Chapter LXXV: The Regretful Mercenary

 The grey autumn morning greeted Boris as he shook from his drug-induced sleep. His limbs were stiff and cold, and all over his body streaks of pain exploded as he moved. It was as if he had been ran over by a bus, the bus driver having decided not to slow down and the wheels having been made of cement. Lazily, he opened his eyes, seeing a familiar face.

• Good morning, princess, enjoy your beauty sleep?, Stitch, Strelok's medic asked, with his characteristic smile.

• Everything hurts like hell... But that doesn't matter. Is Dima alright? Have the Sinners been repelled?, Boris answered, letting loose a flurry of questions.

• Dima's in a better shape than you, he got hit but it wasn't anything critical. He's already outside. And Sin was repelled for the time being. They still control most of Limansk but some more stalkers arrived from Dead City and a Freedom squad from Red Forest so we are holding on. Don't think about that now though, you've got plenty of recovery to go through.

• Recovery? I don't have time for that shit. Have you seen the state the Zone is in? I can't rest knowing that any second this rotten structure comes tumbling down and some new abomination crawls out and kills us all.

• Calm down, Boris, a new voice ordered. It was Rogue, who had arrived behind Stitch, and continued with a tired voice:

• We got a message from Strelok. Sin apparently isn't only focusing on this place alone. They are sending troops to Yantar and Radar as well, according to Clear Sky pathfinders.

• Oh blyat... I've been worrying about X-16 ever since Dima, Hip and I ran into some Monolithians there. Must've been a scouting party, and now Sin is looking to make them operational again, Boris cursed.

• Indeed. And that's what I want you to do. Go to Yantar, guard that big brain and heal up. You're the best soldier for suicide miss... I mean for fighting the Zone we've got, and it's no good if you go and kill yourself by tearing the wounds open, Rogue said.

• Fine. But we still need troops in Radar as well. Should I contact Meadow, ask them to send our best that way?, Boris asked.

• Please do, I'm stuck here with my men. You could ask Freedom for help though, Lukash most likely would like the Scorcher staying down.

• Sure thing. Now, where did that one merc go to? I'd like to have a chat with him, now that I'm back in the land of the living, Boris said, rising up. His entire body protested loudly.

Boris found the lone mercenary not too far away from the loner camp. He was sitting by a campfire with Dima, but neither of them seemed to be in a particularly chatty mood. Dima's face lit up when he saw Boris appear however, which he quickly concealed behind his usual stoic veteran impression.

• Well, it seems I've yet to get rid of you. How you feeling, Boris?, he asked with a grin.

• Never better, as you can see, these 25 bandages and pale skin is just for my mummy cosplay. How's our merc guest?, Boris answered with a weak smile. The merc turned to look him, and Boris noticed a look of shame in his eyes.

• My name's Sanyok, and I thank you for saving me, although I do think it'd be better if I had perished, the mercenary said bitterly.

• How so?

• I was the leader of Limansk defence. Fifteen men under my command, all dead now, thanks to my idiotical choices. Dushman ordered us to retreat back to Dead City, to shore up defences up there. In my hubris, I thought I could take them, I thought I needed to hold them from reaching Red Forest and linking up their supply lines. I was so sure we could hold, so sure I could stop them here. I needed to stop them. But they came at us with such a fervour... Like madmen, posessed monsters, they shot their weapons and sunk their blades into my men. And when we fell to those basements, they kept coming, throwing themselves at us with live grenades in hands.

Boris looked at the man. His shoulders and head had slumped down. His voice was weak. Sanyok could not look at the two men next to him, so deep was his shame and regret. Boris sympathized with him, the burden of leadership was always laden the heaviest after mistakes. Only fools thought themselves unable of making miscalculations, and even the best tactician could not avoid them. One wrong move, and Boris could very well be in Sanyok's boots.

• Get up, merc, and face me, Boris commanded, his voice clear in the brisk afternoon air. Sanyok looked at him, confused, but slowly rose up.

• You have made a mistake. That much is true. But when facing the horrors of the Zone, one often feels himself the need to stop them, no matter the cost. I've felt it, Dima has felt it, every man with a decent heart in his chest has felt it. Those zealots are an unnatural, degenerate spawn from this twisted realm, and it is our duty to stop them. Dushman only thought of his little warlord city, only of the safety of the mercs. You thought bigger.

• And I was wrong, Dushman was right, Sanyok interjected. Boris snapped his fingers to silence him.

• Yes, but I will not allow you to feel inferior to a man like Dushman. Do you remember the last time he led troops in the field? No? Neither do I, and neither does Dima. He sits there in his little palace, ordering assansinations and raids, building bank for retirement days. He does not care for what happens to the Zone, to the men under him, to anything but to his clients. You deserve to feel no regret upon disobeying a man like him. You fought for a cause you felt the need to fight for. If you want to regret, to redeem yourself, do it for the comrades you lost, not because of some fat bastard profiting off all this.

Sanyok seemed to weigh this idea in his head for a while, utterly puzzled. Finally, after coming to conclusion, he sighed long and hard and raised his gaze from the dirt near the fire.

• Your words have wisdom to them, Boris, and I thank you. I will not drive myself to insanity by blaming myself for the death of my men. I will kill every single one of the Sin bastards here or die trying, for my men and for myself, he said, confidence returned to his voice.

• That's more like it! But listen, we might have a better idea on how to hit the Sinners harder, perhaps even put a complete stop to their crusade, and to start your road to redemption, Dima proposed.

• I'm all ears, Sanyok said. Dima looked at Boris and grinned.