Chapter LIII: The North Calls

 The night rain drippled down the visor of a guard in the Meadow, standing just outside the factory entrance. The visibility was poor, as the rain was denser than usual, but through the downpour he spotted a pair of stalkers closing in. He shouted for them to halt and state their business.

• Dima, calm down, it's me and Micha, a man in a ghillie suit replied.

• So I assume the mission was a success, the old bastard is dead?, Dima asked, recognizing the voice of the stalker.

• Yes indeed. The investment into this ghillie suit came back, no one spotted me and by the time we left Dark Valley, the base was still unalerted. Thanks for loaning me the Val, the man said, handing back Dima's iconic suppressed weapon.

• Cheers, boss. Get inside, Vityukha has been keeping a fire going and Hip made some strange stew which is surprisingly good, Dima responded, inspecting his rifle before nodding and holstering it.

The pair of newcomers entered the factory where a Redemption member in freshly painted black and crimson exosuit was adding logs to a crackling fire. He greeted the approaching figures, watching the exoskeleton clad new arrival with keen interest.

• Micha Bustard, was it? Welcome to Redemption mate, have some stew for your troubles. And Boris, I assume you got the son of a bitch?, Vityukha asked, receiving a nod from the ghillie suit wearing stalker.

• One shot was all it took. He's dead. We'll need to keep an eye on the bandits now, the faction might collapse into warlords harder than China did, which would be great for us, Boris responded, sitting down by the fire and taking off his gasmask and removing the hood of the camosuit.

• So what now? You've gotten your revenge, Venya is resting peacefully, bandits are in disarray and probably won't be much of a threat. What'll we do next?, Hip asked, stirring the stew that was bubbling on the campfire.

• We'll head northwards. Lukash sent me a message, asking for help with a matter too confidential to be given to his own men or the mercs. He states that this matter will be the proof he needs that we are a sort of a neutral faction. Also, we know that the Alpha Karlik went that way as well, and Wolf mentioned that everything past the Barrier has erupted into absolute war zone. We'll be needed there once more, Boris summed up, and Hip nodded, serious look in her eyes.

• Toshka got me those artefacts Sidorovich needed, and he gave me a job to visit Barkeep. Can we do that? Lukash also asked me for help, but we're going there anyway, Hip asked, and Boris thought this for a moment, scratching his beard and chin.

• Rostok will be tough ground for me and Dima, I had to kill a Duty bounty hunter squad not too long ago and Dima has his own past with Duty. We might need a disguise in that case, Boris said finally. Suddenly, Anton Anomaly and Mark Garlic appeared at the campfire, sitting down.

• She can also come to Rostok with us, we're heading up north as well. Time to hunt down that karlik for good, Mark said, while starting to clean his SVDS.

• Alright then. We'll meet you in Army Warehouses, Boris, say a few days from now, Hip proposed, and Boris nodded.

• What will I be doing then, Micha Bustard asked, for the first time, prompting a quick look from Anton.

• You can stay here and work with the loners, we'll need to keep you out of the kerfuffle going on in the bandit base as they might blame you for Sultan's death. We'll paint your armour in our colours and they probably won't recognize you.

Micha nodded to this and begun to eat. Boris fetched his personal gear in the meanwhile. Polymer had done solid work on the Nosorog, restoring it to its former glory. Boris had used the last two weeks working for the loners when his own faction didn't need his guidance, and through that moneyflow he had managed to gain new gear. The ghillie suit was a new addition, alongside a light machine gun, RPD model, and a Fort-500 shotgun he had repaired, found on a dead loner. Loris had also given him a kitted out FNX-45 pistol as a sign of goodwill between loners and Redemption.

Boris slipped back into his Nosorog suit, now painted red and black with a red phoenix painted on his helmet, and slung his RPD at his back. The familiar humming of the exoskeleton felt good, like coming back home, and he placed the new FNX pistol next to his old kukri. With his gear now in order, he headed out with Dima, who was already waiting.

• Time to head on out again, old friend, Boris said to Dima.

• Yup, time to see what this whole chaos going on in the north is about. I'm giddy with excitement, Dima replied in a sarcastic tone, and Boris laughed.

They trudged out of the gate of Meadow as most of the faction still slept, marching towards Cordon. The village down the road was as quiet as ever, but Gleb Hawk, who was guarding the entrance, vigilantly watched over it from his sniper's nest. Boris waved to him and he responded, clearly irritated by the constant rain. At Cordon, they moved quickly through the plains and reached the main road, as empty as ever, only a few cats meowing horribly at its sides.

As they neared the northern outpost, they came across a lone renegade, laying on the road wounded and bleeding out. Boris crouched next to him, but he was too far gone. The renegade let out a small sigh and perished. Boris searched his meager posessions and found a letter where the man mentioned that he would "finally make it right and seek out Redemption, he would become a man that his son could look into the eyes once more". Boris took the letter, closing the renegades eyes and muttering a small prayer. He could not grant this man redemption no longer, but perhaps some higher power could.

They continued in silence, deep in thoughts, and reached the outpost, where a few loners were huddled along the campfire. Seeing the giant figure of Boris enter the outpost, they quickly straightened up and pointed their guns at him, only to lower them as they noticed the faction colours.

• Where you fellas heading to in this weather?, one of them in a Salamander suit asked, sitting back down.

• Garbage. We're hoping to make it to Truck Cemetery today.

• Haven't you heard? Military has Garbage under lockdown, there's patrols guarding entrance to Agroprom and Duty has retaken the Rostok entrance. It'd be a suicide to you folk to head there now, another stalker in a SEVA suit explained.

• We'll head there anyway. The north is ablaze and the sooner we get there, the better, Dima responded, and the Salamander suited one shook his head.

• Well, it's your funeral. But since you're heading there anyway, could you take this package to my friend, Danya Artist, in Dark Valley? He's a Freedomer in exosuit, I'm sure you'll recognize him, he asked, and Boris nodded, receiving a small package.

• Well, since you're so pigheaded about heading out, good luck to ya, you'll need it, the SEVA stalker said, and the pair of Redeemed stepped out, into the road to Garbage. A military helicopter passed over them, a Mi-26 variant, and Dima gave Boris a questioning glance. Boris shrugged. Come what may, they would need to break into the north.

Much further ahead, in Garbage, a Duty squad was preparing to move further. They had crushed a squad of bandit rookies and taken a few prisoners, sending one of their men back to take them to Rostok arena. They watched as the transport helicopter passed over them, landing near the Flea Market. A squad of soldiers were executing loners there, shots and pleas for mercy echoing throughout the valley. The Duty squad leader checked his PDA. Boris Unforgiven was heading this way, it would soon be time to crush that criminal scum. He prepared his VSS, chambering a round. It would be a red dawn.