Chapter XXXVIII: Blood Spilled Must Be Repaid

 Seven men moved like ghosts through the night in Yantar, moonlight reflecting slightly from their gasmasks and weapons. Their movement had an odd, almost mechanical tone to it, and they did not say a single word, no hushed murmurs. Any rookie of the Zone would have instantly recognized them as Monolith, but there were no one around to do so now.

Inside the plant of Yantar, a single ecologist guard was yawning. Senior Researcher Zakarov had insisted to perform these readings at night, and they had camped to the entrance of the lab X-16. Zakarov and Timka Ox, another guard, were both sleeping while Slavik Boot was on guard duty for the night. It was already half past two.

Slavik was getting increasingly creeped out by the setting. Sounds of all kinds of monsters rose from the lab itself, even despite that one madman, Boris Unforgiven, having cleared it not too long ago. Slavik shuddered. This was not his ideal job posting, he'd much rather be at Jupiter, a stone throw from Yanov Station, chucking down drinks and doing some light readings on anomalies.

His musings stopped the same second his life did. A subsonic 9x39 bullet pierced his gasmask and blew his brains out. He did not even have time to think anything and now all that remained was a husk. A Monolith warrior stepped from the shadows, holding a VSS rifle, and crouched next to Slavik's sleeping companions. With precise movement, he slid their throats and rose up, cleaning his blade. Six other warriors appeared from the shadows as well, and they entered the lab.

Half an hour later, a man in a SEVA suit arrived to the scene. He checked the bodies, glanced around him and then waved his hand at the dark corner nearby. Another man in a mercenary Nosorog suit and woman in Freedom armour emerged from it.

• We're late. Goddammit, we're late!, Dima cursed in frustration and rage.

• Calm down. We might be too late to save these poor souls, but I swear to the Zone we'll avenge them, Hip replied, her anger less visible, more of a cool rage occasionally rising to the surface.

Boris, the man in the Nosorog, said nothing. He was crouched over the bodies, deep in thought. He rose up in a swift movement, and spoke:

• They haven't been dead for long. Those bastards most likely are still not even close getting to their target. Let's mourn these guys later and avenge them first. Move it!

The trio entered the lab in the footsteps of the Monolithians. Boris thought of the last time he had visited this place, of the darkness, the horror and the oppressive athmosphere. At least this time he wasn't alone. They moved quickly, but slowed their pace a bit as they heard gunfire coming from the lower levels. Boris started descending the ladders first as the gunfire grew faster and faster, bursts longer and more desperate. On the last ledge before the floor itself, he carefully leaned over the edge to check the situation.

Two Monolith troopers in X-18 suits were battling bloodsuckers and snorks. But something wasn't quite right. Something was messing with Boris' head, twisting it and his thoughts. His head got fuzzy, as if there was a controller nearby. He needed to get out of this place, out of the reach of whatever was warping his mind. But to get there, he'd need to deal with the Monoliths too. Dima and Hip were affected too, he could see them looking nauseous. It couldn't be a controller, he did not hear the ominous laughter and taunting inside his head.

Working more on instict than concious thought, he pulled a grenade out of his belt and jumped down, tossing the grenade at the same time to the large room next to the elevator shaft. Dima and Hip followed as the explosion rang out. Miraculously, the mindwarping influence dissipated, and all that remained was a confused Monolith warrior, searching the room for his friends. Before he could find them amidst the smoke, Boris was upon him, shoving his kukri from his navel upwards.

• Here's one for those ecologists upstairs, he said coldly, blood of his enemy soaking the sleeves of his suit as the Monolith soldier looked into his eyes. And in a flash, Boris saw fear. Pure fear. Despite years of servitude as a slave, this man still feared death. In a second, the sight was gone, and the Monolith warrior faded to afterlife. Slowly, Boris pulled his kukri out of the soldier. He was shaken by this revelation, but this was not the time nor the place for philosophical questions about the true power of Monolith.

With their human and mutant adversaries laying dead on the floor, Boris saw something he had never seen before. A zombie, barely even a husk of a man, deteriorated beyong recognition. It still emanated some sort of energy that gave Boris a headache. This is something worth investigating at a later time, thought Boris to himself, and rose up to pursue the rest of the Monolith group. Dima and Hip had already cleared the next room of zombies and snorks, their shotguns making short work of the poor mutated humans.

For a second they let down their guard, and two Bloodsuckers rushed into the room, their bloodthirsty roars bouncing off the walls and magnifying to a booming psychological weapon. They crashed into Dima and made him fall down, while Hip retreated into a cage nearby and barely held one of them off with her shotgun. She was showing the monster back with the back of her Bizon, yelling profanities at the abomination, which granted did little more than anger the beast more.

Boris rushed to their assistance, making his Remington sing as he freed Dima from his pinned position under the creature, which had almost sunk its tentacles into his flesh. They both turned to help Hip, who meanwhile had managed to hit the horrid thing's weakspot between the eyes, forcing it to retreat. Hip, Dima and Boris all used this to fire their shotguns at it, and the peppering from buckshot sent blood flowing from gaping wounds. The beast was slain. Hip loaded two more rounds into her shotgun, aimed at the corpse and unloaded them.

• Stay dead you motherless bastard!, she screamed, clearly shaken by the encounter. Boris had almost forgotten after all they had went through already that Hip was still little more than a rookie, and he placed his hand on Hip's shoulder.

• Come now, Hip. It is dead, and we still have work to do, he said in a calm but authoritative voice. Hip lowered her head and nodded slightly. The blood of the ecologists still demanded justice, and Hip wanted to deliver it as much as Boris and Dima did.

They continued onwards, entering the psy-emitter chamber. Dima and Hip looked up in awe, marvelling the scientific accomplishment, but Boris was only focused on the levers of the machine. Still off, he thought, thank the heavens. The Monolith group must be further in. They begun ascending the spiraling stairs and walkways of the laboratory, and Boris dispatched few straggler zombies along the way. The less noice they made, the more surprised the Monolith would be, even if they knew Boris' squad was coming.

The resistance from the mutants was not major, and they reached the top floor in no time. Slowly, Boris inched to the edge of the corridor leading to the final room, past the controlling centre of the Miracle Machine. He leaned just enough over the edge of the turn to see couple of their prey squatting on the corridor, eerily staring ahead. Boris signalled the situation to his companions and prepared his shotgun. Short, quiet breaths in and out. He breathed out, steadied his heart and sprang forward like a spring unwound.

His Remington sang once more the melody of death, creating a cacophony of thundering blasts, cries of pain and crushing of concrete and armour. Like an artist of death, he painted the corridor ahead red, his enemies caught unaware and helpless. More tried to help their comrades, running out from the final room, only to be cut down by the concentrated shotgun fire of the squad. Final Monolith warrior crawled back inside, mortally wounded. Boris followed him in and saw him draw a blade, one covered in fresh blood. This bastard had killed the ecologists outside. Boris kicked him, sending the blade flying, and aimed his TT-33 at the warrior. This one had no fear in his eyes, only defiance and pride.

• Go ahead, kill me then. I die serving the Monolith, and I shall be eternal in its grace, the warrior spat out, amongst the blood flowing from his mouth.

• Your cause is as lost as you are. And I will make sure of it. This is for the blood you spilled today, Boris thundered and emptied all eight rounds of his magazine into the warriors head, leaving only a bloody mess behind. Dima and Hip arrived next to him, their faces a mix of exhaustion, slight disgust and satisfaction that justice had been served.

• I've never seen you like that Boris. You okay?, Dima asked, concern deep in his voice. Boris sighed and holstered his pistol.

• I'm not. Dushman sent us to protect those ecologists, to deepen the relations between mercs and ecos to even higher level than after my missions to X-16 and 19. I failed them, and we almost lost the Miracle Machine once again. How can I be a leader to a faction in this state?

• Jesus Christ man, you've been faction leader for less than a few weeks, give yourself a break. We did our best and avenged them when all else failed. What else could we have done?, Hip intervened.

• Exactly Boris. And besides, I'm not sure these guys were here to turn this big boy back on. They were just chilling here when we arrived, none of the machinery is even on, Dima continued in support of Hip. Boris nodded slightly.

• Perhaps you are right. As for this place, this could've been a scouting party, trying to determine if it was safe to retake the place and turn it back on. Whatever the cause for this little incursion, it is not good. We have to notify Sakharov about this, and maybe post a couple of the best Redemption recruit to guard this place. It's time to start spreading out and to start carry our weight, Boris replied, his confidence coming back to him.

• Now that's more like it! Now, you deal with Sakharov and I'll get us all cigs in exchange for vodka from Spirit, Dima cheered.

• Neither of us smoke, Dima, Hip replied to him, pointing at Boris too.

• Oh damn, more for me then, Dima chirped and started heading towards the entrance. Hip looked at Boris and rolled her eyes. Boris chuckled. He might have failed the ecologists today, but his squad would never fail him, he was sure of it.