Disease, Chapter 1
#1 of Disease
Hey!
This story may involve adult themes in the future! I will mark said sections, so all 2 of you who DON'T want porn, or those who aren't 18 or older, can skip these totally not-plot-essential parts. No porn yet.
"I'm looking for a man named Petrovski," Dyno said to the polar bear across the small, bar table.
"I've heard, you've shot up half of the Russian underworld," the polar bear said in his thick, Russian accent.
"I didn't call you to chat, do you have the dossier, or what?"
The large polar bear retrieved a manila envelope from underneath the table and tossed it to Dyno.
"He's further east, deep into Serbia. He built a facility underground. Nobody seems to know where his resources are coming from, which means he has enough to pay everyone to keep quiet."
"Either the resources, or the leverage," Dyno replied.
"I doubt it, he left the Russian Mob, you can't just leave the Mafia. They have him death marked, and a dead man can't get much leverage, can he?" the bear said, smugly. "I have the GPS coordinates written down, here," he continued, "and I have thermal, surface, and infrared images of the area."
"Anything interesting?" Dyno asked as he sorted through the various documents.
"There are few heat signatures, which doesn't make sense. Even if he has no guards, he'd need test subjects. B.O.W.'s don't just come from mixing chemicals with germs."
"Do you have any idea what he's up to?" Dyno asked, quizzically.
"Something is off, I'm not sure what it is, but there's something we're missing here. I just can't tell exactly what."
"That's what I needed, Ivan, thank you," Dyno said, preparing to leave.
"Wait, you're not thinking of going alone, are you? You'll need a team. A good one." Ivan said, suspiciously.
"One man can sneak in and operate more easily than a team. Stealth and mobility are more valuable than firepower for an assassination. That's covert ops 101, Ivan." Dyno said, condescendingly.
"Don't act like some secret agent hotshot! You're just a bear with a gun, and a couple of friends! A facility like this is designed with one way in, and out. No traffic goes unnoticed. There is no stealth." Ivan snapped.
"It's not like I have a whole lot of options, Ivan. You said it, yourself. I don't have too many friends. Just a couple convenient ones. How am I supposed to form a team?" Dyno replied, angrily.
"I lost my wife to the mortiphage, Dyno. I want this guy dead, too, but we have to be practical." Ivan explained, "I have a contact in Moscow, go the Comfort Freedom Inn, he'll meet you at 17:00 local time, in a week from today. He's an information broker, he'll have some names for you. Now, I've got to get back to the K.G.B. before I've been off the grid for too long."
Ivan began to get up and leave when he turned around and said, "Happy hunting."
Dyno waited sixteen minutes and left the bar, the cold wind piercing the exposed fur on his hands. He walked past two streets and turned left to his motel. It was a piece of junk place, but they didn't require identification like all Russian motels seemed to want now-a-days.
Dyno turned the key to his room, undressing and laying on his bed. As the brown bear fell asleep, his thoughts turned to his family...