Chapter LXII: Storming the Sniper's Nest

 As night crept over Army Warehouses, enveloping the valley in a blanket of black satin sky and stars as cold and bright as diamonds, a burial fire was lit. The usually cheery and relaxed members of Freedom watched with stony faces as flames burned away their fallen comrades, pieces of ash swirling towards the sky. The Barrier had held once more, but this was the price paid for it. Some even shed a few tears for comrades lost to madmen, but most simply stared at the flames, deep in thought. Boris was one of them, watching the fire rise, hungrily devouring the bodies and firewood alike. A fitting analogy for the Zone at large, he thought.

As the fire turned to embers, he and Dima set off, Boris muttering a last prayer for lost brothers-in-arms. Hip, Anton and Mark had already headed to an area known as the Forest, a wilderness north of the Truck Cemetery. It was a literal backwater, not much more than endless forest road according to the few stalkers that ventured there. Mark was certain the Alpha Karlik would be there. Dima and Boris meanwhile would've joined them, but this new message had thrown a Dushman-shaped spanner into the works, and thus they had to divert to Dead City.

In the starlight, the road was barely visible, but the pair had top of the line nightvision for these situations. The landscape ahead took a ghostly tinge to it through the device, but it was better than imagining the horrors that lay ahead. Sometimes, it truly was better knowing than being ignorant. Especially with things like chimeras lurking about. Dima was not in a chatting mood, and Boris even less. Both did not like returning to Dead City, especially after all the suicide missions Dushman had put them through, but Boris could not claim he wasn't even slightly intrigued what the old merc had in mind now.

The glow of a campfire appeared from the darkness, its light inviting and warm. Yet the outpost was empty. No signs of fighting were to be seen, someone had left in a hurry. The fire was still roaring, there were foodstuffs next to it and a teapot was quite warm. Boris looked at Dima questioningly, and Dima shrugged. Perhaps the Dead City situation had escalated, Boris thought to himself. They moved with more haste after passing the outpost. Soon they reached an odd tunnel that connected Army Warehouses to Dead City, and in the light of their nightvision crossed it.

They reached the forgotten city before sun had risen, first rays painting the clouds red yet no sign of warmth or light still. There was a weak breeze going around, carrying with it some distant howls and growling of mutants. The derelict commieblocks of Dead City were as imposing to Boris now as they had always been, the dilapidated walls hiding inside them history from many generations who worked in these closed cities. The city was quiet for the most part, but this did not necessarily mean it was safe. Merc patrols were notably absent, and only light in the city came from the HQ of the soldiers of fortune. Boris and Dima decided with a quick glance at each other to proceed with caution.

This careful approach was rewarded, as soon gunshots could be heard in the central plaza of Dead City. The pair creeped forward, checking the sniper's nest on top of a large collapsed building. All they found was a corpse of a mercenary, his L96 rifle laying on the ground and a bullet wound in his upper torso. Boris sneaked just close enough to check his vitals, and closed his eyes upon closing his inspection. Dima was scanning the ground ahead to get a better understanding of the situation. He whispered:

• I think I see about a squad of snipers on top of the administration building. Judging by the uniforms, they're most likely military. The blueberries must've been slacking to let them this close. Any ideas, Boris?

• Damn, that place is a nightmare to attack. There's a sewer entrance near the old community centre, and another one on the park just outside the monoblock. It's not gonna be fun but it's the safest bet.

• Ye, I agree. You've got the shiny juggernaut armour, so you go first. I'll smoke a few... I mean keep them pinned while you move, Dima replied with a smirk.

• You just don't want to go into the sewers, you princess. But fine, better keep them off my ass or you'll be swimming in the sewers yourself, Boris commented back with a grin and started inching towards the community centre. Despite his large armour he tried his hardest not to show too much of his large frame. The humming of the servomotors did not help keep him hidden well however. Nonetheless, with Dima's excellent fire support, he made it to the open manhole and slid in at the same moment a bullet bounced off the asphalt next to it.

• I thought I gave up on the life of bleeding for the mercs, yet here I am, putting my ass on the line for them again, Boris muttered to himself.

The dim hallways of the sewer were as inviting as a bandit's toiletrooms in Dark Valley, but Boris did not pay notice to them. Rats scurried out of his way as he stomped around the pipeline, towards a manhole ahead from where the only light of sun seeped into the sewers. If Boris remembered correct, that would lead him right outside the monoblock. It had the added benefit of being hard to aim at from the roof. As he reached the entrance, his anomaly detector started beeping loudly. Quickly, Boris smacked it silent.

It did not take long for him to find the source for that alarm. A quiet crackling sound rose from the ground next to him. The air was warped from heat. A burner. But it was not alone. Boris checked the surroundings with his Svarog detector. About a dozen anomalies. The heat was already starting to have an effect on him, draining his energy. Thankfully the entrance to sewers was right at the edge of the anomaly field, and thus Boris quickly stepped out of it and into the safe zone. The monoblock stood over him, and on top of it multiple large-calibre sniper rifles kept the mercenaries down under the steady stream of bullets.

Boris crouched down and kept his FNX-45 pistol steady as he sneaked into the building. It was a maze of small rooms and stairways, but Boris still remembered the layout. One mercenary corpse was laying on the floor, and a soldier was looting it. Boris quickly struck him down with his kukri, sinking it into the man's neck and stopping him from alarming the others. A quick, clean end. He moved onwards, pistol in right hand and blade in the left. Another soldier was standing behind a statue of Lenin, guarding the door leading towards the sports centre. He did not have time to react when Boris fired a single .45 ACP shot into his head. The rifle he was carrying fell to the floor, giving off a metallic clang. Time for stealth was most likely over.

• Thank you for hiding me from him, comrade, guess you commies have your uses, Boris muttered quietly to the statue. He switched to his Fort shotgun and rushed up the stairs.

The upper floor was silent, the barking of rifles coming from the roof contrasting the hollow footsteps of Boris. But just like with Dead City earlier today, the silence here was also deceiving. Just as Boris was checking a room, a soldier appeared seemingly out of nowhere behind him, firing a burst from his AN-94 at Boris' back. Boris felt a bullet travel through his torso, the red pain overtaking every cognitive function in his brain. Only his instincts save him, turning him around and blasting the soldier back with his shotgun, killing him on spot.

The agony numbed just enough for Boris to eat painkillers. With the clarity gained by the drugs, he managed to bandage the wound. It hurt like hell but seemed to have gone through as the plate inside his suit had been hit from the inside. He'd have to worry about it later. He took some combat stimulants to keep going and rushed up the stairs, firing his shotgun's reservoir of slugs into the snipers there. As Boris descended upon them like manifestation of vengeance, all he could see was surprise on the soldier's face. When his shotgun clicked weakly, the last soldier fell down, over the roof ledge. His body hit the ground with a disgusting sound, which made Boris grimace. Yet another skirmish was over, and as adrenaline left his body, Boris collapsed to the ground, the edges of his vision turning black. The sky turned black as well, and he fell into the unconciousness face first, his wound too much for his beaten body.