Chapter XCVI: Siege of Limansk Part 8, Duga Free

 The darkness spread over Limansk, revealing stars as it advanced. Starlight lit the snow below, providing a dim source of visibility even if the sun had disappeared long ago already. Two red and black-clad stalkers stepped out of a concrete tunnel. For just a second, Boris took off his helmet and breathed in the cold air. The last stretch of the road was ahead. It was time to end this.

• What now, chief?, Orlov asked.

• We'll need to contact everyone and ask for support. If Sin is fighting all over the city, they'll be too distracted to protect the antenna, Boris replied and continued into his suit radio:

• This is Redemption commander Boris Unforgiven, calling all allied forces in Limansk area. The mission to the Radiowave Institute failed, it was too late to stop the sequence. Only opportunity we have now is to blow up the big bastard. I and Captain Orlov will do this, we are closest to it and the less forces we commit to it, the less likely it is that we get spotted. Everyone else, hit the cultist bastards with all you've got. Kill them, delay them, wound them, insult them, whatever helps, remember we do this for all of Europe. We must, and I stress this, must succeed.

• This is Strelok speaking. The Free Stalkers will strike the enemy with all we've got!

   - Da zdravstvuet anarhija, for Freedom and Liberty, we will fight!

• DEADLY ANOMALIES, DANGEROUS MUTAN...

• Fucking hell, they brought the loudspeaker here too? Anyway, Clear Sky pathfinders, at your service.

• Redemption ready for battle, now go blow up that fucking thing already, a familiar voice answered last.

• Dima? You're alive? Jesus, I was worried already, Boris replied into the radio.

• You know me, tough as nails. The whole squad outside of Vadim is here, and we've got a nasty surprise ready for the chopper. But go already, we can chat once you get out of there.

Boris closed the device and looked at Orlov. The Dutyer gave him a grim but determined look and nodded. With this small signal, the two men started getting up the hillside slowly. The Hind still patrolled over the Duga antenna, and thus they kept low and slow to not catch its attention. But soon a flash of extremely bright light came from the forest border, blinking just long enough to be noticed, and the helicopter started moving towards it. It opened fire with its 12.7 millimetre machine guns, blowing apart treetrunks and foliage.

• Valik, hit it!, came a shout from the radio.

A single comet-like entity spun across the sky, following the helicopter, homed into its movements. The Hind had noticed it too late, and no amount of countermeasures or panicked maneuvering could save it. The missile struck, turning the helicopter into a ball of fire. The Krokodil sank across the sky, engulfed in fire.

• Now that's clear sky!, came a voice on the radio, by the sound of it from Dimuha.

• Fuck off with the puns already, another one replied, presumably from a faction wearing blue and white.

The most significant threat dealt with, the two stalkers climbed ever further, eventually coming to a part of the Duga complex wall that had collapsed. They entered through it and were immediately struck by a wave of psychic energies. Ethereal voices filled their skulls, telling them how they would suffer a gruesome death and how the mission would fail. Others pleaded for mercy, and yet others told them to kill each other. But it was nothing compared to the mental iron ring that had now appeared around their heads, pushing inwards. The headache was unbearably strong, and Boris could see Orlov fall to his knees. The fatigue was already mounting for the pair, not to mention the rapidly deteriorating health of Boris, and this was beginning to be too much.

Boris went through his pockets frantically, looking for anything to block the psychic disruption. His vision was beginning to blur, his mind becoming sluggish and docile. But just as he was about to faint, his hands met a rough shape in his leg pocket, small plate of psi-block tablets. He quickly ingested one and gave another to the suffering captain, who swallowed two right away. The unlikely allies waited for the pills to kick in, their knees feeble and mind ailing, until a sudden clarity descended. Despite the immense strength of the Duga antenna, the Purifier was still only gathering strength. Still, there was no time to waste here.

• Ready?, Boris asked.

• As ready as I'll ever be. Let's move, Orlov said, rising up and readying his long rifle.

The Purifier complex was small above ground, consisting only of a couple old Soviet administrative buildings and a wall encircling the entirety of the radar antenna. Boris had to admit that the view up there was rather amazing. Down at the city itself, vicious urban fighting had begun. Sanyok's group was battling a large Sin group near the institute, Vityukha and his men were pushing the stragglers off the construction site, Stepukha's squad was joined by Dima's survivors at the defence of the factory. In the river outpost, Duty and Freedom units fought shoulder to shoulder to hold back the tide of Monolith advance. If he looked really hard, Boris could just about make out the outlines of Limansk drawbridge, where it appeared that Clear Sky and Free Stalkers were holding the line against a massive Sin push. A sound of helicopters came from the south, which puzzled Boris, but it was not the time to investigate the curious sound further.

Orlov had already found a hidden bomb in the constructs of one pylon of the antenna. Boris found two more. Issue still remained on how to blow it up. The trigger was long gone, blown to smithereens with Vadim, and the pair lacked IEDs or grenades. Boris scratched his beard while pondering the issue when he realized that he still had his M203 launcher on the M16 rifle loaded. He brought this up with Orlov, who refused the idea.

• You'd have to shoot it so close that the blast wave would get you in seconds. Not worth it, he explained.

Boris was about to argue, when a hail of bullets struck the antenna around them. Both stalkers lunged for cover, looking for the source of the firing. They did not have to look for it for long. A Sin exoskeleton trooper, followed by three trenchcoat experts, rushed up the hill, carrying a smoking MG-3 machine gun.

• Chyort, that urod is packing some serious heat!, Boris yelled over the gunfire.

• You got any more rounds for the USAS? We could use some of them slugs right now!, Orlov replied loudly and leaned out of cover to fire his SVT. Ten loud barks from the venerable battle rifle followed, and the Dutyer crouched to smack another magazine into the gun.

• Njet, I'm completely out. Let's focus fire that bitch!

And on the completion of that sentence, Boris in turn opened fire, emptying his last magazine of buckshot into the Sin squad, alternating between targets. The berserker in his exo barely flinched, but one of the lightly armed experts got hit, the pellets turning his flesh into bloody pulp. He fell down, firing one last salvo from his gun into the dirt and slow. The other experts fell behind cover, taking potshots at their two defiant foes. The berserker focused on Orlov, clearly frustrated by the SVT fire, and Orlov hunkered down further. The bullets sent sparks flying all around him, and dangerous ricochets bounced into his cover. The Dutyer let out an anguished cry when a stray bullet hit his right arm, scraping his palm badly.

Boris swapped his empty USAS into his M16, firing at the maniac advancing towards them, but the ammunition seemed to only piss the lunatic off more. He turned his machine gun towards the Redemption leader, and the hail of 7.62 NATO rounds hit Boris' battleplate in multiple places. Boris could feel some fail to penetrate, but the sheer force struck his chest and legs, causing fractures and bleeding. The fatigue and pain, kept away by meds until now, washed over him, and he fell to his knees. The berserker, gleeful in his perceived victory, focused on Boris and rushed into to finish the foe up close. But this mistake cost him everything, as Orlov fired his massive revolver up close, piercing the heavy armour and rupturing the Sinner's insides.

The Sin fanatic staggered, mortally wounded by the heavy bullet, and his acolytes rushed to help, firing like madmen. Orlov got hit again, this time in the shoulder, and he lost his footing. The Sin commander, determined to take the Dutyer with him, charged the wounded man with the last of his strength, sending both of them spinning down the hillside. Seeing his friend fall down, Boris was brought back into the action. More Sin troops were coming up the hill to support, and the two experts still pushed on. It was time to act, finish this once and for all. He swapped his grip to the trigger of the grenade launcher, rose up to his feet feebly and took aim. Short trigger pull sent the grenade spinning towards its target. It sunk hungrily into the metal on top of the bomb before exploding.

The cold winter day erupted in a festival of light. The grenade set off the bomb next to it, which in turn triggered the charge nearby, leading into a chain reaction shaking the entire antenna complex. The Duga antenna, now christened as the Purifier, let out a metallic shriek as it begun to tilt dangerously. And in a screech that was heard all the way in the bridge of Skadovsk, it crashed down, taking Sin defenders with it and ending the entire Purifier project in flames.

Boris however, saw none of this. He had leaped off the hillside the second he pulled the trigger, and the explosion had sent him barreling downwards at perilous speed. He landed near Orlov, laying unconcious in the snow, the revolver still smoking, and for a second, Boris fell into the graces of unconciousness as well. Roughly a minute later he came to his senses once more, and then a wave of incredible pain hit him. The first of Redeemed managed to crawl into a nearby rock, placing his back to it and watching the Duga antenna collapse up the hill. Victory, sweet victory, Boris thought to himself and closed his eyes. The smell of fire and ash, the crackling of flames, shrieks and groans of metal, winter wind and distant rotors of helicopters was all he heard. His body, battered, bleeding and bruised, was beginning to shut down. Far too much damage in far too short a period did so to a man, no matter how hardy he was.

• So here it ends... Holy Father, look over my brothers now, for I cannot any longer. Lena, I will see you soon..., he whispered to himself.

• Oh Boris, you melodramatic fool, stop monologuing and get up, your fight is not over yet, came a familiar voice from behind him. The rotors were overhead now.