beyond shook the earth beneath their feet. "FOR YAMANTAU!" Alyosha shouted as the tank began its approach. The newly minted army charged around the tank, rushing towards the walls, which, though imposing, crumbled under the pressure the of the artillery barrage, their poor construction coming back to haunt the keepers of this fortress. The shelling continued as they neared. The main gate the first thing to fall.

The troops poured over the rubble like fire ants on an encroaching threat, swarming over everything, with still more rushing in. The guards inside were putting up a good fight, holding the invaders off on the east side, but falling to their charge on the west. The cries of dying men filled the air already, from both sides. "Keep firing!" Alyosha ordered the artillery batteries. "Fire until nothing is left!"

They did as ordered, continuing to shell the walls, and the main buildings. The inmates of Graznei had already begun to join the fray on the inside. The guards were outnumbered 100 to 1 in a prison the size of a small city, where the inmates knew every hiding spot, every nook and cranny. Alyosha and Willy left their perch on the roaring tank as it careened towards the gates, slowly creating the rubble pile that was once the west wall. "Forward, comrades!" Alyosha cried as he advanced with Willy into the smoke and haze of the battle in the courtyard. Music again began to blare from the loudspeakers of the tank, shouting anthems of unity, and destroying a corrupt system. "Main building!" Alyosha ordered, Mad Willy Skaggs leading the charge.

Willy entered the smoke and fire filled corridor of the main administration building, which led directly to the main cell blocks. Willy pushed through the building with ease, most of it's occupants had already retreated deeper into the complex, making his job far easier.

The fighting in the main blocks was ferocious, some of the inmates who had been in the common area had driven the small security detail into one of the makeshift classrooms near the back of Block 7, and the guards in the room had so far done an incredible job holding off the inmates armed with improvised weapons, and makeshift knives. One of these guards was Draka Balaran, a young Bhalka man, who had started his duty at Graznei a few weeks prior. Now, he was fighting for his life against the people he had kept captive. He and his comrades had done their best to fortify the room with what they had, using the frame of the double doors as somewhat of a machine gun nest. He let loose a burst of bullets as a crazed inmate lunged at him through the opening between the desks that were stacked on top of each other. He watched as his attacker fell limp, and wiped the blood spatter off his face. "Is there any word on what's happening outside?" he shouted to the Block Marshall, who was desperately trying to raise someone, anyone, on the radio. "What the fuck do you think?!" the Block Marshall snapped back. Draka shook his head, and watched as the inmates circled around the doors, but began slowly moving away. The only sound Draka could hear was the slow approach of heavy footsteps over broken glass and concrete. Almost rhythmic in their approach. He let out a low groan and a curse as a large man with a fiery red beard and hair emerged from the smoke, watching it wrap around his body and dissipate as he walked, a massive MG held at his hip, the strap across his broad shoulders, and the belt of ammunition held in his other hand. The armoured gunner stood in the center of the room, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The man took a long drag of the cigarette, and exhaled the smoke sharply through his nose, resembling some sort of dragon against the vel of smoke and flames behind him. The prisoners seemed to form a wall behind the gunner as he opened fire, concentrating on the doors. The flurry of bullets tore through the walls, and the makeshift barricade. Draka dove out of the way, laying as flat as he could on the floor as the bullets tore the room apart around him. When it finally stopped, he looked around, and saw nothing but dead men, and scraps of paper floating gently through the air, and those now dreaded footsteps approaching again.

With a heavy kick, Willy pushed the desks far enough away from the door to let the prisoners enter the room. "Bring out any survivors, lads." Willy ordered. He looked over to see Alyosha pushing towards the central wings, and gave him a thumbs up. Alyosha returned the gesture, and kept moving. Willy could still hear the shelling outside as the inmates dragged a terrified Balkha man out of the room, and forced him to his knees in front of Willy. "What's yer name, lad?" Willy asked sternly, leveling the barrel of the MG right between Draka's eyes. "Draka Balaran." he replied, staring down the still smoking barrel of the weapon. "Well, Draka Balaran. T'day, is yer lucky day. I dunnae feel much like blowing yer brains oot all over the ground, especially if they get all over ma new clothes, ya see? Ye, are gonna help me and ma new pals here get into the main control room. Can ye do that fer me?" Willy asked. Draka nodded.

"You will need the Block Marshall's keys. They are on his belt, in the room." Draka babbled. Willy nodded to one of the inmates, who ran into the room, and returned shortly with a hefty ring of keys. "Good boy. Let's move!" Willy ordered, pulling Draka to his feet, and shoving him forward.

The assault lasted well into the afternoon, the inmates inflicting horrors best left unsaid upon their former keepers. Willy had successfully liberated the central facility, and Alyosha had managed to chase the few remaining guards into the rear most sections of the complex. A million men and women, state property mere hours before, were now free, armed, and angry. The rage of a forgotten past unleashed. Alyosha had commanded the artillery batteries to fire on the last target building. It wasn't worth his time to go in and clear it out, he figured it would be easier to bury the occupants alive. Draka, still captive to Willy, stood and watched as his surviving comrades were dragged out of their hiding places, and dispatched of. "This one was a good boy. What about him?" Willy asked, pointing to Draka. Alyosha wheeled around, and slowly swaggered towards the young man. "What tribe are you from?" Alyosha asked, examining the long braids of thick black hair that Draka had kept hidden under his helmet. "Wotonorro." Draka responded. Alyosha paused, examining the man. "Wotonorro. Svrtan had you driven from the steppe, did he not? Forced your people to assimilate?" Alyosha asked, knowing the answer. "You love your people?"

"Yes." Draka answered. "I do." he said, unsure of the intention of this line of questioning. "What if I told you your people could be back on their land? What would you say." Alyosha inquired, leaning on the wall with both hands, trapping Draka. "I'd say you're delusional." Draka replied. Alyosha pushed off the wall, spinning back around. "I'm not delusional my friend. Look. Look at what I've accomplished, in one day. One day." he exclaimed, motioning to the broken landscape. "Imagine what I could do for your people in one day."

"You could send them to their deaths. You're a monster." Draka replied. The smile faded from Alyosha's face. "I am not a monster. I'm a visionary." he growled, approaching the young man again. Willy backed away, somewhat nervously. "Im going t' go check on the boys oot front." Willy said shakily. Alyosha nodded, and waved him off. As he walked away, Willy could hear the muffled sounds of a struggle, a scream, and dull popping noise, and then silence, before Alyosha caught up with him. "The kid…" Willy began. "Don't worry about it." Alyosha cut him off. Willy straightened up, and cleared his throat. "What..what now?" he stammered. Alyosha glanced at him, before grabbing him by the top of the plate on his vest. "If you're going to be squeamish, then go. If you ride with me, your faith, and resolve must be absolute. Understand?" Alyosha menaced. Willy pushed Alyosha's hand off, and shook his head. "I understand, lad. But there's nae honour in murderin' young men that have already lost everything. Understand?" Willy spat, continuing on his way. "Novisibraskaya. That's where we're going. There, then across the bay to Spigodja. We're cutting off the port. Cutting off Svrtan from the things he needs." Alyosha finally said. Willy stopped, and nodded. "I'll ride with ye. But don't be killin' boys that nae need killin' lad. Not in front of me." Willy responded curtly, before being on his way.

Alyosha looked out over the army that was massed on the plains in front of the ruins of Graznei. They were hungry for conflict, ready for war. He leaned on the rail of the tower, watching the activity below. "How long to Novisibraskaya?" Jacobs asked, appearing in the doorway of the tower. "A couple hours march. Maybe 4 if we're slow. Itll be ours in a day, maybe 2 tops." Alyosha answered, not taking his gaze off his army. "This was risky, and unnecessary. If you had stuck to my plan…" Jacobs began. "If I had stuck to your plan, nothing would get done." Alyosha snapped, spinning around, grabbing Jacobs by the face, hooking his thumbs into Jacobs mouth, and pulling on his cheeks. "If I had followed what YOU wanted, I'd be busy killing children, and butchering women." he growled, suddenly slamming Jacobs head off the hard concrete wall, Jacobs emitting a groan of pain as Alyosha let him fall onto the catwalk. He began to crawl away, the blood streaming through his silver hair from the gash on the back of his head. "IF I FOLLOWED YOUR PLAN, I'D BE PLAYING YOUR BULLSHIT SPY GAMES UNTIL I DIED!" Alyosha screamed as he stomped on Jacobs' back. Jacobs cried out in pain, trying to scramble away. "Where you going? Huh? HUH? No way out but down!" Alyosha bellowed as he grabbed Jacobs and pulled him up, pushing him against the railing. "You Predicean fuck!" Alyosha shouted. Jacobs blinked slowly, before spitting blood in Alyosha's face. Alyosha grabbed him by the throat, and delivered several heavy blows, feeling the bones in Jacobs' face give way beneath his fists. "Before I throw you off this fucking tower, tell me, who are you? Huh? Who are you?" Alyosha demanded as he repeatedly struck Jacobs. "Go ask Szubrov!" Jacobs screamed. Alyosha stood stunned, the Commandant? "You're a fucking liar." Alyosha growled. "Believe what you want. Paolo Vera never lies." Jacobs smiled, his teeth shattered, and his mouth filled with blood. Alyosha laughed, before he pushed Jacobs over the rail, watching him fall. It seemed almost like slow motion, watching the architect of all his pain, and the deaths of so many plummet to the fate he so sorely deserved. The shock in Jacobs eyes was something Alyosha would cherish for the rest of his life, however long that may be. He chuckled as he watched Jacobs' lifeless corpse bounce on impact, before he lay there, perfectly still. Alyosha spit over the railing, hoping it would hit the body. He pulled the radio from his belt, and tuned it to the emergency frequency, that would broadcast on all military and police frequencies. "Ladies and gentlemen, Graznei has fallen." he laughed, before throwing the radio over the rail.

He rejoined Willy at the head of the new columns, and gave him a firm nod. "Onward! To Novisibraskaya!" he ordered.

And so they marched, off to war for a nation that abandoned them, to restore the nation they once knew.

Grigori looked at the papers strewn across his desk, a labyrinth of information that all led nowhere. He rubbed his tired eyes and reached for his cup of cold coffee, holding it under his chin for a moment before slamming back the contents. Cold, bitter, all the sugar had settled at the bottom forming a crystalline ring around the bottom. He scrunched up his face in disgust, before setting it down with a satisfying clunk. His gaze shifted to the door as a young man entered his office clutching a white envelope, a nervous stagger to his gait.

"Uh, Inspector Chernenkov, sir. Lead Inspector Prizny said to give you these. Photographs and statements from Duva and Graznei. He said you're the one in charge of the investigation." The young man sputtered. Grigori silently held out his hand to receive the envelope, slowly blinking. The young man handed the envelope over and stepped back, standing at attention. Grigori looked back and forth between the envelope and the young man before him as he unwound the string keeping the envelope shut, the contents making it so that the envelope could barely close.

"Ok!" Grigori suddenly exclaimed, dropping the envelope on the desk, startling the young man. "Either sit down, or go away. I'm guessing you're assisting myself and Agent Kroto as a Junior Agent, or you're an intern that knows nothing of procedure. Which is it?" Grigori asked with a slight hint of exasperation. The young man looked at Grigori dumbfounded. "Junior Agent, sir. Basili Marza. Lead Inspector Prizny has assigned me to your investigation." Marza declared. Grigori nodded slowly and pointed to a chair in front of the desk. Marza took a seat, maintaining his rigid composure. "Drop your shoulders, unclench your jaw, take a deep breath, call me Grigori." Grigori rattled off quickly as he picked up the phone and dialed a quick number. "Kroto, meet me and Junior Agent...Marza, in my office." Grigori said, pointing at the young man as he said his name as if to confirm it, before hanging up. "Bas, if I can call you that. I need you to understand that with this investigation, we're dealing with a major terrorist threat. Someone who can appear and disappear like a childhood monster. Someone who can twist men into monsters. Understand?" Grigori asked. Bas nodded, and leaned forward, looking at the plethora of papers scattered across the desk.

"Don't bother with any of that. It's all useless." Grigori told him, leaning back in his chair and digging out a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his coat that hung from the back of his chair. He offered one to Marza, who politely refused. Grigori shrugged, lit a smoke, and tossed the pack on the desk. "I'm assuming you've been briefed on the investigation?" Grigori asked, Marza again simply nodding. "Good. Good." Grigori stated.

Irena entered the office a short while later as Grigori was cleaning the papers off of his desk. "Glad you could join us. Hear anything about Bulgarin?" Grigori greeted her. "Yes, sir. He began his assault on Novisibraskaya last night. The YPA had almost no time to respond. Szubrov is talking about going down there himself to deal with it." Irena said casually, picking up the pack of cigarettes from the desk and taking one. "Hmm. Hopefully he can stop Bulgarin, take him alive if possible." Grigori croaked as he rubbed his eyes. "I've heard Commandant Szubrov isn't a fan of survivors." Marza chimed in, both Irena and Grigori turning to look at him. "Szubrov isn't that bad." Grigori retorted. "Alright, Junior Agent Marza, start putting these up." Irena interjected, handing Marza the attack of photographs from the envelope, directing him to the large cork board on the wall. Marza went about his task quickly, hanging them neatly in rows across the board. The photographs told a tale of death and destruction, growing more grisly as he pinned them up. Grigori and Irena began examining the documents and statements.

"List of...confirmed casualties cross referenced with prison records here. Lot of unidentifiable bodies, looks like." Irena said matter of factly as she thumbed through the pages. "Yeah. Lot of dangerous folks back out there now too." Grigori replied. He couldn't help but replay the night before last every time he looked at Irena as she scoured the papers for any leads on Jacobs. "Wow, this guy is fucked up." Marza again chimed in, flashing a photograph of a man that looked to have fallen from a great height, his body broken and almost deflated seeming. Grigori squinted at the photograph and motioned for Marza to bring it closer. He snatched the photo from the young man, and began to nod slowly, sucking his teeth before tossing the photo across the desk onto the floor. "Fuck. Sake." he groaned, covering his face. Irena and Marza glanced back and forth at each other confusedly. "That's John Jacobs." Grigori finally said. "What?!" Irena exclaimed, letting the papers in her hand fall into her lap. "That's Jacobs. Bulgarin must have turned on him, just like Jacobs thought he would." Grigori sighed. "Well, where does that leave us?" Marza interjected. "Means we need Bulgarin." Irena stated, looking at the floor, as Grigori nodded in agreement.

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As daylight broke through the windows of the plane, Grigori shook Irena awake, and did the same to Marza. "We're in Spigodja. Grab your shit." he urged them, he himself already grabbing his gear from the seats towards the cockpit. "We're landing at YPA Command Center Czerna, lot of high ranking officials here right now, watching this situation, so mind yourselves." Grigori continued. The pair slowly started moving, grabbing their gear bags, and getting ready to disembark from the aircraft.

The plane landed shortly at YPACC Czerna, the trio being greeted by Corporal Yasara Semenka, who had been tasked with escorting them to their attachment, a special operations unit slated to enter the now raging war zone across the bay, and retrieve Alyosha Bulgarin under cover of nightfall.

"Consider Bulgarin as the most dangerous man you have ever met." Grigori announced as he paced in front of the SpecOps teams. "He is delusional, paranoid, and mentally unhinged. We have no idea what he is truly capable of. He is wanted, ALIVE." he continued, adding very emphasis. "His men are spread thin, attempting to overrun Novisibraskaya, and secure their positions, leaving his camp, this area.." he said, as he circled a familiar apartment block, "supposedly lightly guarded." he finished. "He has been sighted in the company of this man, William James Skaggs. Skaggs is also a person of interest in the death of John Jacobs." Irena took over. "Skaggs will likely put up a fight if captured, so be prepared for that. This operation has been sanctioned by Commandant Ygor Szubrov to use any means necessary in securing the target. The Commandant would have liked to be here himself, but had important business to attend to in Kiroyev. You have all received your briefing in regards to what we may encounter once in the city, are there any other questions?" she finished. The room was silent other than the shuffle of feet. "Good. Get some rest. We leave by boat at zero dark." Grigori stated. Irena turned to Grigori as the men filed out of the tent, and stared at him for a moment. "Can I trust you not to kill Bulgarin on sight?" Irena suddenly asked. "No." Grigori admitted. Irena nodded knowingly, before looking around to ensure Marza wasnt looking. "Please, Grigori. Just be careful." she whispered, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Grigori nodded and put his arm around her. Unlike Irena, Geigoei didnt care if Marza knew. "Get some rest. We have a long night ahead of us." he said quietly.

Grigori looked around as the small boats glided across the water of Cremyan Bay, the silhouettes of his compatriots barely visible in the pale moonlight. Their faces obscured by balaclavas and the black netting that was draped over their helmets, they approached the dockyard of Novisibraskaya as vengeful wraiths. The city had been pummeled by Bulgarin's artillery, the YPA quickly overrun, shit down or burned alive in their posts. The team could see a guard tower that overlooked the bay at YPAFOB Kuril was still ablaze, shining like a beacon in the night.

The small boats finally landed on the shore, the team.quickly pulling them ashore and disembarking. "Matar, Ridma. You stay with the boats. Anyone gets too close, put them down." Grigori ordered two of the men, who nodded silently and took up a position just off to the side of the boats, hiding in the shadows of the nearby dock. "Everyone else, rally up." Grigori whispered, summoning the team to him. He brought up a map of the area on a small tablet he produced from his pocket as they gathered round.

"This is our infil route, we'll be moving deep behind their lines while Fire Team Zira moves on the target location from the south, we rendezvous with them here, 1 block from the target building. We move on Bulgarin after that. The YPA 3rd and 12th divisions will be pushing in from the northeast to cover our infil. Any questions?" he asked. One of the soldiers, nicknamed Braga took the tablet. "How do we know Bulgarin is in the building?" he asked, zooming in on the satellite image. "We have intel that indicates he and his apparent mew officers have occupied the building. The building has significance to him as well." Geigoei replied, taking back the tablet and tucking it away. Braga nodded and rose to his feet. "Suppressors on, two by two, rules of engagement do not apply. I emphasize, DO NOT apply." Grigori finished quietly. The group did as they were told, and began moving out just as Grgori had ordered.

The streets were oddly quiet except for the crackling of burning wood and the occasional tumble of concrete and brick as the decimated buildings crumbled. The odd gunshot would sound in the distance from time to time, but none close enough to worry about. The civilians that hadn't fled the district ducked and hid as they watched the 16 heavily armed soldiers move down the streets with increasing nonchalance. "I don't get it. I thought this city was supposed to be overrun with Bulgarin's soldiers." Irena stated. Grigori furrowed his brow and let out a nervous "Yeah." before signaling the group to get into cover along the street. "This is Fire Team Grimansk to Fire Team Zira, reporting negative contacts so far. Please provide SitRep." he said into his radio. A few seconds later, Specialist Vorkiar reported back. "Fire Team Zira to Grimansk, at target building. Negative contact all the way in. Trying to raise Divisions 3 and 12 now." Vorkiar stated, his voice a mixture of confusion and anxiety. The radio suddenly crackled to life again. "This is Division 3 to all channels. Negative contact, I repeat, negative contact. Sir, what the hell is going on?" a soldier asked. "I don't know. Keep your head on a swivel, Commander. Push into the city." Grigori answered. "Affirmative. God be with you." the soldier replied. "Everyone, move on target building, double time!" Grigori shouted. The group broke into a run, moving quickly through the oddly empty streets. Something caught Grigori's eye in the 3rd floor window of a building at the T intersection ahead, it was the man who had led him out of the Bureau of Internal Affairs, standing in the window, a rifle hanging across his back. The man raised a silent finger to his lips as Grigori ran. He looked back up, and the man was gone. "You're fucking losing it, Grigori." he said to himself. "What?" Irena asked as they ran. "Nothing! Just keep moving!" he barked. Irena seemed taken aback at the anger in his voice, but did as she was told.

Braga slid to a stop and shouldered his rifle, with all intent on sending a hail of bullets down the street before breathing a heavy sigh of relief at the sight of Fire Team Zira. "Fire Team Grimansk to Divisions 3 and 12. Linked up with Zira. SitRep?" Grigori asked, scanning the windows of the building for his mystery man. "Sir, we are still reporting negative contact. We are approximately 3 kilometers from your position. There's no one but some civvies. They refuse to speak with us though." the commander of Division 3 reported. "See if you can find a talker. Moving on target building." Grigori barked back. "Rally up!" Grigori shouted. Both fire teams gathered around, waiting for their orders. "This building is 8 stories, 24 apartments on each floor, with a large central commons area. I believe Bulgarin is likely in unit 822, this is where he first met John Jacobs. Judging by the state of the city as it stands, we have no idea what to expect when we get inside. Stay sharp, watch the walkways. Watch your fire inside. He could be using civvies as human shields." Grigori explained, gesturing towards the building. "Sir, what about the reports that they have a tank?" Bas asked suddenly. Grigori blinked slowly at him. "They would have sent it at us by now." he stated blankly. Bas looked down, embarrassed to have even said anything. "Let's move." Grigori ordered.

The fire teams stacked up at the main doors to the apartment complex, every man taking one last moment to collect themselves, and brace for whatever was inside. "Go." Braga ordered the point man, who wedged a metal shim against the lock and quickly backed away as Braga swung the sledge hammer he had been ready with. The glass in the door shattered violently as the plate pushed the lock back. Braga held the door open, ushering the rest of the team through. Grigori took point as they rushed through the hallways, Irena and Bas close behind him. "Courtyard, stairways on the east side!" he shouted as he slammed through the door, making it halfway in before stopping dead in his tracks. A fiery haired man on a makeshift barricade stood behind a mounted MG that was pointed straight at the door. The walkways were lined with men and women brandishing all manner of weaponry. "Stop right there, lad!" the fiery haired man called. The rest of the team adopted a back to back stance, their weapons sweeping the walkways. Grigori kept his weapon trained on the fiery haired man he now recognized from the briefing as William Skaggs. "Willy Skaggs!" he shouted, still pointing his weapon at the armoured behemoth behind the MG. "Aye. Grigori Andrij Chernenkov?" Willy shouted back. "Yes! How did you…" he began, before Willy raised a gauntlet clad hand, calling for silence. "Alyosha. He said you'd come for 'im. Said he wants to see ye. Also said ye likely would nae go alone. Pick 3 men to go with ye. Ye will nae be harmed." Willy barked. "And no guns, lad." he continued. Grigori lowered his weapon, letting it hang around his hip. "If I say no?" Grigori asked. Willy stared at him as if he had asked the dumbest question he had ever heard, before motioning to the people standing shoulder to shoulder on the walkways. "Death." Willy stated coldly. "Don't." Braga whispered to Grigori. Grigori looked back over his shoulder, then back to Willy, who was now leaning on the MG before taking a deep breath, and tossing his rifle across the floor, followed by his sidearm and his knife. "Irena, Bas, Braga." Grigori muttered, the three chosen to accompany him nervously following his lead, before raising their hands. "Put yer fookin hands down. You know where he is." Willy spat at them, pointing to the staircase. Grigori slowly lowered his hands and nodded firmly. Keeping his gaze fixed on Willy as he led his compatriots up the stairs.

"No sudden moves. You fuck up, we all die." Grigori quietly told his companions, not that they needed the reminder. 28 lives hung in the balance downstairs, surrounded by Alyosha's men. "I thought there were supposed to be almost a million of them…" Braga hissed. "I know." Grigori snapped back, feeling the angry eyes of the freed convicts on the group. The door of 822 was already open, waiting for their arrival. Grigori couldn't help but feel the same sense of impending doom he had felt the last time he walked through this door. "Close the door behind you." Alyosha called from the kitchen, Braga doing as he was told as he entered. Grigori looked down at a reddish brown stain on the carpet in front of him, assuming this was the spot that Jacobs had killed Piotr. He didn't want to imagine how Piotr had suffered before his death. "Come, old friend. Sit with me." Alyosha called again. Grigori couldn't quite comprehend who he was looking at as he rounded the corner. The brutalized face of his former friend smiling back at him through a wreath of cigarette smoke in the dim light of the dining room. "What's the matter, friend? Not happy to see me alive and well?" Alyosha mocked him as Grigori pulled up a seat at the table, the other three doing the same. "Where is everyone, Aly?" Grigori asked calmly, sitting back in his chair. "They're busy. Off to free the nation." Alyosha replied smugly, his pointed teeth gleaming as he turned his attention Irena. He reached over and pushed her hair behind her ear, running his finger gently along her neck as she tried not to recoil in disgust. "Pretty little thing you have here, Grigori. Bet she's wild in bed, huh?" he smiled, staring at Grigori. "Don't touch her. Why did you let us in here?" Grigori snapped, clenching his fists. Alyosha slowly moved his hand away from Irena, the smile on his face slowly fading. His face blank, and his mouth hanging open, showing off his sharpened teeth before he burst into hysterical laughter. "WHAT THE FUCK IS SO FUNNY!?" Braga suddenly exclaimed, rising to his feet. Alyosha sprang up, and grabbed Braga by the back of the neck, slamming a large knife into Braga's throat. Braga weakly clawed at Alyosha's hands as the blood gurgled up, and out of his lips, falling onto the table in a stream, before the shock in his eyes faded away, just as he did. The other three at the table recoiled in horror as Alyosha gently guided Braga down to the floor with a quiet "Shhhh. Shhhhh. It's all over now. It's all over."

Alyosha stood over Braga, inspecting his handiwork before tossing the bloodied knife on top of the now still corpse. "What the FUCK?!" Grigori shouted, staring wide eyed at Alyosha, who had retaken his place at the table. "Sit down. Sit….DOWN!" Alyosha ordered, grabbing Irena by the arm and forcing her back down into her seat. "Sit." he instructed Grigori, as if he was a dog. "Sit down or I cut her fucking throat, and take her from you, like you took Oxanna from me." Alyosha threatened, gripping Irena's arm a little harder. Grigori glanced at her, seeing the fear in her eyes, and slowly sat back down. "Sit down, Bas." Grigori said quietly. "Good. Good. That's good listening." Alyosha sighed, releasing his grip on Irena. He leaned on the table staring directly at Alyosha for a moment, before his arm shot out across the table, grabbing the pack of cigarettes next to the ashtray, startling Bas. "Awww, jumpy little guy." Alyosha laughed as he lit his cigarette. "Aly. What do you want? You must want something. Otherwise, you'd have had us killed when we came in." Grigori hissed, drawing the madman's attention back to him. Alyosha began nodding slowly. "Yeah, yeah. You're right. I want to see Oxanna." he replied with a shrug. "I want to see Misha too. The plan is already in motion, and it doesn't need me alive to proceed. I'll go with you, and I'll tell you everything. All I ask, is that you take me to see my love." he continued, leaning forward. Grigori thought for moment. It made no sense, but if he wanted to stop the killing, he would have to do what this monster said. "Division 3 to Fire Teams Zira and Grimansk. We have the target building surrounded. Orders?" Grigori's radio broke the tense silence. Alyosha stared at him across the table as he unclasped his hands and sucked his teeth, as if telling Grigori to make the call. Grigori knew that if he ordered the divisions to attack, everyone inside would die, including him. He would never know where Alyosha had sent his people, and the cycle of violence would continue. If he ordered them to retreat, he would be allowing dangerous convicts to escape.

"Commander, withdraw from the city. The situation is under control." Grigori finally answered. "Uh..understood, sir." the commander replied. "I know you're up to something, you fucking snake." Grigori hissed at Alyosha, who smiled as he dramatically looked around the room. "If anyone can't be trusted, it's you. How long did I call you my friend? How long did you lie to me, Grigori? I was disposable to you in the grand scheme of things, wasn't I?" Alyosha asked, the smile fading away as he sat back and stared down at the table. Grigori finally saw the human side of Alyosha shine through for a moment. "You know they'll hang you." Grigori stated coldly, ignoring the prior comment. Alyosha nodded as he looked down. "Yeah, I knew there was only one end to this when I threw Jacobs, Pietro, whatever the fuck his name was, off the tower at Graznei. Guessing you found his piss drenched corpse already." he stated, refocusing on Grigori. "Yes. We did." Irena interrupted. Alyosha glared at her angrily "Was I fucking talking to you, bitch? No. I wasn't. So sit back and shut the fuck up before I decide you're going to be another casualty." he barked, blowing a puff of smoke in her face just to add a little more disrespect. Grigori shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He wanted nothing more than to splatter Alyosha's brains across the wall, even if it meant he was dead as soon as he left the apartment. "Yes. He was found at Graznei. That's why we came for you. You know everything he knew. Almost everything, anyways. You can stop all this." Grigori shot, trying to draw Alyosha's attention back to him.

Alyosha rose to his feet and began rounding the table, stepping over Braga's body on the way. He stopped behind Bas, and quickly slammed his hand down on the young man's shoulder, making him jump out of his seat. Alyosha looked down and laughed at the growing wet spot on Bas' pants. "You pissed yourself." Alyosha laughed, pointing at the wet mark. "Shut the fuck up!" Bas shouted, trying to cover it up. Alyosha rushed towards him, ready to harm the young man before Grigori jumped up and placed himself between the two. He stood tow to toe with Alyosha, pushing his forehead against his target's. "Don't touch him. I'll beat you to death and not feel a god damn thing." Grigori menaced, staring into Alyosha's eyes. Alyosha let his shoulders drop as he embraced Grigori for a moment before he backed away, and turned around. "Let's get this over with." Alyosha said quietly, waiting for Grigori to cuff him. Grigori produced a thick, black plastic zip tie and secured Alyosha's hands before hooking him under the arm and leading him towards the door.

The fire teams were still standing back to back, waiting for someone to make a move as the group descended the stairs, Grigori pushing Alyosha forward. "Everyone stay calm! Follow the plan, and keep the faith alive!" Alyosha called to his people. They responded with raucous cheering and applause as their leader was led away. The fore teams slowly backed out of the courtyard after Grigori's exit, everyone confused at what had just happened. "Its nice to live in more civil times, isn't it?" Alyosha goaded Grigori. "Shut the fuck up." Grigori hissed, urging him along. "There's nothing civil about what you've done, you piece of shit." Irena added, taking the opportunity to deliver a bone crushing punch to Alyosha's jaw. "You will never touch me again!" she growled as Alyosha reeled from heavy blow, laughing as he braced himself against the wall of the hallway, spitting out a mixture of blood and broken teeth as he laughed. "I can't even look at you." Bas snarled as he placed a black bag over Alyosha's head before Grigori forced him forward again. "Matar, we're on our way back. Get the boats ready." Grigori barked into the radio. "Yes sir." Matar replied.

The group approached the beach as the sun began to rise, smoke still rising from the ruins of Novisibraskaya as they pushed forward with their prize. Grigori took the opportunity to release some rage as he pushed Alyosha into the boat, sending falling face first against the bottom. He let out a muffled groan through the black hood as he tried to push himself up into a sitting position. "Sir?" one of the soldiers called, trying to get Grigori's attention. Grigori turned to see six of the soldiers with their weapons aimed at an approaching man, wearing an officer's coat, a rifle slung across his back. "You see him, right?" Grigori asked Irena, breathing heavily. "I see him." Irena replied, confused. Grigori rushed forward, pushing past the soldiers toward the man. "Who are you?!" Grigori shrieked, grabbing onto the man's collar and wrestling him to the ground. The man smiled at him, and raised his hands. "A friend of the people." he said, his low croaking voice unafraid, almost happy. "That doesn't answer the question!" Grigori snarled, drawing back his fist. "Colonel Kiril Givan." the man said calmly. Grigori slowly lowered his fist, shaking his head, before getting off the colonel, and helping him to his feet. "Why have you been following me?" Grigori asked, his head filled with so many questions. "We have much to discuss, young man. Very, very much." Kiril smiled, placing his hand on Grigori's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. The rest of the group seemed just as confused as Grigori as the Colonel made his way to the boat where Alyosha was sat. Kiril lifted the bag to look at Alyosha, who froze in terror for a moment, before he began to kick wildly and scream his objections, before Irena hammered the butt of her rifle across his skull, knocking him unconscious.

The boat ride back across the bay was uneventful, though they could all feel the tension in the air. "Why me?" Grigori asked Kiril again as they sped across the water. "Your father. He convinced Szubrov you were destined for better things. You know just as well as I do that your father has more pull than most other politicians in Yamantau. It's why you're in the position you are now instead of being hanged in Tagtaryev for participating in a terrorist plot. Your father has the Commandant's ear, who in turn has the ear of the Premier." Kiril explained, squinting in the light of the morning sun. "You led me out of the Bureau, said you were saving my life. That means you knew about the attack. If you knew about it, why didn't you stop it?" Grigori inquired. "We knew the attack was going to happen, we just didn't know when. I knew you were being held there for debriefing, and we only got the call about an attack in Spigodja that morning, stood to reason that they'd put their plan into action across the nation that day. We didn't know it would go this far." Kiril rambled as he asked Irena for one of her cigarettes. "Who is this we you keep talking about?" Irena interjected as she handed over the pack of smokes. "Yamanta Intelligence Service. Pietro Vera thought he had been operating secretly for the last 6 years, but in truth, we had known about him for the last 5. This nation is full of rats, who will do anything to raise their families out of the squalor, and Vera was not immune to this, Piotr squealed as soon as we asked him. Willy Skaggs. I believe you met him back at the apartment complex. He was doing time in Tagtaryev on a coke charge a couple days ago. We found out he had history with sleeping beauty here, so we made him a deal. Moved him to Graznei, told him Bulgarin was coming. He's going to disappear in a few days, reappear in a few more in Kiroyev under the name Arthur MacLaughlin, working for a textile plant. He was the one who talked Bulgarin into letting you take him, and sending the others off. Willy is a good person in all honestly, if not a little odd." Kiril chattered, as if all this information was already common knowledge. Grigori opened and closed his mouth, searching for words, not knowing how to take any of this.

"He lost his mind when he saw you. What's up with that?" Bas chimed in, also asking Irena for a cigarette. "I killed his father during the transition to the new government. His mother too. Put them against the wall outside their home and shot them." Kiril replied coolly. "You're a cold bastard, Colonel." Grigori said without thinking. "Your old man said the same thing." Kiril beamed.

The boats landed back at YPACC Czerna in the early morning, Grigori and his team quickly and quietly loading Alyosha into the plane they had taken to the military facility, now accompanied by Colonel Givan, his rifle and duffle bag slung across his shoulder. Irena secured Alyosha to come.of the seats using cargo straps, and took her own seat across from Grigori as Kiril settled in for a nap, and Bas went to change his pants. "You never told me your father was into this spy shit." Irena said quietly, looking at Grigori as he stared out the window. "I haven't seen my father for 8 years, other than pictures in the newspaper." Grigori shot back. "I didn't mean anything by it. Its...its just a lot to take in." Irena sighed. "Yeah, I know. I knew something was strange, but I didn't know my father was pulling all these strings." he replied, leaning forward, and grasping Irena's hands. "This is almost over, Irena." he tried to reassure her. "I don't know. Something seems very off about this. Where are all the other prisoners? You can't just move that many people quietly. You can't just avoid two YPA divisions, clean sweep a forward operations base, and level a city, and then just disappear." she said, almost desperately.

Bas slammed through the bathroom door with his tablet in hand, staring at the screen awestruck. "Sir, ma'am, check your comms." he gasped. Kiril's eyes fluttered open at the commotion as he rose to investigate. Grigori pulled the tablet from his bag and saw an urgent notification to connect to an uplink. He tapped on the screen, following the prompts for passwords and ID keys until the live feed from a drone flashed across the screen. People were climbing out of the sewers and drainage tunnels everywhere, pouring out like a flood. "The city wasn't empty...we were on top of them the whole time…." Irena gasped. Alyosha began laughing at them, mocking their shock. "Its all part of the plan." he wheezed. "The 3rd and 12th Divisions are reporting mass casualties." Bas interjected. "They won't make it out." he continued, flicking through the radio channels on his headset. Grigori stormed over to Alyosha, tearing the sack off his head, coming face to face with the bloodied smile that Alyosha wore so often. "You fucker!" Grigori screamed, striking Alyosha in the eye before Kiril could pull him away. Alyosha laughed hysterically as Grigori struggled against the Colonel. "You son of a bitch! I'll see you swing if I have to do it myself!" Grigori screamed. "Let him be, son. Let him be." Kiril urged calmly.

The plane landed in Kiroyev around noon, the occupants all eager to get out. Grigori had called ahead and arranged for a car to bring Oxanna and Misha to the airfield, while Irena made the necessary calls to the Ministry of Defence to warn them of the threat from Novisibraskaya. Grigori seized Alyosha by the neck as the door of the plane's cabin opened, and somewhat gleefully pushed Alyosha down the short flight of stairs to the ground, sending him tumbling down the narrow stairs. "Bitch." Grigori hissed as he pulled Alyosha to his feet again. While the others made their way to the waiting cars that would take them to Grigori's apartment, Grigori pushed Alyosha along into the terminal, and into a small search room off to the side. Two men stood guard at the door as Grigori shut the door behind them, forcing Alyosha into the chair across from the waiting Oxanna, and the terrified Misha. Grigori looked to Oxanna, and raised an eyebrow as if to ask if she was ready, she swallowed hard, and gave a small nod. Grigori pulled the sack off Alyosha's head, and stepped back. Alyosha smiled as he laid eyes on Oxanna. "Hey, hey, you're ok! Did they hurt you!? I'll kill them if they did!" Alyosha babbled. Oxanna stared at him blankly before shaking her head. "I'm fine. They rescued me, they didn't hurt me." she said before pausing to look at Misha. "You're a monster, Aly, and I'll be happy to see you hang. I'll be glad when you're gone because it means you can't hurt anyone anymore." she stated dryly. The smile fell from his face as he heard the words. "Baby, come on, you don't mean that, you're just saying what they want you to say, they're trying to hurt us both!" he screamed. "No, Aly. They aren't. You're the one out to hurt people. You could have killed Jacobs and Nared, and stopped the cycle right there, but you chose not to. You could have went to the base in Novisibraskaya and surrendered, just told the truth about Obresk and Ilya. You made the choice to be a monster. You only have yourself to blame." she spoke over him, waving him off, before rising to her feet, holding Misha's hand, pulling him along. "Goodbye, Alyosha. I hope you find peace in death." Oxanna said, almost drowned out by Alyosha's wailing. Grigori followed Oxanna out of the room, turning to the men guarding it "Take him to the Romarnik lock up, have the interrogation team work him over until he talks." he ordered. The guards nodded and gave a firm salute as Grigori walked away. He could Alyosha's screams as he walked away, trying to catch up with Oxanna.

As he did, he put his arm around her, and let her lean her head on his shoulder. "I know that can't have been easy." he began, before she stopped him. "That's not why I'm upset, Gori. I'm upset with just how easy it was. I want to see him hang." she said, about to burst into tears. "Let's just get back to the apartment." Grigori said, keeping his arm around her as they walked. Grigori fell asleep on the ride back to the apartment, Oxanna rousing him when they arrived. As they entered the apartment, only Irena sat on the couch, wearing one of Grigori's shirts, and a pair of his sweatpants. "Where did everyone else go?" Grigori asked as he set down his gear bag. "Kiril is walking around in the park in front of the Premier's residence, Bas went home to grab clean clothes before the debrief, he should be back soon. I took a shower, I hope you don't mind." she said, her voice filled with exhaustion. "Yeah, that's fine. What are you doing?" Grigori sighed as he approached the back of the couch, wrapping his arms around Irena, who reached up and clung to his forearms. "Reading through the reports that are already coming through from Spigodja. The prisoners are rallying in Novisibraskaya, seems a lot of the civvies are joining them. They're fighting with the YPA. Apparently Szubrov has cleared the YPA to use any measures necessary to put them down." she said softly as she rested her chin on his arms. "Ah shit. Well, at least we got Bulgarin. They're taking him to Romarnik. They'll keep us updated on what he says." Grigori remarked, planting a small kiss on the top of Irena's head before walking away. "Svrtan is going to make an appearance to talk about it in a couple days apparently." Irena called after him. Grigori paused before rounding the corner to the bathroom, "That old bastard better watch himself in public these days." he beamed.

Alyosha sat quietly at the cold metal table, the slow flicker of the lights overhead casting a shadow on the brushed steel surface every so often. Romarnik was hell on earth for enemies of the state in Yamantau, and here he was, locked away in the bowels of the pit. He had already endured three days of beatings, having his teeth pulled, being electrocuted in less than pleasant places, and waterboarded. He figured the next round would be soon enough.

He tended up, balling his hands into fists as he heard footsteps approaching yet again, with the same familiar tip tap of boots across the pale green concrete floors. A pair of burly guards entered the room and moved to either side of their prisoner, picking him up under the armpits, and dragging him out of the room. He was too weak to stand, let alone walk, so they dragged him along, his feet sliding across the floor.

"So boys….what today? Gonna cut my fingers off? Maybe the toes?" Alyosha asked wearily, his head flopping around like an infant. Both guards stayed silent, staring straight ahead. Alyosha breathed heavily as he watched the cracks in the pale green floor pass underneath him. "Ah, so today, you hang me." he muttered, defeated. "Not quite!" a voice called from the end of the hall. Alyosha looked up to see the Commisar standing proudly in the gate to the cellblock. "Ah fuck." Alyosha sighed, now wishing they'd hang him instead. The Commisar motioned to an open door off to side, stepping back to allow the men to pull Alyosha inside.

Szubrov entered the room behind them, waving the men off as they pushed Alyosha into the hard wooden chair in the center of the room. "Leave us." Szubrov commanded, standing at attention as the pair glared at their captive as they exited. Szubrov turned and locked the door behind them, before turning and taking a moment to examine the beaten down man before him. He was covered in bruises, blood coming from his ears and nose, his skin covered in cigarette burns. "You are strong. Both physically, and in spirit. I respect that." Szubrov drawled as he pulled up a folding chair, sitting backwards on it, resting his arms on the back as he continued to examine Alyosha.

Alyosha tried not to make eye contact as Szubrov reached over and pushed his chin up. "Look at me...look..LOOK...at me." Szubrov growled as he forced Alyosha to look him in the eyes. "You're a dead man, we both know that. You're dead….as long as you remain in Yamantau. If you were say...somewhere else, you could live a long and happy life. Well, maybe not happy, but long." Szubrov said, raising his eyebrows at the young man. Alyosha stopped struggling and stared at the mountain of muscles across from him, wondering where he was going with this. Szubrov let go of his face, and nodded gently. "Yeah, now I have your attention. I can help you, but you need to help me first. No bullshit this time. 24 hours, and you're in Predice, Mouxordia, Ponterre, Inowalki, wherever you want to go, with a million tarkoes in your pocket, and a state issued death certificate in our files. All you have to do is help me solve a common problem. A problem that affects you, me, and some very important friends of mine." Szubrov explained, taking a cigarette from the pack he kept in his breast pocket, placing it between Alyosha's lips, and lighting it. Alyosha inhaled deeply, letting the rush of nicotine take the edge off his pain. "What problem?" he groaned, leaning back in the hard seat. "The problem is not important, the solution is. I know you're in good with Lenid Nared. He can get things that I need. Things I have no access to otherwise. Specifically, a poison not easy to find in Yamantau." Szubrov said, looking down at the dirt under his nails, before casting a knowing glance up to Alyosha. "What if I say no?" Alyosha croaked, taking another long puff off the cigarette. "I have you hanged right now. You say no, you die. You say yes, you live. But...if you breathe so much as a word of what has happened, my friends cut you into so many pieces that they'll never be able to put you back together, understand?" Szubrov asked rhetorically "I'm gonna give you until you finish that cigarette to make a choice." he continued.

The two men sat in silence as Alyosha smoked, debating what he should do, finally, he nodded solemnly. Szubrov nodded back, and took Alyosha under the arm, and guided him out of the room. "Play along." Szubrov whispered as they approached the gate once more. The guards stepped in, ready to take Alyosha from Szubrov. "No. I am taking this man into my personal custody. The Premier has ordered him to be held at Hremansk before his execution." Szubrov said firmly. Alyosha began to kick wildly at the mention of Hremansk, Szubrov tightening his iron grip on the man. "Y-yes sir." the guards sputtered in unison, saluting as they stepped aside, allowing Szubrov to drag Alyosha away. "When we get outside, my men will put you in a van, and take you to Nared. There is a change of clothes, some food, and a pistol in the back of the van. When you have the item, you will meet one of my men in the market, and make the exchange, from there, you will be taken to Tagtaryev, and flown out of the country, understand?" Szubrov explained. "Yes." Alyosha panted, "But I have a request. I want Grigori Chernenkov dead." he growled as the Commisar pulled him along. "No. That is not part of the deal. You will do as instructed. No more, no less. In exchange, you start again somewhere new. No other conditions." Szubrov snapped.

The pair emerged into the bright daylight, and just as Szubrov said, Alyosha was pushed into a white van that was waiting in the Commisars's convoy. One of the men in the back unlocked Alyosha's restraints, and climbed between the seats, beginning their drive towards the market district. Szubrov climbed into the back of his sedan, sitting quietly as he watched the van disappear. He pulled out his phone, and dialed a now familiar number, the recipient of the call picking up on the fifth ring, as always. "We're live." Szubrov muttered, before hanging up. He sighed heavily, before dialing another number. "Get them all into position, we're live." he ordered, again hanging up before the person on the other end could respond. "Driver, home please." Szubrov said smugly, a devious twinkle in his eye.

Alyosha managed to clean himself up decently enough before the van lurched to a stop outside the old safehouse. He checked the magazine of the pistol, and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans before exiting out the sliding side door of the vehicle, which sped off as soon as the door closed again. He had been given a prepaid cellphone with one number in it, to be used only after he had procured what Szubrov was after. He pulled his hood up, jammed his hands in his pockets, and headed for the restaurant that worked from. He brushed past the woman at the counter as he entered, heading straight for the office. He knocked on the door, and waited for Vanya to open it up for him, before stepping in.

Nared looked him up and down, drumming his fingers on the desk. "I need…" Alyosha began. "You need one last favour?" Nared beamed. "Come, shimshon. Sit." he said kindly. Alyosha plopped down in the chair, and took a moment to compose himself. "I need a very specific poison. I've been told you're the man to talk to." Alyosha said, sliding a paper across the desk. Nared took his bifocal glasses from his pocket and perched them on the end of his nose as he read off the information on the paper, before looking over the thick silver rims at the battered young man. "This is some heavy shit, kid. I presume you got the cash for this?" Nared inquired, pushing the paper back across the desk. Alyosha reached into his pocket, and pulled out the envelope that Szubrov had left for him. "Yeah, right here, whatever you want, take it." Alyosha said meekly. Nared gently pulled the envelope towards himself, furrowing his brow at Alyosha. He opened the envelope and let out a surprised whistle. "Well, kid, I gotta say, you really know what a guy wants. Give me a few hours, I know a guy that knows a guy." Nared explained, before picking up the lemon yellow phone on his desk, and slowly punching in the numbers. Alyosha turned his focus to the TV in the corner. The prisoners from Graznei and Duva had surrendered to the YPA, almost too willingly. It looked like the YPA had enlisted them. More reports came on, all telling of the YPA moving mass amounts of men and resources around the country in the last few hours. Something was happening. Nared spun back around, and folded his hands on his lap. "My girl will be here in a couple hours with what you need. Just relax. It'll all be over soon." Nared assured him. Alyosha raised his eyebrow at Nared's comment. "What do you mean?" he asked. Nared simply smiled, and motioned for him to leave.

Sure enough, a couple hours later, a petite blonde woman approached Alyosha as he leaned against the wall outside the restaurant, and secretively handed him a small brown box, big enough to fit in the palm of his hand. She left without saying a word, leaving him standing there with what he needed. He quickly opened the small box, and dropped a vial of clear liquid into his hand, it had a label on it written in a language he couldn't read, with many words at the bottom in red. This had to be it. He quickly dialed the number in the prepaid phone, and was given directions to hand off the item to a YPA officer who was waiting just a few blocks away. He walked as fast as he could, trying not to make eye contact with anyone as he moved. Finally, he approached the alley where he was supposed to meet his contact. The officer in question was waiting for him already, and quickly took possession of the vial, before directing Alyosha down the alley, and whisking himself away. Alyosha nervously approached the end of the alley, sure that the only thing waiting for him was a bullet in the head, but Szubrov kept his word, a black sedan was waiting. Alyosha climbed in, and took note of a briefcase on the seat. "That's for you." the driver said dryly, as he pulled out of the alley, and began their journey. Alyosha opened up the case, and just as Szubrov promised, one million tarkoes, accompanied by a note, which read:

Mr. Bulgarin, your end of the deal is complete. As an honourable man, I will uphold mine. When you reach my man in Tagtaryev, simply tell him where you want to go, and so it shall be. This should be enough to get you started. Godspeed, and may we never cross paths again.
-Ygor Szubrov

Alyosha let his head fall against the seat as the tears began to stream down his face. It was finally over for him. He would never see this wretched place again. He was free.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Szubrov paced in his apartment, pausing every so often to look out the window across the square at the Premier's residence, and back across towards the building where Grigori lived. He scrambled for his phone as it began to ring. "Yes?" he asked frantically. "Sir, I have it." the voice on the other end said quietly. "Excellent. Bring it to me, and get everything else going. It is almost time." he said sternly, before hanging up, and approaching the window. He looked down at his phone again, and dialed the old familiar number. Five rings. "It is time, my friend. Everything is in place. It is time." he said.

Szubrov sat quietly as he watched Svrtan pace from corner to corner in his office. He had ling considered it odd that Svrtan paced diagonally instead of side to side, but said nothing.

"Volodymyr, please, sit down. You're giving me a headache." Szubrov blurted, rubbing the bridge of his nose between his finger and thumb. Svrtan stopped, glancing over his shoulder at Szubrov with a hateful glare before redirecting, and taking a seat at his desk, flopping into the chair.

"Ygor, what am I supposed to do? These fucking people expect answers as to what happened, why I decided to pardon those filthy rats. It was either give them a pardon, or let them destroy the city!" Svrtan shouted, motioning dramatically towards the window. Szubrov shifted in his seat as he lit a cigarette and pulled the ashtray on the side table towards himself. "Volodymyr, just relax. Perhaps you need a drink, old friend." Szubrov suggested, settling into his new sitting position. Svrtan nodded slowly, drumming his fingers on his desk. "Maybe you are right." he sighed, leaning towards the intercom box that seemed so out of place on the mahogany desk. "Viktor, I need a drink. Now." he demanded, a few seconds later, the barman gave a firm "Yes, Premier."

The two men sat in silence in the office as Svrtan reviewed his notes for the speech he would give the next day, making small corrections here and there, silently reciting the same tired rhetoric he had so many times before. This however, would be his first public appearance in years, aside from his less than strong presence at the wedding of Tobias and Alycia a few months prior. He knew this speech had to be perfect to appease the people. "Relax." Szubrov muttered as he lit another cigarette off the butt of the last one. Svrtan again glared at him, almost in disbelief. "How can you be so calm all the time, Ygor? How can you honestly sit there and tell me to relax, when these rats could tear us apart if they so chose?" Svrtan asked accusingly. Szubrov glanced over to the Premier as he exhaled sharply. "I'm calm because one of us has to be." he replied. The men glared at each other across the empty space between them, the tense silence being broken by a knock on the door. "Come in!" Svrtan called, directing his attention to the door. Szubrov straightened up, and watched as Viktor entered, and silently moved across the room, placing a glass on the desk, as he did every night. 3 ounces of Predicean Whiskey with 2 ice cubes in a crystal tumbler, engraved with intricate details. Viktor bowed his head and turned away, making eye contact with Szubrov, the two sharing a small nod. A knowing nod, before Viktor tucked the tray under his arm and exited the room.

"See, that's one of your problems, Ygor. You're far too friendly with the fucking help." Svrtan poked as he grabbed the glass. Szubrov shifted his gaze back to the still night sky out the window, and took a long drag from his cigarette. "It's not that I'm too friendly with them, it's probably the fact that I acknowledge them as a fellow human being." Szubrov said dryly, almost antagonistic in his tone. Svrtan shook his head, and took a sip from the glass. "Hmm, very sweet tonight. Must be an older vintage." he mused before taking a larger mouthful. "How odd.." he continued, swishing around the contents. "Viktor always makes sure that the liquor cabinet is stocked with the best of the best, didn't you know?" Szubrov chuckled, knowing it was only a matter of time now. The simple Premier couldn't help himself but to down the rest of the drink almost immediately, examining the glass afterwards, watching the ice cubes slowly glide around the bottom. "Ahh, damn good stuff." he beamed.

"Yeah, I've heard Predicean whiskey is pretty killer." Szubrov said with smile. Svrtan raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his old friend, and sat back. "See that's another thing I hate about you. You use stupid words like killer to describe something g..g...g.." Svrtan began, beginning to cough as he finished his sentence. Szubrov leaned in his seat to face Svrtan, watching him struggle for air while he pounded on his chest as the coughing continued. Svrtan's face began turning red, the veins in his forehead bulging out as he coughed more and more forcibly. "Having a bad time?" Szubrov asked, the smile on his face growing larger. Svrtan began to panic as he struggled, a growing pain in his chest making it hard to even focus. "Just relax." Szubrov taunted him, watching the Premier stagger to his feet, and attempt to round the desk, faltering with each step. Svrtan clawed at his chest, gasping for air now, the sharp wheeze filling the office as he collapsed at Szubrov's feet. "Ygor...Y..Ygor!" he gasped, grabbing at Szubrov's pants, Szubrov in turn pushing Svrtan away with his foot, a disgusted look on his face. "At least die with some fucking dignity. Maybe then at least I'll be the only one who didn't think you died a coward." Szubrov spat, picking up his own drink from the side table and taking a swig. Svrtan began to realize his situation now as he writhed on the floor. He began trying to crawl towards the door, feebly inching forward, trying to get help. Szubrov snapped his fingers, and the doors swung open. The men who had been standing guard blocking the exit for the Premier. Szubrov whistled and pointed towards the desk, the guards picking Svrtan up by the arms, and dragging him back across the room, planting him in his chair once more. Svrtan stared at Szubrov through his now bloodshot eyes, the pain in his chest unbearable but unable to scream. Szubrov smiled as he gently placed the glass down, and rose to his feet, swaggering across the room. "Volodymyr Svrtan, on behalf of the people of Yamantau, who you have treated as rats, who you have oppressed, who you have kept away from the rest of the world for 30 long years...I sentence you to death." Szubrov said firmly, watching the terror in Svrtan's eyes with no small amount of personal joy. "You can..you can..you can't do this!" Svrtan rasped. "I can, and I have. You can't hurt the good people of Yamantau anymore, Volodymyr. You murdered your father, you betrayed your people. You deserve this." Szubrov whispered as he leaned across the desk. With a few final panicked breaths, Svrtan's chest ceased to rise and fall, and he became very still. "Hold him for a few seconds." Szubrov instructed his men. They grasped the Premier firmly, and held him down to the chair as he began to spasm violently, a few seconds later, falling entirely still, the final rush of air escaping from his lungs as a wheezing rattle.

Szubrov took a deep breath, and exhaled as he turned to look out the window. "Go now. Take up your posts and remember the plan." Szubrov told his men. They both nodded, and exited the room, taking up their posts outside the door, just as ordered. Szubrov turned again, taking a moment to look upon Svrtan's lifeless body, slumped in the high backed chair. "Cunt." he muttered as he rounded the desk, and stood by the intercom. He took a moment, and then pressed the talk button. "Please! Someone! Get a doctor! Something has happened! The Premier isn't moving! I think he's had a heart attack! Please hurry!" he shouted into the intercom, feigning panic and terror. A female voice answered through the intercom shortly after, assuring the Comissar that help was coming.

A few minutes later, the Premieres personal physician, Dr. Anton Ishtara, entered the room, rushing to the Premier, pushing Szubrov out of the way. He shook the lifeless Premier, before trying to find a pulse. "He's gone, doctor." Szubrov choked, forcing himself to cry. "Sir, what happened?" the doctor asked desperately, looking towards Szubrov. "He was going over his speech, and he just slumped over in his seat, he wouldn't answer me, or move, nothing!" Szubrov shouted. The doctor nodded solemnly, before rising to his feet, and moving to close the door, the crowd of servants and guards outside no longer able to gawk through the doorway. "Well, that should be enough to convince them." Dr. Ishtara said quietly, Szubrov quickly dropping the act. "Hopefully. My men outside will help you transport the body out of Hremansk and to the morgue. You already have the autopsy report ready, yeah?" Szubrov asked. "Yeah. Says he died of massive cardiac arrest. You kept your end of the deal, getting my boy out of the military, so I'll keep mine." Ishtara said, glancing up at Szubrov. "It's no big deal, your boy is a better lawyer than a soldier." Szubrov smiled.

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Grigori woke to Irena nudging his arm, handing him his ringing phone. Grigori squinted at the bright screen before snapping to attention and answering. "Bas, what's going on?" he asked groggily. "Hey, sorry to wake you sir, but there's a couple things. I just received the death certificate for Alyosha Bulgarin. He was hanged at Romarnik last night. All the paperwork is in order, says the order to execute him was signed by Szubrov himself, and uh….you may want to turn on the news." Bas rambled. "Uh, ok." Grigori groaned, throwing back the covers and marching through the apartment in his underwear, turning on the TV in the living room, Irena and Oxanna following shortly after. "What's happening?" Oxanna asked, rubbing her eyes as she rounded the corner. "Not sure, Bas told me to turn on the news." Grigori remarked. The news showed an aerial shot of Hremansk, and multiple emergency vehicles with their lights on parked outside. Irena raised an eyebrow and quickly ran to the window. Pulling back the curtains, she could see the vehicles at the other end of the plaza. "What the fuck?" she said quietly, turning back to the TV. The three sat in awe as the news anchor said the 4 words that the entire nation had waited 30 years to hear. "Premier Svrtan is dead."

"Holy...shit." Grigori said, astonished as he leaned back into the couch. Oxanna shot Grigori a curious look, before leaning in. "Hey uh, do they keep your apartment tapped?" Oxanna asked quietly. "No, why?" Grigori shot back, almost offended that she would think his apartment needed to be wire tapped. "Because I think that old fucker's death is a reason to celebrate." she beamed. "I'll drink to that." Irena said coyly. Grigori smiled, and nodded, returning to his room to put on some clothes, bringing Irena a pair of sweatpants to wear as well. The girls had already brought out four bottles of cheap rasat, and were pouring drinks. "To a better Yamantau." Grigori gave the first toast. "To our new, inevitably better leader!" Oxanna shouted. "Wait, doesn't that mean Szubrov is the new Premier?" Irena interjected, glancing between Grigori and Oxanna. The three shared a moment of realization before erupting into a round of cheering. "To Premier Szubrov!" Irena shouted.

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The news had reached every home in Yamantau by 10 o'clock the next morning, and for the first time in thirty years, the people did not dread the day. Szubrov was getting ready to make a speech in place of the now dead Svrtan, and for the first time in a long time, it would be broadcast internationally, the first step in letting the world know, that Yamantau was no longer to hide itself away. That Yamantau would no longer push against the rest of Eras. That Yamantau wanted to reach out. The people of Yamamtau waited patiently for the broadcast to begin, thousands already gathered in Hremansk plaza.

Szubrov eventually emerged from the doors of Hremansk and strode up to the dark wood podium, where the seal of Yamantau hung proudly from the front. He carried no notes, came with no security, and was dressed in a black three piece suit, the only splash of color in his ensemble the deep red tie around his neck. He cleared his throat and looked out over the crowd, a small smile creeping across his lips.

"Comrades...the tyrant has fallen!" Szubroc proclaimed, raising a fist in the air. The crowd stood silent for a moment, shocked that even Svrtan's closest advisors knew him as a tyrant, before they erupted into a symphony of celebratory cheers and ecstatic weeping. Szubrov nodded approvingly, before motioning for the crowd to be silent, placing his hands on either side of the podium.

"For thirty long years, we have lain in darkness, suffering under the shadow of a usurper we once thought would bring us salvation. He brought only despair, indignity, and pain! No more! The good Lord has seen fit to take him from this mortal plane, and give us the salvation we so sorely sought! Today, Yamantau will again walk into the light!" Szubrov shouted, slamming his fists off the podium, whipping the crowd into a frenzy yet again. "You are no longer prisoners of your own government! You are no longer traitors for wanting a better life! YOU..ARE..FREEE!" Szubrov continued, his voice booming through the loudspeakers barely audible over the roar of the people. Szubrov allowed them to continue for some time, watching them reach out to him, seeing the people wave the flag of Yamantau high and proud once more. "Today, we open ourselves to the world! Today, we ask the world to once again look to Yamantau, to trust in us once more! To the nations of Ponterre, and Inowalki, you will be welcome in Yamantau once more as the barricades are torn down! It is with all my heart, that I pray we can undo the damage that Svrtan has done! To the nations of Eras, I ask you, will you open yourselves to us, as we open ourselves to you?!" Szubrov shouted, pointing directly into the camera. "I AM PREMIER YGOR SZUBROV, AND I DECLARE YAMANTAU….FREE!"

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His Excellency
Ygor Szubrov
Premier of the People's Republic of Yamantau
Kiroyev

Dear Your Excellency:

On behalf of the Lawstoner people and by the power vested in me by the Constitution as President of the Lawstoner Republic, I hereby recognize you and your new administration as the legitimate government of Yamantau. I congratulate you and the Yamanta people for overcoming the great many difficulties to achieve this historic and national development.

I am sure to support whatever plans you may have in store for the future of Yamantau. I hope these plans will prioritize delivering justice to the victims of the Svrtan dictatorship, lest the wounds of the past will never truly heal, and if careless, may open new ones and bring more pain and suffering. But rest assured now and be confident. Your recognition of the Svrtan dictatorship's crimes is the first step to realize national reconciliation and unite the people in a common ground that aims for the good and lasting peace of your country.

For 30 years, the world watched Yamantau. The atrocities were no secret, which you have so righteously confirmed in your maiden speech. The world watched silent, but in that silence granted the unfortunate Yamanta the basic, if not complete, human dignity of which they were robbed. The world prayed and cried, shared grief from beyond oceans and seas. We, the Lawstoner people, offer our most sincere condolences to those who lost their lives to the tyranny of the Svrtan dictatorship. It is impossible to remember every name, but their death was not meaningless. They were martyrs, fathers, mothers, and they were children.

Wherever they may be, I offer this prayer to them: Sidapa, humihingi kami ng iyong tawad. Dalhin mo sila sa kanilang huling hantungan: Ang iyong mga pagod, ang iyong mga mahihirap, nalulunod at nakaranas ng sobrang sakit at pagdurusa. Kami ay walang kahihiyan, Sidapa. Mangyaring tumingin po, sa kabila ng kanilang mga pagkakamali sa buhay, at makita na sila ay namatay ng walang kamalay-malay at walang gritigkit.

In this new chapter of Yamanta history, I accept and fully support your new leadership and the Government of the People's Republic of Yamantau in your endeavors to rebuild your country. We look forward and hope for a better, brighter, and closer future together in the brotherhood of free nations.

Mabuhay!

Hochachtungsvoll,

Rajesh L. Galang
Präsident der Lawstoner Republik

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