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Chapter 5: Straight Out of Line

Alexei

I dreamed a dream that night. That had nothing to do with Les Mis, despite how similar that may sound. Totally unintentional. I don't even like musicals, especially not that one. At all. Because that kind of stuff is for females. And I wouldn't like it. Because I am a strong male. Who doesn't like musicals.

Anyway, since we got that cleared up, I had a dream. It was my wedding day, and I was all dressed up, as is customary for weddings. My bride waited for me at the end of an aisle. Where the aisle was, I couldn't tell ya. The place was pretty nondescript. Also I'm trying to remember a dream I had months ago, it's not that easy. She was wearing a white dress, and I could see a reddish-orange tail with a white tip protruding out of the back. She appeared short-ish, with a slim body and deep scarlet hair flowing down her back. Even though I could only see her from the back, Natalya looked beautiful. Dream-me knew that Natalya was all I'd ever want and ever need. I loved her. I love her. She's my soulmate.

I walked down the aisle, and I could see Natalya was holding some kind of bundle in front of her, but I couldn't tell what it was. She was standing between me and it, and I really didn't care. My sole purpose in life was to reach her; she was going to be mine, officially. I was nervous, yet calm because she gave me strength. It was all so surreal, I... I don't even completely comprehend what was happening even now. When I reached her, I whispered that I loved her, and when she swiveled to face me, her face, was not hers.

I was looking into the face of a brown-eyed tan dingo, and she was not happy. Dream-me panicked, disturbed at the sight of Elise's face transposed on Natalya's body. When she spoke, it was in the strangest combination of both Elise's and Natalya's voices, and I can remember her (their?) words clearly, "What the hell do you think you're doing, Alex(ei)? Why can't you choose? I thought you loved me. You told me you loved me, didn't you? Well? Then who's she?" I stammered over my words, choked and couldn't produce a single damn sound, and she/they continued to berate me, "Are you so stupid as to realize you couldn't have both of us? Choose! CHOOSE! FOR HER SAKE!"

Natalya/Elise held the bundle right up to my face, and I promptly saw that it was a small husky pup, nervously crying. I recognized it as my daughter from a dream I had had months prior, and upon inspecting in again, while I had assumed it was Natalya's, there was no way I could say that it wasn't Elise's. Dream-me just stared, unsure of what to do. "We sense your indecision Alex(ei). We will leave you in peace for now, but soon you must make your choice. Or you will be left in pieces."

My eyes shot open, looking straight up at the ceiling of my hotel room in Vancouver. My mind was racing. What the hell was that? Maybe it was my internal guilty conscience trying to make as physical of an appearance as it could? The worst part of it all was, I knew it was all the truth. I love Natalya more than anything; she's perfect for me. The only issue is that I really do love Elise too, and with that said, it was inhumanly difficult to resist her when we were in Canada, and that's why I acquiesced essentially without a fight. To be honest, even I didn't have that little faith in myself before I left on that trip. I knew I was gonna screw up, but telling her I loved her and sleeping with her on the first night blew away all my expectations of idiocy, and basically cemented my unfaithfulness.

I rolled my head to my right, and checked the clock on the nightstand. 6:30 A.M. Perfect, about the time I would need to get up anyway. I had a long day of interrogation, investigation, and possibly even gunplay ahead of me. But alas, I looked to my left, saw Elise snuggled up to me, one arm draped over my chest and one of her legs extended over mine, sleeping peacefully with her head almost touching mine, a content smile on her unconscious face, I decided to give myself another five minutes. The other members of my team would appreciate the added rest, and Marek Zlin could wait a little longer tied up in the cramped trunk of our team limo. Sorry, bud. It builds character.

Five minutes turned into ten, and then ten turned into fifteen, and then I decided we actually needed to get up, cus it was starting to get late. I carefully removed her arm and leg from my body and noiselessly rolled out of bed, cautious not to wake Elise, who was not needed for the day's first objective. Of course, this would have gone better had I accounted for the fact that she was leaning on me, so as it went, as soon as I got up she promptly rolled over onto her face. The whole thing happened rather comically, and I covered my mouth to keep myself from laughing, before turning away to quickly get dressed. She probably wouldn't be sleeping like that for long. I sent text messages to Travis and Manny to make sure they were up as well. Making Zlin cry was going to be a team effort.

For my part, I was surprised I could even walk that morning. I had had a tremendously long day and night the day before, and then Elise came out of nowhere and provided me with probably the best sex I had ever had. For real, it was like an hour in heaven. I pulled on some benign clothes, a grey hooded sweatshirt and matching sweatpants, and tried not to think about the previous night's excitement. Before I could get anywhere, however, Elise's awkward position caught up to her, and I could make out her eyes drowsily opening over the pillow she was practically falling off of. I started silently padding toward the door, and out of the corner of my eye I saw her arm reach out and feel around the bed, and upon finding nothing, she turned over, somehow looking directly at me, then saying slowly and tiredly, "Oi, where you goin', luv?" "I'm going down to give Marek Zlin a wakeup call," I replied. "'n' ya thought ye'd leave without sayin' g'bye?" "I didn't want to wake you." "Wake me, my arse. C'mere."

I stepped over to the edge of our bed as Elise propped herself up on one arm and then reclined against the headboard, beckoning me and sliding her arms around my neck. I hugged her back, holding her close before kissing her forehead, then her lips. We professed our love for each other, as was becoming frighteningly customary, and she asked me what I was going to do to Zlin, and I responded honestly that I didn't know; it all depended on him. I glanced downward, observed my lover's bare chest and added facetiously, "Although you could probably convince him just as quickly as we could with your... assets." "Uh-uh," she uttered, shaking her head from side to side, then pointing at her bust, "For your eyes only." "Oh? Just my eyes?" I asked, surreptitiously sliding a paw from behind her back to the body part in question. In a stunning display of physical prowess I didn't think Elise in the morning was capable of, I felt my wrists being grabbed, then I was pulled on top of her, who was now lying on her back. "It's a figure of speech, love. You can 'observe' them with anything you like," she said to me playfully, moving her paws behind my head again.

We started kissing again, but before we could really get anywhere, I stopped and pulled back, explaining that I had to go. "No you don't, the world can wait," Elise insisted pulling me back and keeping me held more tightly, then sliding one paw to the front of my body and down under the waistband of my sweatpants. I actually had to stop it here. Believe me, if I could have had it my way, I would've spent all day in bed with her, but I just didn't have time right then. I pulled off more forcefully, and told her something along those lines, granting me a crestfallen look in response. I sat at the edge of the bed and asked why she was acting that way. It's not like she was unaware of my profession before we went on the trip. She sat up and sat next to me, stroking one of my paws, "Just because I know and understand what you do doesn't mean I like it." She reached onto the nightstand and retrieved her heart pendant, "And until Mansfield lets me into the field for real, I have no way of actually being there with you. So, that's why I want you to wear this. Because if it stays safe, that means so do you."

She put it around my neck and tucked it in to my sweatshirt, "Promise you'll come back to me in one piece?" "Elise, it's just an interrogation. I'm gonna be fine." "Famous last words, love." "Alright, be a pessimist. I'll be back in a few minutes." "I love you." "Love you too." I kissed her one last time before grabbing my twin Glocks, sticking them in the paw-warmer-pocket-thing in the front of my sweatshirt, and walking out the door. I was greeted by two less-than-amused faces.

"Yo, dude, what kept you?" the voice of Travis Langley assailed me, "We've been waiting out here for like, ten minutes." "Sorry. Needy dingo in the room," I explained as we started making our way to the hotel garage. "You say that like it's a bad thing," Manny commented, rolling his eyes, "I'd love to have a room alone with my girl while on missions. In fact, I'd even settle for having a girl, period. Instead, all I've got in my base camp is my very sober best friend and a gay dude." We continued on our journey as I questioned, "And what exactly is inherently wrong with either of those?" "Blake's obnoxious. You know that." "So? What does that have to do with his sexual preference?" Travis inquired. "He's obnoxious about that too." "Haven't noticed," I refuted. "Nope, me either," Travis agreed. The cheetah grumbled as we stepped through the door into the parking garage and walked to our limo, the cool Canadian morning air only somewhat disrupted by our sweats.

We stood behind the cramped trunk, and Travis produced three black ski masks. Manny asked what they were for, and the fox simply replied, "Funsies." Manny shrugged and pulled the mask over his face, as did I. Travis pulled the keys to the car from his pocket and popped the trunk, revealing one very terrified, long-haired wolf twitching inside. Travis pulled the blindfold off of Zlin, tossed it aside, and propped one of his feet up on the lip of the trunk, calling out, "Good morning Zlin. Or should we say Miroslav Janosik?" Zlin grew more and more frightened, literally shaking in his boots, and Travis carried on, using this to his advantage, "Now look, buddy, I can be a good guy," he flicked open his switchblade and held the edge close to the wolf's face, "Or I can be one mean sonofabitch. It's all up to you, pal."

Zlin was literally crying at this point, the gag in his mouth muffling his desperate whimpering, while Manny and I were snickering behind our masks. We pulled him out of the trunk and forced him into the passenger compartment of the limo and sitting him down on one of the seats. Travis pushed the blunt side of the knife to the corner of Zlin's mouth and gently drew a line up toward his ear, "Why so serious, Zlin? I'll tell you what: I'll do some impromptu plastic surgery on you, and you'll be smiling all the time. Call it a gift from the city of Glasgow." He paused, letting the cool edge of the blade press against Zlin's fur before speaking again, "So what's it going to be then, eh?" The wolf was already broken, halfway convulsing from fear and intimidation, proving that movie and literary references can break a fur down just as much as physical torture.

Manny pulled the gag out of his mouth, a trickle of blood coming with it from where the gag dug into his gums. "Start talking," the cheetah ordered. The wolf sat motionless, his head hung over his chest and his now sweaty and greasy hair dangling over his face, clinging to his snout in places due to the perspiration and lacrimation. If someone had walked in at that moment, they could have reasonably thought he was dead. He was barely even breathing, like he had nearly given up on life. That might explain his utterance of, "I know nothing." Manny snapped his head so it was pointing right at him, and Travis looked unsurely at me before pressing the knife to Zlin's face again, with the sharp side this time. He made a small cut on his cheek and Marek grimaced in pain, yet still refused to talk. Wonderful. We had psyched him out too hardcore.

I blame Anthony Burgess, but that's just me.

So, since our interrogation wasn't exactly going like clockwork, ironically I guess, I figured we needed a change in strategy. Zlin was too resigned to his fate to spill the beans directly, so I came up with something different: misdirection, tricking him into saying the right things. Obviously not the kind of "enhanced interrogation" that Manny and Travis were used to. I also liked my idea better because I wasn't really accustomed to physical torture. In the Mafiya, we had people for that. That wasn't my thing really. So I stepped in, ready to work this guy's brain. Oh yeah. Hier kommt Alex.

I motioned for Travis to step aside and I crouched down in front of Zlin so my face was parallel with his, "Hi there Marek, my name is Leo. I understand my friends have been difficult with you, but I'm looking at a different course of action." -I pulled off his blindfold- "You're terrorists," he said when he first observed us in our jackets and ski masks. I had to laugh, "No, no, buddy, you're a terrorist. You work for Kossenko don't you?" "I- yes." "So don't you know what Lebowski is planning?" Zlin hesitated, "I don't know anything about this 'Lebowski' you speak of." "Well that's strange considering you've been close enough to those under Lebowski's employ to have romantic interest in them, like CSIS double agent Marissa Deveaux." "What? I've never even heard that name in my life!" "Oh, right, you probably only know her as June Lynch." Marek gave a wry smile, "Do you really think she still works for you? She's told us all your secrets. We operate in your country without having to worry about anything."

Alright, that confirmed that assumption. Marissa was a bad guy. But I could work with that. And there was the fact that he thought we were with the Canadian government, because apparently Travis' and Manny's voices definitely fell under that stereotype. No use fighting that one though, it didn't really matter so long as he told us what we needed to know.

I continued my questioning, "So you know she's an agent, but you never knew her real name? Doesn't that sound sketchy to you?" "I... guess not? Why?" "Has it ever occurred to you that she might be playing your organizations as well?" "W-what do you mean?" "She was born and raised here. Do you really think that she'd turn on her loyalties here on such short notice? What kind of offer did you give her?" "We pay her, of course. More than you government people care to. And she seems to take it gladly." "Usually I like it when people pay me inordinate amounts for nothing just to backstab them too." Zlin angrily stared at me for a few seconds. I could practically see the gears turning in his head, and that was good. He needed to think in order to fall into the trap. "So if she's just going to backstab us, then what the hell is she waiting for?" "There's one thing that's holding her back, Marek: love." And there was the piece de resistance. Zlin's brain half short-circuited. It was kinda funny.

The shaggy wolf snapped at me, "What, with Lebowski?! Is that a joke?! She fucks him for power, just like everyone else in his damn harem. Why would you even tell me this? Are you trying to piss me off just by reminding me of every time she's gone to bed with that asshole?" Well, to put it succinctly, yes, yes I was. And I dare say I succeeded. "I'm telling you this because she's not in love with Lebowski, you moron. She's in love with you." "That's not true... If this was true, then why have I been ignored for so long?" "She can't risk blowing her cover. Lebowski wouldn't want her having you on the side, would he? Wouldn't that compromise his narcissistic power trip?" "No, that little shit's too controlling. She doesn't have any free will with him." I crouched down so I was eye to eye with Zlin, "So there you go. She can't get close to you; it's too dangerous. So she watches from afar, just like you do. She's waiting for the moment when she can get both you and her out so you can run off together, away from the crime and away from the politics. Don't you want much of the same?"

Zlin's head hung low, "I... yes... I want that too. But... how do you know these things? How did she tell you?" I had accomplished a lot in getting him to this point. I had established a common enemy and provided him a motive to comply, but I had to take one more risk. It was a little too dangerous to try an outright lie with the information, so I decided to stretch the truth and hope he didn't get even more depressed, "Er... I don't know how to say this, but, Marissa- I mean, June, has had to do a lot of things to collect information in the past. To put it bluntly, we fooled around last night, but before you get upset, let me tell you what happened afterwards. I told her where I was from and why I was there, and she cried, and cried, and then she told me everything. Look, Marek, something bad is going to happen if we don't stop it right here, right now. This is your chance to save millions of people, one of whom happens to be the love of your life. All you need to do is tell me what you know."

For the first time during the entire interrogation, he looked into my eyes with no fear and no false bravado. Jackpot. "I only run finances. And even as this, only finances for Kossenko. So I know nothing of Lebowski's plans, but I can tell you where the money went. There is a black market group based out of Vladivostok that Lebowski, and therefore Kossenko, have been funneling money into. The male who runs it is named Karamazov. This is an alias, and I regret to inform you that I do not know his true identity. However, if you can get into the Ernest-Wilkes network, all financial transactions can be traced. The password for the monetary files is "C187FQ9", and all payments to Karamazov are under the name of a fictional company, Dostok Industries. I do not know much about his security except that his forces are vast compared to most corporate bosses, and they are based out of a facility about halfway to his mansion up the coast. In conversations I've overheard, which are few, I have heard him mention something about 'New Canadian Patriotism'. I don't know if that helps any. That is the extent of what I know. Please, if what you say is true, please keep June safe."

I clasped his shoulder firmly and told him he had the word of the Canadian government. I then backed away, told Manny and Travis to watch Zlin, grabbed a phone from its holder on one of the walls of the limo and stepped outside to make a call. "Canadian Security Intelligence Service, this is Jean-Luc Gautier's office, how may I assist you today?" came the response of an overly-sweet-sounding receptionist. Personally I prefer more blunt and realistic secretaries, like Mansfield's. But you already knew that, didn't you? "Tell Gautier he has a Priority One call from Frozen Glacier." "Priority One? Are you su-" "Yes I'm sure, get him on the line." "Oh-o-okay, yes sir..." Fuckin' government bureaucracy. Even in the intelligence services, because why the hell not?

The CSIS male's voice came through after a couple of seconds, "ST 13, what can I do for you today?" "We have Marek Zlin, and he's already been interrogated. We're through with him for now, and he needs to be locked up until a retrieval unit from Washington can come and get him." Gautier was flabbergasted, almost like he had never seen actual efficient work done before, "What? You're already done with him? You haven't even been in-country for 24 hours!" "Why yes, we have accomplished in less than a day what you've been trying to do for months, thanks for the recap. Also your girl on the inside's a double agent, just a heads up. Other than that you guys are phenomenal, keep up the good work." Gautier made some attempts at choking out words, "Deveaux... Double agent?" "Yeah," I replied nonchalantly, "She's in bed with Lebowski, figuratively and literally. Has been for months." "I-I've already called in INSET-Vancouver. They'll be there in a few minutes," the operative stated, slowly regaining his composure. "Thanks, we'll put you in touch with our retrieval team once they get here, Frozen Glacier out." I ended the call, wildly grinning to myself. I love my team. We get shit done.

Before I went into the limo, I decided to ring up Mansfield. No need to deal with the receptionist on this one, I had his personal number. Perk of being a purported master killer. "What's up, Pavlov," the Rottweiler on the other end of the line inquired casually. "Would you mind sending a prisoner retrieval unit up to BC? We've got Marek Zlin and were hoping you could take him off our paws." "That seems to be in order, I'll send them as soon as I can. Svrbada's been sending me reports of your progress. You're doing well, keep up the good work," Mansfield said, building my self-esteem a bit. I thanked him, and he continued, "Before I let you go again, I would just like to ask why you made today the first time you've actually used my personal number during office hours and not gone through the main line." I opened my mouth to make words and found that I couldn't. Oh the irony. It burned. But YOU guys can quit judging me. I like Elise. This has been established. "Pavlov, I'd like to remind you that Elise has a cell phone. With that said, I think it's time you got back to saving the world," Mansfield semi-reprimanded me. It was a little tongue-in-cheek, but still. I got served. I swore under my breath as he ended the call, then went back into the limo to wait until RCMP arrived.

*****

A few minutes later, Travis, Manny and I met up with Pavel and Kris in the hotel restaurant, where the two of them were eating breakfast. We sat down with them and ordered food ourselves, and then naturally I asked where Elise and Blake were. Kris informed us that they had gone up to their rooms. "Scandalous," was Travis' response, which was largely ignored. Just as I had naturally asked where the other members of our team were, Pavel naturally asked us what went down with Zlin, which we spent the next few minutes rehashing.

After all of this had been said, Pavel asked what the plan for the day was, and I suggested we start off by doing some industrial espionage at the Ernest-Wilkes headquarters to see what we could find about this Karamazov guy and maybe get some more intel on our situation as a whole, so we decided to meet in Blake's room again to fine tune the plan in about half an hour. We got up from the table and went our separate ways.

After a short trip I opened the door to my room and saw Elise in her white bathrobe facing the window at the other side of the room looking through her suitcase. I closed the door and placed my guns and the ski mask I had borrowed on the table by the door, then stepped over and slid my arms around Elise's waist. "Hello," I said softly, pressing my snout onto her neck. She held my arms tighter and leaned back into me, "G'day, love. How was work this morning?" "Productive," I said, continuously shifting the position of my paws, "we have a briefing in half an hour in Blake's room. We're gonna investigate Ernest-Wilkes, see what connections we can make." "Ugh, alright," she complained, "Never time for any fun. I'm going to have a shower, I look terrible." "Nonsense, you're the most beautiful sight in this whole damn city," I corrected. She tinged slightly red, then contorted herself so she could kiss me on the cheek, "I love you, Alex, but I really do have to go clean up." I reluctantly let her go, then proceeded to take my sweatshirt off and get ready to go to the meeting when Elise interrupted my process again.

"You know, you'll probably want to have one too. And a wise male once posed a question to me: 'if I need a shower and you need a shower, why don't we save some water and shower together?' I think it'll save some time, as well," the dingo proposed, seductively looking over her shoulder and tugging at the strips of cloth that composed the knot holding the sides of the robe together. Inexplicably, for the second time that morning, I was speechless. My jaw went slack and I dropped the sweatshirt in my paws as my at that moment in time preferred girlfriend pressed the issue, "So what's your answer? Would you like to join me?" I numbly nodded my head, and Elise gave a devilish smile, turned to face me, slipped the robe off her shoulders and onto the floor, and ordered, "Then c'mere, lover."

And she said there was never any time for fun.

Manny

Shit was like day-ja-voo.

Alex shows up late for his own meeting, again, and with Elise holding onto his arm with her head held high like she had just conquered a goddamn mountain. You know what man? I've seen Alex before. He don't got no goddamn mountain, and bit' needs to calm down. With that said, this whole Alex-Elise bing-bang-fuckaroo bullshit was only aggravating my frustration at work for the day. I mean, undercover spying whatever? The fuck did I sign up for, the motherfuckin' CIA? There's a reason why our team has a dude who GOT KICKED OUT OF AN INTELLIGENCE ORGANIZATION. It ain't what we're good at people, come on.

So Alex and Elise took their spots, the rest of us took ours, and Pavel started talking about our first operation for the day. "So, after gaining information from our friend Marek Zlin, we've determined that our next course of action is to further explore Ernest-Wilkes and it's connection to this 'Karamazov' fur," the wolf recounted, "Now, we can't risk sending in anyone who could have been seen during Zlin's capture just in case anyone recognizes them, so that leaves the job of infiltrating to Manny and Blake." Zippity fuckin' doo dah. I got to go undercover with the queer eye for the straight team. "This plan is not too complicated," Pavel continued, "You two walk in under the guise of a potential partnership with Lebowski's firm, slip by unnoticed to the archives, which I have determined to be on the 23rd floor, plug me into the system, I take their stuff so I can track it, you guys leave, it's all very simple."

"Uh-huh," Travis commented unenthusiastically, "and when the happy couple over there are snoopin' around, what, exactly are we doin'?" "Alex and Kris will take a position at a bench outside the building in case things go awry, you'll be waiting in the team limo for exfil, and I was planning on going in guns blazing with a machine gun and a bandolier," Pavel explained dryly. "God damn," Travis complained, "it's like I got put into this whole thing just so I could be the DD. Also, funny joke, but 'heavy weapons Banzai charge' generally falls under my job description too." "Sorry to intrude on your life, Travis. And you are the best driver. If you aren't the 'DD' then who would be?"

A rather sly grin formed over Travis' face, then he snickered and pointed his thumb backwards over his shoulder at the least important member of our team, mentioning that the title would be quite "fitting". Get it? Because Elise has big knockers, and, and, DD's are big knockers! Aw sheeit, Travis, you are one funny guy. But no really I have a straight face now, and I had a straight face then. I mean, maybe I thought it was a little funny on the inside, but dayum, son, lay off Elise some. I mean, she already has the constant weight of bein' under Alex all the time. And that's humor. Not stupid, not provocative cus I ain't stupid enough to say that to that she-devil's face, just good ol' cuttin' wit. And you know what? While I'm at it? "Never play poker with a cheetah" jokes need to go. Yeah, it's the fuckin' name of our race. It sounds like cheater. You should do stand-up.

Maybe, after I'm done killing people for a living, I'll write an advice column or somethin'. I mean, I got it all: jokes, relationships, dirty deeds done dirt cheap. I am an abundance of knowledge. Damn straight. Of course I say all this to avoid explaining how Elise got all pissy at Travis for his comment, and I'll just leave it that she was upset, Travis was scared, and a certain husky was just... distressed. "Can we stop? Please? The faster we get through this the faster you two can be separated," Alex sighed. Elise angrily crossed her arms and slumped back against the couch, and Travis appeared intimidated as he turned back and faced Pavel again. "Look, I'll... just walk you through it when we're there," Pavel said unenthusiastically.

And that set the awkward tone for the day.

*****

So Stripey Fleabait and I walked into the Ernest-Wilkes building, and I have to admit, it was a nice place. Glass everywhere, modern-ish designs, looked exactly like the front for a villainous organization. Pavlov said it looked like a base for "Abstergo". I have no idea what that motherfucker was talking about. Our strategy, as planned by Pavel and previously stated, was to approach the company directly using our aliases so it wouldn't be weird for two random guys walking through the building. Of course my response to this was "Ayo, fuck that shit, we can just walk right in." Yeah. No need to overcomplicate anything, we just go in and deal with it. I explained this revolutionary way of thinking to Pavel, and he didn't exactly agree with it. "You can't just bust in! They have an entire security force here, and you're not even armed!"

Okay, first off, we were armed. I had my shock pen and Sly's gay cousin had Kris' dart gun thing. No, we weren't armed to a "Travis walking by Elise's desk" level of preparedness, but we could defend ourselves against a couple goons. Second, and much more importantly, we weren't gonna go in guns blazing. That would be retarded. Instead, the intelligent thing to do would be to just walk in, go to the archives, and get the stuff. This was not the CIA. Nobody was walking around with badges for identification or nothin'. Which, probably was not the smartest thing, either. But hey, they're the bad guys, who gives a fuck? Blake agreed with me on this issue, adding, "We're not actors. There's a reason we were the guys on the roof during the Deveaux/Zlin bit."

Pavel eventually realized that there was really nothing he could do if neither of us wanted to play by his rules, so he backed off. We went straight for the elevator, and went up to the floor Pavel had designated as the one containing the archives. After a couple minutes of walking, we found it relatively easily, in a low traffic area of the office, with only one guard stationed there. The ease of it all was somewhat disconcerting. Next to the door to the archives was a keycard reader, the first real sign of security we'd seen so far. I walked up to the reader, getting me a raised eyebrow from the guard, patted down my own pockets, made an incredulous expression, and started to explain that I had left my card at my office, asking if he could just open the door for me. I feel like I was the worst guy for the job. Anyway, the cervine guard slowly moved his hoof toward his gun and said he'd never seen me before. I was gonna try 'n' explain my way out of it, but before I could the deer grabbed at his neck and then slumped to the ground.

I looked to the side at Blake, who was casually holding Kris' keychain. "Ay man whadda fuck? I was finna talk our way outta this shit, an' you come in here just shootin dart guns everywhere! I had this bih!" I calmly explained. "Are you kidding? He was about to cap you," Blake responded negatively. He then removed the guards badge and tried sliding it through the reader. It worked. The door unlocked, and I went inside, but Blake stayed out for a few seconds pulling the dart out of the guy's neck, so that anyone who walked by would think he just fell asleep. Following Pavel's instructions, we found a place to put his gadget in and he started doing his hacking shit, and Elise put everyone on the same comm channel so we wouldn't be bored while we were waiting.

She kicked off the conversation, "Well that went well. You should do this spy rubbish more often." "Drop the sarcasm. Or we'll make you come down here and do it. I'm sure you could persuade guards more easily than we could anyway," Blake shot back too meanly, something that happened too much when Elise was involved. She screamed Alex's name, something that at least got her credit for professionalism. "Jesus Christ. Elise, don't be snarky, Blake, don't be a dick. We should not have to be doing this," our team leader stepped in, making it the first time I can remember him actually calling Elise's bullshit. Word on the street is she saw his balls for the first time that night. Would make sense. Lord knows I ain't seen 'em.

I decided to change the subject to something none of us really knew about: Blake. "So, ah, Blake, do you have a, like, boyfriend that we don't know about?" He kinda stared at me blankly, then smirked, "Noooo. Why? Interested?" He approached me uncomfortably closely and I explained, "Ey, look man, ya ain't my type." He got closer and very, very fucking uncomfortably put his paw on my chest, "Oh? And why is that?" "BECAUSE YOU GOT A GODDAMN PENIS, MAN! Dammit, the fuck you doin? Yo freakin me out with that shit," I just short of yelled, swatting his paw away. His weird, almost... sultry look changed to one of embarrassment as he stepped away, "I, uh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for it to get weird. I was just joking. If you ever change your mind though..." And then that sonofabitch winked at me. God dammit Blake.

Nobody said anything for the next minute or so, then Travis awkwardly tried to break the awkwardness, "Alright, soooo, The Avengers is comin' out in about a month. Anybody else excited? I'm excited. No? Nothing?" "Valiant effort, Travis," Kris consoled, probably shaking his head as he said it. Thankfully, Pavel got on and informed us that he was finished doing his thing, and he asked what he had missed. "I'm... not exactly sure," Elise spoke, "I think Blake tried to hit on Manny? Maybe?" "Hi Pavel this whole thing is super awkward can we leave now," Alex chimed in in a deadpan voice. "...Right, yes, Blake and Manny should be clear to leave the premises at this time." Collective sigh of relief.

And so Stripey and I left the room, to be immediately greeted, to our happy surprise, by a second guard. Whose gun was in my face. "Who the fuck are you and what did you do to Derek," a puma in a similarly generic getup as the pacified deer asked tersely. "Whoa whoa whoa, hold up there sir. Let's just put the gun down and talk about this. Derek just fell asleep on the job, it happens," I said slowly, with my paws in the air. Guard #2 was freakin out, "I've known Derek for 15 goddamn fucking years and he's never fallen asleep on the- ugh, errrrnngvshj." He slumped to the ground, with a dart in his neck. "Holy shit, dude needed to chill out," Blake said from behind me. "Dammit son! I had that motherfucker, again! The fuck you doin jumpin in? And how in the hell do you hit people square in the neck every single time with a motherfuckin keychain?!" "Because I'm the sniper on the best team in the world. It's my job to hit impossible shots. Now let's move, or I might start getting antsy again."

"Aw, Kris, didja hear that? He said we're the best team in the world," Alex said with exaggerated, sarcastic enthusiasm, "I think we've finally gotten through to Blake's heart!" "Manny has at least," Travis added, like a fool who was asking for it. I was definitely not having it anymore, and by the time we got back to the limo that was our ride out, the only thing keeping me from bustin' Travis', stupid-ass head open was the fact that he was driving. In the end, I can't really say I held anything against Blake for that day. Especially since that was still just the beginning of it for all of us.

Elise

Alex yelled at me. What the fuck.

I mean, I guess he didn't yell at me, but he didn't come rushing to my defense either. This is something I'm... not exactly used to. Surely he was just stressed out. He still loves me, right?

Of course he does! Because I live in a fairytale and everything's right fuckin' bonzer! I waited for him in our room when he got back, and he walked in and promptly threw himself face down on the bed, groaning into the mattress. How rude. I was standing by the window at the time, so I went over the bed, and because I'm just a forgiving saint, I straddled his back and began massaging his shoulders, and asked him what was wrong. Yeah, I'm a better girlfriend than you'll ever have or be. Get over it.

He had to put the stuffy sweats from that morning back on because of his cover too, so he was still in those at the time. That made working from the hotel seem a little better at least; I still got to wear my normal "office" attire. He moaned out a rhetorical question, asking why our team seemed so dysfunctional. I responded that it's probably because we're like a family, and that family members bicker and piss each other off sometimes. I muttered "I should know" before I could stop myself as well. He did his best to look up at me from his prone position and asked what I meant by that. "Nothing" "Elise, tell me. What's going on?" "Really, it's nothing." "Elise, come on. If something's hurting you I want to know." "Alex, really, I don't want to talk about it right now." He reached over with one of his paws and slid it over mine, and sensing what he wanted, I got off him and sat on the edge of the bed. He followed shortly, wrapping me up in his arms and nuzzling my neck. I couldn't resist, so I hugged him back, but told him that Pavel said we'd need to strike another target by the end of the day, most likely the base of Lebowski's security. "Well, we won't want to hit the base until nightfall probably, so we still have plenty of time to formulate a strategy later. Which leaves us time right now. Whatever shall we do?" he asked in a fake-innocent tone.

"Ugh, get back on the bed, dipstick," I said, playfully pushing him down then crawling on top of him. I softly kissed him, then pulled back. "You know, on second thought, you should take your shirt off. Don't want you to get to hot down there. And hey, if anything else comes off that's fine too." "Miss McAlester, you're trying to seduce me, aren't you?" "No, of course not. I just want you to be as comfortable as possible." "Elise, we did it in the shower last time. There is literally no way this can be any less comfortable." "Er, well, true... Also hey, I got one of your references, with the Mrs. Robinson thing!" "That's not the name of the movie, but whatever. Points to you anyway." He kissed me, and I countered, "It isn't? There is definitely something called Mrs. Robinson." "Yeah. It's a Simon & Garfunkel song. Movie's called The Graduate. I swear, at some point I'm gonna sit you down and just feed pop culture knowledge into your head." "Maybe that will be when you actually let me come to your house." "Hey now, that's your boss's house too. And I don't see you inviting me to yours." "Fuck that, Shadowstep's not my boss. And you can come anytime, love." "Yeah he is, since you're part of ST13 now. Also, I'm technically your boss too, since I'm squad leader." "Yeah? Are you going to abuse that power by telling me to do something silly?" "Oh, we'll see about that. Depends on how you behave." "Oh come off it! Fuckin' take yer bloody clothes off you whacka!"

He smirked and then started pulling my shirt off. "Oi! What the fuck, mate? I said your clothes!" "Yep, ya did. But I'm the one giving the orders now, aren't I?" "Sonofabitch..." I muttered, proceeding to finish his job for him, "There? Are ye quite pleased now?" He squinted his eyes as if in deep thought, then reached behind my back and gave a pinch, lightning quick. I looked at him skeptically, then suddenly felt a little less... supported. Oh. Sneaky little bugger. He grinned at my dawning comprehension, "Heh, now I am." He flipped me over so I was on my back and he was on top of me, and started kissing me. I held his face in my paws, and between embraces, asked him if he still loved me. He gave that quiet, powerful, heroic smile that only he can produce and said, "Of course I do." I returned his smile, pulled him in, and let the moment take its course.

Yeah, he still loved me. Success.

Travis

Hoooooly fuckin shit what just happened.

That was my reaction at least. I mean, to everything, god_damn_. Alex gets whatshisface to say everything using the power of love more effectively than Huey Lewis AND the goddamn News, then Blake tries to like, dry hump Manny on the job, and and somehow I am SURE Alex is like four rooms down bangin' the ever-loving shit out of the girl that brutally shot me down every time there's a break in the action. That sounded worse than I meant it. Especially that last part. I don't resent her. At least, not like that.

Alright, to come completely clean, I do still resent her a little. I mean, she was the first person I'd actually approached as a real relationship since, I dunno, like the tenth grade or something. She accepted, and she ended it after the first date, after blabbing about Alex the whole time. She broke my heart, and I'm not ashamed to say that. I was a tad shaken though, and that set me on this path of, y'know, what I had been doing before was right all along. Love's a lie, and it should go fuck itself. By the time I was in Canada, it was a little better, but I still wasn't about to go chasin' goddamn fairies and unicorns. I'd take the sluts that I could pick up for free, and when I was in someplace where I didn't have old school connections, I'd take the sluts that I could pay for.

Y'know, sometimes I wish I had something to fight for. Something wholesome, I mean. Kris is the only guy with a mate. Not eighteen girlfriends like Alex, but an honest-to-god wife. He comes to work every day because he wants a safe world for her, and when he has kids, he wants a safe world for them to grow up in. I kind imagine anything more noble. Unfortunately, I've given up on this for myself. Love, families, kids... It's not in the cards. I'm not even searchin' anymore. No use pretendin'. Instead, I fight for the material. I fight for the money. I fight for the bitches in the one night stands. I fight because it's my job to walk in to some house of scum with a machine gun and cleanse the gene pool at 700 rounds a minute, so maybe even though I'm destined for a life of shit, Kris's kids, and Manny's kids, and Pavel's and Alex's and hell, maybe even Blake's if he adopts can all have a happy life. And I don't need Elise to tell me anything about that.

But you don't read my section of the story for the heavy shit, do you? So I'll keep my feelings to myself and return to being the carefree badass you know and love. When I got back to me and Pavel's room after the op, he was still pluggin' away at his computer, trying to decipher all the intel Manny and Blake got from the HQ. First thing I did was get out of my limo driver getup. Terrible. Then I thought, you know what, maybe we could have some fun tonight, pending any world-saving that we might have to do.

"Yo Pav," I started out, "Wanna go out tonight?" "Are you serious? I'm looking at stuff that might have a connection to nuclear weapons right now," he responded negatively, "Is this really a good time?" "I mean, the mission comes first obviously, but I think we deserve some release or something you know," I defended. "Wait, release? What exactly are you talking about?" "Whaddaya think I'm talkin' about? I don't have the same connections I do in DC, but I know this place, right? And the girls are-" "NO," Pavel cut me off, "FUCK. NO. I'm in a committed relationship, Travis. I don't know if you were going for strippers, or hookers, or what, but no." "Okay, for starters, hookers. Go big or go home," I started to explain, before he interrupted again, "Big? Didn't think you went for the larger girls." "Pavel, that is not what I meant, and you know it. And as for your committed relationship, quite frankly pal, bullshit. You're more committed with Toni than you are with your actual girlfriend, so you're already cheating. What's wrong with some extra poon while we're here?" "Because I'm planning on breaking it off with Stacey soon so I can be with Toni full-time, but it's a touchy subject considering they're best friends. I don't want to throw another girl into the mix. My name is not Alexei Pavlov."

Well, shit. He got me there. "Okay, well yeah, point taken. Do you wanna just dick around Vancouver then, time permitting?" "Eh, we'll see. We might have more important things to do." "Like?" "I've been analyzing this Karamazov stuff, couldn't get much of a trace on the guy himself, but there's lots of funds being transferred to him via executive level access of Ernest-Wilkes-" "Lebowski." "Exactly. These are all the funds that have been going in and out of Vladivostok as a hub. Final locations are unknown, I mean the money's being bounced all around Siberia, there's no way to track it. Not much here regarding communications, but what there is does point to something big, most likely a nuclear weapon that's somewhere along the Siberian coastline." "Is that all we've got? Siberia's a big fuckin' place, Pavel." "Unfortunately yes. Lebowski and Kossenko are covering their tracks very effectively."

I was practically over his shoulder now, trying to make sense of the crazy stuff on his computer screen, "And Kossenko? Where does he fit into this?" "My best guess is that he's providing all of the security in Russia, where Lebowski doesn't have much influence. Kossenko's men are watching wherever this nuke is being held, and for all we know, he could have more agents here. In case you forgot, Marek Zlin was part of Kossenko's organization under the temporary employ of Lebowski. Who knows who else is here? Your girlfriend perhaps?" "Funny. I feel like Igor doesn't particularly care enough about Lebowski to send Anastasia in. She seems like his secret weapon of some sorts." Pavel thought for a moment, and then responded, "I agree that Lebowski is not of Kossenko's highest concern, but when considering Anastasia, I think we might be. Think about it. She just happened to be there both in the Virgin Islands and at the warehouse in Washington. She might be his secret weapon, but what's a higher priority target for him than us? Maybe I'm wrong. You're the expert on her."

"Pavel, joke's not getting any better. That worries me though. He has to know we're here, so she could be in country right now? If she's in the mix things could get a lot more difficult. I've got more questions though." "Go for it." "Why hire Kossenko to transport the nuke? Why couldn't Karamazov do it himself?" "I think Karamazov is just the dealer. Once a weapon is out of his possession, it's none of his concern. That's why you get the best mafiya boss in Russia to take care of it." "Okay, and I'm assuming we're not even going to try simply arresting Lebowski right?" "What would be the point of that? CSIS has effectively been worthless, and the police couldn't use our evidence against him because it was illegally acquired." "I mean, that's fine. I wanted some action anyway. So what's the plan for tonight, since you seemed so opposed to having fun?"

"I was thinking about attacking the base of Lebowski's security," Pavel explained, "It would reveal our presence more to the enemy, but at the same time, it would reduce most effective responses to us anyway, which might even force Kossenko's paw, too. Ultimately though, it's Pavlov's decision. I told Elise to let him know, but I don't know what... obstructions are in her mouth right now to prevent that. We should definitely strike tonight though. I was thinking about calling a meeting later so we could get the details straightened out." "Sounds good, let's do it."

*****

A few hours later, we were in our normal spots. I was sprawled out on the floor, Kris and Manny were on the boxes, Pav was at the desk, Blake was in the comfy chair, and Alex and Elise were holding paws at the edge of the now-bed. The difference in the room from that night and the previous meetings was that there were now pieces of equipment strewn all over the place. That's because we were finally going on a full-out assault. Y'know, what we're actually good at. We weren't getting completely geared up yet, because we still had to make it down to the garage where a Canadian military truck would be picking us up and taking us to the base, but we had assembled all of our stuff and bagged it up so we could get ready quickly once we were in our transportation.

Loadouts looked pretty normal. All of us were in standard black body armor, though I was the only one not wearing a helmet, cus helmets are for pussies, Alex had an M4 and his glocks, Kris had a C7, because he for some reason liked the Canuck weapons we were originally given, Blake had his "baby", the Mk. 12 SPR and a Mac-10 for close quarters, Manny didn't mind some noise, something we agreed on, and was bringing an AA-12 auto shotgun, and I of course had my trusty M249 Para, because there's nothing that can't be solved with a liberal application of machine gun fire. But for the meantime, we were sitting around in our casual clothes, listening to the plan.

"Okay, so, the base is fairly deep in the woods, and there's only one road to get there, and that gets you through the front gate which is heavily guarded," Pavel started out. "Sounds like fun," I said, "We could use a full-on assault every once in a while." "Or not," Alex refuted, "For some reason, I don't feel like having the entire team cut down tonight. Pavel, is there any other way in?" "Well, the perimeter's fenced off, but it doesn't look like there's barbed wire on it or anything so you could just climb over it," Pavel explained. Kris chuckled, "Hopping the fence? What are we, a bunch of teenage kids?" "Uh, yeah," I reminded him, "two out of five of the guys on the actual strike team happen to be teenage kids. Which means that legally Elise has also been raping Alex this whole week. All of this, of course, just food for thought."

"Okay, we get it, Alex and Travis are hormonal teenagers and Elise is a slut. This is nothing new. But we still have a mission to do here," Blake tried to help the situation in his own nonhelpful way, "Pavel have you considered the fence may be electrified?" "Um... Shit," the wolf replied, signaling that no, he didn't. "Nah it's all good guys," Manny added, holding up a tool meant for cutting metal wiring. Alex looked at it skeptically and asked if that would be enough, and Pavel said it'd do the trick, so I guess we had that problem solved. Also somewhere in there Elise gave Blake one of her patented death stares for calling her a slut, but you probably already guessed that, didn't you?

"So other than sneaking in, is there any other part of this plan?" Kris asked. "Well, we don't have much intel on this place so..." "Just fuck up everything that we see once we're in?" I finished for Pavel. "Erm, yes, essentially. Almost anything you do in there will hinder Lebowski's forces." "OH FUCK YEAH I LOVE THIS PLAN," I exclaimed. "You know what? Fuck this shit, I love it too," Manny agreed, slappin my paw in a glorious high-five, "I'm sick of this spying bullshit. I just wanna shoot somethin' already, man." Blake looked around the room and spoke up, "I think we're ready to go then, unless there's anything else we need here." Pavlov pondered the situation, then gave the order to move out, mentioning that we were as ready as we were ever gonna be, and we grabbed our bags of justice and started journeying to the Canuck truck, Elise included.

It wasn't exactly a silent trip. We were all laughing and joking because we were actually gonna see some action. It's kinda funny how "normal" soldiers tend to be quiet and reserved before a fight, and we just don't give a fuck. That's because it takes a special kind of crazy to do our jobs. We climbed into the unmarked truck once we got to the garage, except for Alex and Elise, who did their love shit with the necklace and kissed and all that bullshit. Kris sat down next to me, which was unusual, so I asked what was up. "I'm gonna let Blake and Manny sit together for this one. They need to work some of their issues out I believe," the Doberman explained. "And I take it you'd rather they do that here than in your room at 3 AM," I snickered. "Eh, fuck that, we have a suite. As long as they messed around in Blake's room I wouldn't have a problem with it. Not that that'd be likely or anything. As much as I'd ship that pairing, Manny's the biggest homophobe on the team. It's not happening. On a different note, you're not still mad about Elise are you?"

"I gave up thinking it should be me with her and not Alex months ago, Kris," I said, not particularly excited to talk about the subject. "That's not what I asked," Kris smirked, "I can see it still bugs you. I don't know how you made it anywhere as a spy, you're easier to read than my wife." "Yeah it still bugs me. It's PDA, it bugs everybody," I tersely retorted. "No, PDA bugs everybody who's single. There's a difference. You're moving on past Elise. That's awesome. But as a word of advice from a mated male to a bachelor, you're actually going to have to go out and find your female eventually. Life won't hand her to you. Just keep that in mind." "It seems to work for Alex," I countered Kris' point. "Oh please. Pavlov pisses rainbows and shits lollipops. The universe just kind of smiles on him with these kinds of things, you can't expect to have the same results, no offense." "Kris, I'm stuck settling for bimbos the rest of my life. I've accepted this already," I reiterated, because apparently I'm just a flashing target for relationship advice. "Christ, Langley, you ever listen to the Monkees? It'll all click eventually, I promise you that." "Wait, you mean 'I'm a Believer'? I kinda liked the Smash Mouth version of that better actually," I threw out, trying to change the subject. "Now that you mention it, I liked that version better too. But really don't give up. That's important," Kris replied, not playing along to my strategy.

By this point, Alex had already gotten into the truck and we were underway, gearing up while we were en route to the DZ. Pavlov had been beckoned over by Manny and Blake, whose conversation had apparently already turned awkward enough to warrant third-party intervention, and allowed Kris to continue bugging me. "So Langley, what exactly is the deal with Elise? I mean sure, she's attractive. But what else did you see in her? There had to be something to make you chase her the way you did," Zimmerman pried as I strapped on my equipment. "Well, I mean, she's independent. Like, disregarding Alex and whatnot, she'll stick to what she believes in. I liked the way that she felt like a real person, like what you see is what you get, not like the chicks I normally hang around with that are all fake," I explained, somewhat against my will. "Well if those are the kinds of personality traits you like, and you can't have Elise because Alex already has her, then why not see if she has friends that are similar? Could set you on the right track." "Thank you very much Dr. Phil, are we done picking apart my personal life yet?" I said tiredly. "Yeah, I think I'm done for now," he said calmly before clasping my shoulder, "I'm just trying to help so you can get over this subconscious hate you have for Alex every time we go on mission."

Luckily, he stopped pressing the issue after that, and I was quite relieved. The last thing I want to do before a mission is sit around and talk about my feelings. I already explained it to you guys, I don't care about meaningful relationships anymore. They don't work for me. But something Kris said in there did do something. Hey, maybe I'd even see if Elise did have friends. Which I doubted, because she was either working or attached to Alex every second of her life, but hey, it was worth a shot, right?

We were getting close to the entry point now. I checked my gun, I double-checked my gun. I did the same for my sidearm. I checked all of my armor, the pair of grenades I was carrying, my night-vision equipment, and everything else I could possibly check. I might be the reckless one of the group, and I might have spent the ride over talking to a squadmate about my love life, but in the moments before your boots hit the ground, you really start to remember what you're about to do. You're going to walk into an absurdly hostile environment, bullets are going to be flying at you, and you're going to be taking other peoples' lives. It's heavy shit, and everything about each of us has to be perfect for us to make it back out alive.

Suddenly the vehicle stopped, and after a brief second, Alex ordered everyone out the back of the truck. Manny and Kris were the first ones out. They signaled that we were clear, and Alex, Blake and I followed them. We filed into the woods, parallel to the road but fairly far off it, with Kris leading, followed by Manny, Alex, and I with Blake bringing up the rear. Using night vision, we were able to navigate the forest with relative ease, and we were surprised as well as a bit unnerved that we didn't run into any traps. We were all too familiar with the "too quiet" scenario. Hell, that's the whole reason I was on the team. After a silent, tense walk, the compound came into view. It didn't look too out of the ordinary, as far as supervillain hideouts go. A bunch of buildings bunched together, not much else.

The treeline cut off maybe forty yards from the gates of the base, which was probably done on purpose, and we could clearly see guards looking over the front gate. Luckily, we could follow the trees to the side of the base, where there were no guards. Once we reached what appeared to be a clear area, we dashed from the forest to the fence, and Manny got to work dismantling it. The cheetah got through it quickly, and we went through without an issue.

Once we were inside the base, our main targets were the buildings that were the most important to the OpFor, which were also the ones that happened to be the most highly explosive: the armory and the motor pool. Since the five of us could only carry a limited supply of explosives, the fuel and munitions at those two locations was ideal. We decided to check out the garage first to see if we had a way out in case things went to shit, and found that it was centrally located in the camp. It was a big enough building, and we were thankful for that, considering we had no clue where the armory was. We approached another building (we didn't particularly care what it was) across from the motor pool and stacked up along the side of it, just out of sight of the three-fur patrol that was walking its perimeter. We could've easily taken them out, but in a situation like that, it would've been counterintuitive. This place did not look loosely organized, so guard patrols, especially at night, probably kept constant contact to make sure nothing was going wrong, such as a bunch of super-soldiers busting in and ending them. Because of this, we simply let them pass, and then moved quickly and quietly to a side door of the building, and found the door was unlocked.

Kris carefully opened the door, and Blake and I went into overwatch on either side while the other three went inside, and we followed in behind them, with me closing the door after all of us were in. Luckily, the motor pool appeared devoid of life, so we got to work moving containers of fuel to strategic locations around the vehicles, then started applying C4 to both said containers and vehicles. The blocks of plastic explosive all contained a remote receiver that was linked up to a detonator in Manny's possession so they would all blow at the same time. Normally, the role of button-pusher would fall to me, but unfortunately my paws had to be free in case we needed to jack some transportation, which I'd be driving, of course. Because of this possibility as well as our lack of infinite C4, we left a couple vehicles untouched. They'd take enough damage in the ensuing blast anyway.

With our job in there quickly completed, we made our way back to the door, and Alex asked Pavel over our communications system where the guards were. We waited for Pavel's signal, then Kris reopened the door and we stepped through, closed it again behind us and headed towards a building that Pav thought from his UAV images looked like an armory. Shuffling through the dirt of the compound we saw the building Pavel had singled out, and it did conveniently have a sign that read "armory" over the door. From what we could tell though, there was only one door to this one, and there were four guards, two on each side, that were not moving. We couldn't avoid these guys, so unfortunately for them, they had to go. Only problem was, Pavlov still didn't want us making too much noise, so we couldn't just open up on them.

Our solution to this was taking the scenic route around a couple other buildings in the camp so we would get behind the armory. Once we were there, we split up, with Alex, Blake and I going along one wall and Kris and Manny taking the other side. We synchronized our movements, as Alex and Kris attacked the guards furthest from the door and Manny and I rushed in and got the closer ones while Blake stayed on lookout. I'm not sure how the others took down their targets, because I was a little busy at the time, but if you wanna know, the way I did it was rushing the guy, throwing the brunt of my machine gun into his neck and then slamming him into the wall. It snapped quite nicely. His neck I mean, not my gun. That would've been bad. For me, not him I- you know what? You probably get the idea.

Evidently, I had used less... finesse than the other three, as they all stared at me, some with eyebrows raised. I shrugged my shoulders and motioned to the door. Alex shook his head and signaled that we go in, and we did just that, hauling the bodies in with us to hide them and finding nothing else out of the ordinary in the armory. No WMDs, no Javelin missiles, no golden guns. Just a bunch of what looked like Canadian military surplus mixed with some ArmaLite-y rifles and some Russian nonsense. Lots of AK's. It was funny though, they weren't top of the line, even good looking. I remember seeing one that looked inoperable, and for a Kalashnikov, that was saying something. Hell, we were on an op busting up one of Kossenko's operations in Washington state about a month before and his goons had AK-12's, and that shit's not even in use yet by the Russian ARMY.

So why am I bringing that up, you ask? The Russian weapons were still in boxes, not sorted or anything like the other armament. I asked Alex and Pavel about it, and they reached the same conclusion as I did: Kossenko was sending Lebowski shitty weapons, which furthered our suspicions that he didn't have much faith in the plan. We were okay with this. What we were concerned about though was, why not give Lebowski good guns? Wouldn't that help him kill us, which would help Kossenko in the end? Some things weren't adding up.

We decided there wasn't much we could do right then, so we found the most volatile materials in the building and placed our remaining explosive near them and got out, trying to end our mission before somebody noticed four missing guards. There wasn't much left to see, contrary to what you might have expected, except for the "command building" somewhat in the center of the compound. We made our way there from the armory, and that's where things started to get interesting.

The door, like everywhere else in the damn complex, was unlocked, because apparently nobody had considered intruders or anything before, so we just walked in, and were greeted with a fairly empty lounge area with a conference table and a door at the far end and an ascending staircase on our right. We inspected the lower room, but there wasn't anything of real note there, like, at all. It didn't even look like that much "commanding" went down there at all. Things got even weirder when we went upstairs. The room the stairway opened into could only be described as a "trashed Vegas motel room". There was a big bed in the center, and it looked pretty disgusting. There was a whole mix of stuff on the floor and the general area smelled like a mix of sweat, jizz, and weed. There looked to be a bathroom and maybe a closet there, but we didn't really feel like going in there. That was not in our job description. We did, however, find a computer on the desk in the room, and Alex started to boot it up right then, but Blake got his attention and suggested we move downstairs, where we were less likely to catch a disease just from walking around.

We were in the process of starting the computer when suddenly something flew open from further down the room, near the conference table, and a weary looking cat in dirty looking clothes with a gun on his hip walked out of it. We all trained our guns on him, not making a sound. Then he lazily looked in our direction, saw the glint of our weapons, and nearly paralyzed in fear. Alex motioned for him to stay quiet and come toward us, but he reached for his hip and opened his mouth to call out. Luckily, before he could do any of this, Kris fired two shots into his skull, neatly taking him down with minimal sound since he had the foresight to attach his suppressor to his rifle. We left the computer behind and moved to the dead feline, finding nothing of interest on him and noting that a trapdoor of sorts had opened up on the floor behind the table, revealing an underground staircase.

We filed down the staircase, with Manny taking point instead of Kris, and Blake and I weren't completely down yet when we heard a shotgun go off. Alex and I charged down the stairs to backup Kris and Manny, but the extent of the enemy contact had already been dealt with in the form of one cougar who I'm sure had a chest before Manny got to him. Alex quietly asked what had happened, and Manny explained that the guard had pulled a gun on him and so (rightly so) he shot him in the chest. We looked around the dank, dimly lit corridor and found that it was a kinda prison, with rusty cells lining one wall. Alex found a key ring on the dead guard, which held all of one key, yet another suspicious part of the whole place. In fact, all of the cells were empty, except for the furthest one down.

Inside was a 20-something looking female snow leopard wearing not much but a dirty oversized shirt that descended almost to her knees, huddled against the far wall of the cell. Alex unlocked the door, and immediately noticed a trip wire in the space between the door and the floor, and he raised an eyebrow at Manny and I, who were closest to him. It was a strange place to put the trap. Pavlov motioned for me to come with him into the cell, and we stepped over the wire and toward the cat in the corner. Alex calmly said, "Hello, my name is Leo, and this is Mark. We're here to help. Are you okay?" She looked up at us and weakly nodded her head. "Can you tell us your name?" Alex continued. She opened her mouth and she faintly said "Yuliya Andreyeva", and at this point Alex started speaking in Russian. Of course I could understand absolutely none of this at the time, but after they were done talking he stated that she had only been there for a day or so and didn't have any information.

I stepped closer to Alex so only he could hear me and said, "Hey bud I don't like this. Maybe I'm crazy, but nothing here makes sense. The shit guns in the armory, the fake control room, the upstairs rape room, one lone prisoner that happens to be Russian? Don't tell me you're not getting a bad feeling too." He sighed and responded, "Yeah, I know what you mean. But what choice do we have? Let's just get her out of here, blow this place and then figure out what to make of everything." I looked at Yuliya, then back at Alex and shrugged my shoulders, "You're the boss, man." I extended a paw to the leopard and helped her up. Alex let her know about the wire in the door, and she signaled that she understood. Of course this did nothing to prevent her from losing her footing and running right into the wire.

This was one of the several points in my life when I have had the following thought: "Well. This is it. I suppose I've had a good enough life. I hope whatever god I'm about to meet is forgiving." I could've sworn the wire was going to trigger a bomb or a cave-in or a trap from Saw or something, but in real life it was just a base-wide alarm. Which, though it didn't mean certain death, still wasn't what you'd call... "welcome". Alex and I looked at each other, simultaneously said "FUCK" and signaled for everyone to get the hell out of that tunnel. The others started running, and I grabbed Yuliya, threw her over my shoulder in a sorta fireman's carry, then took off after them. When I got to the top of the staircase, shit was already goin' down.

The conference table on the wall close to me had already been flipped over, with Kris and Blake on either end laying down suppressive fire, and Alex and Manny in the middle, occasionally shooting over the cover. I ran like an Olympic sprinter coming out of the blocks from the stairway opening to the table, sliding in and gracefully letting go of Yuliya once we were behind cover. Alex was yelling for Pavel to find us a way out, and Pav came up with the novel, terrifying idea of splitting us up, marking out a final destination at a small garage a couple buildings down, which he assumed contained vehicles of some sort, but the building itself wasn't big or frequented enough to warrant targeting it with explosives. The plan was that we'd split up into two groups of three, with Pavel guiding Alex and Manny, who would be in turn escorting Yuliya. They would take a slightly more roundabout route to the garage, while myself, Kris, and Blake would be serving as cover and, let's be honest here, a distraction. Oh yeah, and if you didn't figure it out, that meant we had to be guided by Elise too. What a dream come true.

After about seven seconds of catching our breath, Alex started a count from three, and once he was through, Kris, Blake and I popped up and started spewing bullets like it was going outta style, and Manny grabbed Yuliya and followed Alex out the back door. I would tell you how their side of the following events happened, but honestly, I have no idea, because I wasn't there. Ask Pav or something. On the shitty end of the stick, we held our position at the conference table for about two minutes. Two minutes doesn't seem like much of an issue when you're reading it from home, but let me tell you, when you're hiding behind a big fuckin piece of wood while goons come in a seemingly never-ending stream, constantly hurling lead pellets of doom at you, two minutes is a long damn time. Elise's job was pretty easy at that point at least. All of the OpFor was directly in front of us, so it was just a matter of shoot them and don't get shot. And shockingly, considering we were immeasurably higher trained than they were, we did that exceptionally well.

Kris and Blake would peek around every so often, surgically removing enemies that showed the least bit of fur, and they were at a pretty low risk themselves, considering I kept as continuous of a bullet stream as I could from my machine gun, helping tear apart anyone who even considered poking their head out, as well as several pieces of mediocre lounge furniture. After the minutes had passed, I noticed my ammunition box on my machine gun had gone dry, and coincidentally, at that exact moment, Elise gave us the order to move. I swore at her through the radio as I pulled out my sidearm and took a couple useless potshots as we bailed out through the back door and into the open. Blake slammed the door shut as we exited and we took cover behind the closest wall we could find as Elise calmly explained that the garage was basically a straight shot from our current position.

"Well SHIT, Elise, if it was that easy why do you even need to direct us?" I asked with a fair amount of sarcasm. "Because there's a tango trying to sneak up on the three of you from the left," she came back dryly, prompting Blake to instantaneously snap in that direction and cap the enemy. Well then. So she wasn't useless after all. "Any other complaints, you dick?" I didn't respond to her that time, obviously. I wouldn't take that blow to my pride. "Hey guys? Can we not? Body bags are overrated," Blake tried to mediate, unsuccessfully. "Not if Travis is in one," Elise hissed, "anyway, they're trying to set up an ambush for you just ahead. Instead of going along the left side of that building, go around it and hit them from behind. They'll never see you coming." Kris thanked her and started heading toward the opposite corner of the building, with Blake and I following as I reloaded my death machine. At the corner, Kris instructed me to take point, which I was completely fine with, but as I rounded the corner he smacked me in the back of the head.

"Shit," I whispered intensely, "What was that for?" "Mouthing off to our eye in the sky," the Doberman answered, "Probably wouldn't have hurt if you'd learn how to wear a helmet." I mumbled some inaudible choice words to myself about everybody being against me and led the other two along the side of the building, and as I peeked around the far corner I clearly saw a whole gaggle of enemies watching the path they expected us to go down. I gave a three-count, and once I hit zero, we turned the corner and opened all living hell on the flanked foes. Most of them didn't even get the chance to turn around before they were cut down, and as they fell, they revealed a similar group across the path that was already facing us. Most of them went down just as quickly as their unexpecting comrades, but a few got to cover in time to start giving us trouble, and this was also the moment Alex picked to have all radio connections reestablished and mention they were at the garage and order us to get over there. We were able to pick off one or two other enemies before I decided "fuck all", and retrieved a grenade in my kit that I was saving for a special occasion, cooked it off, then sent it along the side of the building. A few muffled yells could be heard before the explosion choked them out, and I grimly stated, "That oughta do it."

With the OpFor on their heels, we hauled ass over to the garage, sprinting down the pathways as the bullets started flying once again from the remainder of the garrison, which was now catching up to us. Luckily Elise was right and the garage wasn't too far, and we got to the entrance, at which Alex was standing among several dead bodies. "They were waiting for us here," he said semi-breathlessly, "'s all good though, at least we got some sort of a challenge. How are you guys?" "Whoa, hold up," Kris stated flatly, "what exactly happened, and where are Manny and the girl?" Pavlov pointed backwards over his shoulder to the wall where Manny was attempting to console a bawling, very distressed Yuliya and explained, "Yeah, she's... a little shaken up. She'll make it, though. Once we got here they tried to ambush us. Didn't quite work, and that's what this is from. Oh, and the door's locked by the way." I looked at Alex, then looked at the door, then Alex one more time, then walked over to the door and kicked it in with the force of all the night's frustration, "Would you look at that. I found a key," I said, admittedly somewhat snarkily. "...Fair enough," Alex conceded, "Alright, let's go."

The garage was pitch black when we entered, but with our visual aids we could make out two small vehicles covered by tarps. Kris found a switch that pulled up the door of the garage, and the rest of us uncovered the cars, revealing to brand new Mustang convertibles, with the keys still in the ignition. They had even been so kind as to leave the top down for us. I looked at Alex and asked what the plan was, and he replied, "Well, guys, it would appear that it's time for a dramatic escape. Get in the cars, let's get the hell out of here." Hoo-rah, Alex. Hoo-rah.