October 2008
Kholm, Afghanistan
Vasily Belov – SVR
"RPG!" Dmitri shouted.
It came from behind. Five o'clock high, from the sound of it. We may have managed to leap out of the open-air jeep and onto the desert trail, but it was all too late. The force of the vehicle explosion launched me in midair as an RPG-7 impacted the back of our vehicle, with me and the three GRU operatives still less than one meter away from it before the blast.
I had a hard landing with my back slamming onto a rock. Were the impact any harder, it would've ended me right on the spot. Dmitri landed on his belly in a patch of desert bushes about two meters on my four o'clock. The two other operatives were nowhere to be seen but my guts tell me they're just on the other side of the car wreck. Dmitri looked at me from among the foliage. Visibly injured about as much as the rest of us, but concealed well enough, I think.
"Stay down," I mouthed.
Both my legs were broken. I thought, this was it. I looked to my left where the rocket came from. I saw three men walking towards us with their rifles drawn. Fuck this. If I'm going down, I'm taking those bastards with me. I will die, but I will not surrender. Some static went out of my earpiece... incoming transmission from Central.
"Mosin-1, do you copy?!"
"Central... they're coming... Guess I'll go down fighting..."
"Niet! Hang tight, Comrade, backup in 3 minutes!"
"Don't have a minute... Tell my family I love them... Do svidaniya..."
Natasha... stay strong for me and take care of your mother and brother. Looks like we won't be hitting the range any more... but I hope at least this gun finds its way to you. I know you've always liked it. You are stronger than you think... I will be watching over you from up there...
Sergei... sorry about your men. They're heroes. All of them.
I tried to reach for my holster... only to realize that my right arm had been almost completely ripped off from the elbow down, only hanging by a few tendons. In a desperate attempt to make a last stand I then reached with my left arm. I grabbed my Pistolet Beshumniyy and pointed it at the three men. My vision may have been blurry, but I saw them all in those last two seconds. The two men on the left and right had an AKS-74U each. The bearded man in the middle had a golden AK-47 in his hands with a bayonet attached, wore an Afghan pakol and black shades, and had an RPG-7 slung behind his back. Looks like he's the one who just blew us up.
I pointed my pistol at him, from the chest up, and pulled the trigger. One round hit him in his chest but was stopped by his ballistic vest, though he staggered as I fired two more rounds. I raised my aim and fired off another round, and it grazed him in the face across his nose and cheeks. Before I could fire another round, the two other men opened fire at me, joined by the one in the middle shortly after. Sharp, hot rounds pierced into my torso and limbs as I managed to land three rounds into the gunman on the right, which hit him in the stomach before I lost my grip on my pistol. I felt pain as the bullets burrowed into my lungs and one even went into my heart... but after that it was all numb and cold. My vision gradually went dark.
The gunman on the right held his stomach in pain and leaned on a nearby rock, while the gunman on the left fired a couple bursts to the other side of the wreck – the other two operatives – and laughed afterwards. He turned towards the gunman in the middle, who was holding the bridge of his nose.
"A job well done, Al-Kuwbra," he complimented the gunman in the middle, who was walking towards me.
"Not yet," the gunman in the middle replied, as he pointed his golden rifle right to my face.
*BANG!*
There came the muzzle flash, and the single bullet to send me to the other side. And everything became black before it gradually faded to white as I lost all my senses. I don't hear anything anymore but the ringing and see nothing but the white light. Guess that's that...
"Mosin-1, copy? Mosin-1? Vasily, are you there?! Dmitri? Anyone?!"
. . .
17.55 hours
November 10th, 2017
Mountain hideout, Iraq
Natasha Belova – Spetsnaz GRU
A blast of smoke and debris went in front of our eyes as the metal door was busted open on my command. We emerged from cover and stormed into the room, all guns blazing. Four hostiles were in my sight as the smoke dissipated. From behind his ballistic shield, Boris fired off his GSh-18, staggering one guy in the center and killing another on his right. Sergey leaned out to the left and a 2-round burst from his AN-94 blew the head off the guy on the leftmost.
I peeked to our right. One burst from my AK-12 to the chest and another guy was sent to the ground. And as I looked to the left, I saw him getting up and about to turn his back on us...
Wearing a ballistic vest, an Afghan pakol, and black glasses...
His AK-47 with golden parts, and a bayonet attached...
I remembered Central's description of him, all too well...
The man himself. Al-Kuwbra. Codename: Kobra.
I was stunned for a second as he fired a burst to my left. As I turned my gaze, I saw that he was aiming for Sergey, but Boris stepped in and blocked the rounds with his shield. An extra squad of gunmen sprung out of cover and kept my teammates busy. I raised my rifle towards Al-Kuwbra and... wait where did he go?!
Before I knew it, he had broken through some planks of plywood and was running from us through a tunnel, just ahead of us.
"Natasha, go!" Sergey exclaimed.
Ignoring the other enemies around us, I bolted straight into the hole in the wall. I fell a few feet into a gap and landed into a cart filled with straw on top of a rail. I leapt out, vaulted over another mine cart and caught sight of him in the middle of a chamber where the rail ended, about six meters in front of me. A ladder leading to the surface stood just behind him, and a detonator rested in his hand. Then I caught a familiar scent around me... which smelled of bad news.
Gasoline...
*BOOM!!*
I immediately hit the deck and felt the explosion and heat just behind me. A bunch of gas canisters blew up all around the chamber, setting the ground around them in flames. I quickly got up and took out my knife, as Al-Kuwbra appeared in front of me like a dark shadow with the flames behind him. His rifle was in his hands, with the bayonet mounted.
"Well, well, well... look who the Russians sent after me..." he said smugly.
"We both knew it would come to this," I replied, while raising my knife towards him and twirling it.
"One will survive, one will perish..."
"I know."
He swung his bayonet towards me, but I kicked it away from me with my right leg. The guy immediately turned around to his right and lunged towards my lower body. I parried it with my knife. He made a strike from the top right which I dodged.
I quickly went back in position, just in time, and I sidestepped as he tried to stab me in the torso. I slashed his arm with my knife, and simultaneously launched a hand-knife to the right side of his head. I launched a kick onto his stomach, before following it with a straight punch to the face which stunned him as he took a few steps back. He shook his head.
"I've been doing this before you were born, girl," he taunted.
"Bring it on, svoloch."
I slashed my knife towards his face. He dodged my strike, but I took out my silenced pistol and double-tapped at him. He staggered as the rounds impacted his vest. As he stepped back, he raised his rifle. I did a sideroll to my right as he fired a short salvo.
He made another lunge towards my chest. I pushed away his rifle with my right arm. Right at that moment he grabbed my knife arm with his left hand, while raising his right hand to strike me with his rifle's pistol grip. I blocked his strike and kicked him in the shin. Distracted, he let go of my hand, allowing me to stab his right shoulder, causing him to stagger.
Out of my expectation, he sidestepped and tackled me. I fell to the ground. He raised his rifle and was about to stab me on the ground, only for me to roll to my left and get up. He did a vertical strike towards my head, but I quickly switched to my rifle and blocked the strike with it. I twisted it, locking his bayonet and barrel between my magazine and trigger guard, and sidestepped as I did a low kick to the back of his knee.
I rammed my rifle stock towards his face. He fell down and dropped his rifle. I moved in for the kill. Al-Kuwbra got to his senses quicker than I thought, as he raised his legs and kicked me over twice. It caused me to stumble to the ground and drop my AK-12. I looked behind me and saw the guy already back on his feet, with his Desert Eagle pistol in his hand.
"I will gut you!"
I crawled forwards and reached for a weapon in front of me. It was no other than Al-Kuwbra's own gilded AK-47. I looked back and got up, as I saw him about to aim his pistol at me.
A couple gunshots were heard, but I dodged his aim and immediately jammed his rifle's bayonet straight into his right ribcage. He made a final attempt to point the pistol at my head. I grabbed it and broke his arm. As his pistol dropped, I caught it while I also took out my silenced pistol. I held both pistols against his knees and pulled the trigger. He groaned in pain as his kneecaps were busted. I dropped his pistol and took out my knife, right before I drove it straight into his stomach.
"This is for my father," I growled while slowly twisting the knife in the wound.
No longer able to fight or even stand up, he went down easily and fell on his back as I slammed my boot onto his sternum.
The fight was finally over. I grimaced as I suddenly felt some pain on my left arm as the adrenaline rush subsided. Huh... guess he did got me after all just now. One of the .50 AE rounds from his pistol grazed my arm. I consider myself lucky, any closer to the center and it would've blown my arm off. Shortly after I realized I've been taking some more strikes in the arms and legs, but I shrugged it off. I should be alright.
I slung my rifle behind my back and crouched down as I looked at him in the face, while pointing my pistol at him. He stared blankly as the life seeps out of him slowly but surely, while his rifle still sticks out of his ribcage held by the bayonet. I pulled out my knife from his stomach, causing him to cough blood.
"You... must be..." he muttered in Arabic.
"2008. Kholm, Afghanistan. Vasily Belov. You took a contract under Al-Qaeda for his life. You changed forever the life of a mother... a son... and a daughter. Me."
His eyes widened upon hearing my father's name. It's as if he knew what's coming to him. Now this... is the moment I have been working for. The coup de grace. Good thing me and Al-Kuwbra are alone here. This not the side of me that I want my teammates to ever see with their own eyes. But it must be done. This evil man does not deserve a quick death.
"When you killed him... my father... you started the countdown on a non-negotiable big-ass fucking time bomb... goatfucker..."
"Heh... do it... pull... trigger..."
"No," I said as I holstered my pistol, "You deserve worse."
I took out a greasy piece of bacon from my pocket and rubbed it on my knife, before shoving it right in front of Al-Kuwbra's eyes. The look on his face changed. I saw fear... though not as much as that guy back in Malmo.
He did not say anything. He just looked sharply into my eyes with a look of pure hatred and disbelief. Seems like he wanted to make an evil laughter if it wasn't for him already choking on his own blood. I picked up my rifle and slammed the stock right onto his lower jaw. Right after I did that, I shoved the piece of bacon into his broken mouth like a gag.
Then I took my greased-up knife and drove it into his chest. I pushed it in and let it there for a few seconds. I pull it out. And stab him three more times as he struggled weakly, before I drove it straight into his heart.
He struggled less and less... as if he accepted his fate...
I grabbed his PDA from his pocket, and then I just sat there beside him. Watching him suffocate and choke in his own blood... all "tainted" with the lard... A slow and agonizing death, as his body and brain starve for the oxygen that his blood-soaked lungs can no longer supply. And to add to that, he is bleeding out. He just gazed at me with a blank stare, in his last few moments.
Any minute now and he will feel only numbness, and black out, and pass on... certainly into the inferno.
And then... after a few moments of watching it, I guess it's time.
I slowly took out my sidearm. My father's PB, with his initials on it. It's only fitting, it has to end with this exact gun. One bullet... and it will be all over. For him, and for me. I aimed its muzzle on his forehead, as his eyes start to roll up.
"Do svidaniya."
On the last moment, to his surprise, I changed my mind and pointed it to his chest. I fired off all the remaining bullets into his lungs and heart. The bullet shortened his slow death, though not as quick and painless as a single bullet through the brain would. A few seconds later... he took his last breath and passed on.
Well... that's it. It's over.
It's finally over.
I killed the man who killed my father and personally made sure to send him on a one-way express trip to hell where he belongs. I gazed at my PB. And I kissed it to pay my respects for my father.
"Rest in peace... you have been avenged..."
I put it back in its holster, then grabbed my rifle and slung it behind my shoulder. I bandaged some of my wounds and left my knife behind in his chest as I walked out. After, of course, taking a snapshot of him as confirmation. Along the tunnel I walked slowly, while the fires around me has mostly died out. With a great sense of relief in my heart and a slightly light-headed feeling on my head, as a huge burden on my soul has been lifted...
The lights were on. Just at the other end of the tunnel, I saw them. Sergey and Boris. My teammates... and more than that. They are my friends. My comrades. The brave comrades and proud soldiers whom I could never have seen this moment without. But then... I also came to realization. Neither would I have seen this moment without Al-Kuwbra and what he did, as well as Uncle Sergei's revelation about what happened. It gave me a choice. It gave me something to live and fight for... as the journey transforms me into something so much more than what I ever was.
I felt a tear slide down my cheek. Honestly, I was more than relieved or satisfied. I was... for the first time since that fateful day... happy.
Sergey stepped forward ahead of my other comrades.
"I... I did it... I finally did it... Spasiba... bolshoe..." I said, and sniffled.
He didn't say anything as he looked into my teary gray eyes, and slowly wrapped his arms around me. To my surprise.
"Sergey, what are you doing? Uh... oh well..."
I just closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around his back as well. I suppose I should just let it happen. Yes... I could use this right now. A friend to share my happiness and relief with. It was blissful. At least... it made me feel... human.
"Congratulations... Natasha... it's finally over..." he said.
"Yeah... finally done..." I replied. He let go of me shortly after as I tapped him in the back twice.
"So, we've got what we came for. Mission accomplished. What now, Comrade?"
"When we get back home, drinks for everyone... On me..."
Then to our surprise, we heard gunshots. We listened to the gunshots and got to a combat-ready position as we drew out our weapons. Aside from the few startled terrorists shouting in Arabic, I heard English.
"Tangos down!"
"All clear, Sarge!"
I saw their headlights fast approaching. Americans?
"I got this," I said, then shouted in English, "Friendlies! Hold fire!"
"Star!" one of the Americans called out. He sounded familiar.
"Texas!" I answered. It was a wild guess.
"Hmm... we'll take point. Rest of you stay here," I heard him say.
Two of the American soldiers came down soon after. I saw familiar faces. Miller and Thompson. The ones I saved from an ambush, months ago. Miller and Thompson looked at me.
"Wait, you're..." Thompson whispered.
"Nat?" Miller continued.
"Da, it's me," I answered.
"So... where's Al-Kuwbra?" Miller asked.
I just smiled, and after a while I told him.
"We got him first."
"Hahaha... You need a photo, da? He's just down there," Boris continued as Miller came closer.
"Hmm... alright. You guys might wanna get out of here, my guys are storming the place for him now and I don't want anyone to mistake y'all for an unknown combatant or something."
"Isn't that what we're supposed to show up as?" I remarked and paused.
Wait a second. Miller was after Al-Kuwbra too? Just as I feared. All the way back when Uncle Sergei was about to take me under his wing. I already thought of this. That the Americans could have got him first... then I would have turned my life around for nothing.
"And we're also gonna blow this place to king-"
"Can I steal your boyfriend here for a while?" I smirked to Thompson who I did not give a chance to answer, as I curled an arm around Miller's shoulders and dragged him a few steps away from the rest of us.
"Wha... what's this about?" Miller asked as his line was interrupted.
"So, you were after Al-Kuwbra too."
"Uh... yeah. You guys aren't the only ones rooting out warlords fighting for ISIS. That explains the so little resistance... we were basically just picking off stragglers. They're no match for you..."
"I must tell you. That man over there... he's exactly why I'm here. In this uniform, with my team and my shooter. I turned my life around and went to training and all, so I can be the one to slay this evil excuse of a human being. This was... personal."
"Why, what did..."
"My friend, the bastard killed my father."
Miller went speechless for a moment.
"And I am here for revenge. And yet... never did I knew... were I to arrive here just one hour later... it would have been all for nothing. To think... it was you, the guys I saved, who could have nullified the purpose of my entire journey. Had I known... I would have let them take you guys... because I tell you... NOBODY... steals... my kill..."
Miller just smirked. I bumped my fist on his shoulder.
"Hey, I'm just joking about the latter, comrade. Still have to do the right thing. Maybe."
"Haha well... looks like the Russians win this round," he joked.
"We'll see each other again sometime, American. Do svidaniya!" I said as we did a macho handshake, then turned to my team, "Okay, let's move!"
We said our goodbyes. Miller handed me an IR strobe from one of his teammates and radioed their Apache gunship overhead to notify about four friendlies are coming out and ordered to cover them... as in cover us. I could tell from both of their faces, they wanted to give me more as gratitude for that one time. Maybe another time... if we meet again. As the two of them went over to take a photo of kill confirmation – which would by extension include seeing my handiwork – we soon went ahead of them to where I killed our target. None of us said anything as we passed by Al-Kuwbra's bloody corpse.
We went up the ladder and reached a narrow tunnel leading to an escape hatch. I was still injured, but Sergey helped me get all the way up. As we reached the end of the tunnel, Boris pushed away a few boards of plywood covered with dry grass on top of them. An unarmed pickup was parked right on top of the escape tunnel, which we mounted up immediately. Boris tended my wound onboard as we drove out of the scene. I reached for my earpiece.
"Central, target Kobra has been eliminated! Mission accomplished, over!" I reported with joy.
Well then... I look forward to sharing the news with my mother and little brother back in Archangelsk. My family would all be at peace. As much as part of me still cannot believe... I finally did it. The one thing I turned my life all around for. I have avenged my father. It's over now.
Only one question remains for me. What now?
Heh... I'll worry about later, after I buy my team a nice round of drinks at the best bar in Moskva.