The Sodden Spetsnaz Smackdown
It was a late winter evening as the sun sank below the horizon in the distance. The massive copper orb cast bright, orange light across the snow and dismal buildings of Vilnius. Tachanka drove his rental Lada down the pock-marked city streets, occasionally looking in his rear-view mirror to see the near equally bright moon rising to contrast the sun. It was to be a bright night, "perfect" thought Tachanka.
The sun had finally sunk enough to bathe the city in pale moonlight by the time Tachanka had reached his destination. Pulling to the side of the road, Tachanka turned his car off and gazed at the old building he'd parked next to.
"Ah, old high-rise. How I missed you." Tachanka remarked to the building, as if it shared his memories.
Grasping his luggage in his left hand, Tachanka made for the front doors. Entering the lobby, Tachanka noticed how it looked even older inside, despite the occasional obstructive remodel. The wall paper peeled in some places and was stained in all others. The once white ceiling had been stained beige from decades of cigarette smoke, a once new DAS computer sat on the front desk with a sleeping man sitting behind it. The man appeared as old as the building, despite his age, Tachanka recognized him as Alexi Vladislav, the owner of the building.
Crossing the room quietly to avoid waking Alexi; Tachanka reached a set of stairs. Slowly, he heaved his luggage up the stairs, feeling the pain of his fifty years with every step. Eventually, he reached the familiar number, the eleventh floor.
Tachanka approached his old door and held his breath as he tried the key. Feeling his shoulders ease in relief as the key turned, he pushed the door open and was taken back in time. His old apartment was just as he had left it; his bed still made, his pictures still in place, and his vodka cabinet still locked.
Closing the door behind him, he made a bee line for the cabinet. Unlocking it, he saw his old stash was still unopened. Feeling luxurious, he grasped his limited-edition Kalashnikov vodka and took a drink from it.
He counted the seconds as he drank, "1…2…3…4…5…," before gasping for breath.
Feeling his throat tighten and his muscles shiver, he finally felt at home for the first time since joining Rainbow Six. Setting the bottle on top of the cabinet, he moved to the bathroom.
Looking in the mirror, he realized, "Урод, I'm still wearing my uniform," he looked away from the mirror for a moment, "when was the last time I took a shower? Or even cleaned my uniform?"
He looked back in the mirror and met his own gaze, "I guess I'll do it today."
Slowly he removed his clothes. He felt the weight lift off his shoulders as he took off his vest, he felt himself breathe deeper as he removed his flak jacket.
Drawing a tear from his eye, he even took off his mounted LMG, "LMG mou-" he stopped himself mid-sentence.
"How long have I been at work?" He thought to himself.
Gently placing his LMG on the bathroom floor, he continued undressing himself until he was ready to get into the shower. Stepping into the hot water was a sensation he had forgotten as he shirked away before forcing himself in. The shower was a nice contrast to the cold nights of Vilnius.
As the hot water coursed over his body, he felt old sweat, dirt and residual gunpowder wash away. Eventually the water ran cold, a que for him to get out. Stepping into the steamy bathroom, Tachanka wrapped a towel around his waist as a makeshift kilt. Looking in the mirror again, he saw that he had never removed his helmet.
A chuckle welled in his bosom, "бля-!" he managed to say before succumbing to his own laughter. He felt his chiseled, rock-hard abs grow sore with each new bout of laughter. Finally regaining his composure, he began to lift his helmet before he heard a knock at his door.
Unsure of what time it was, he strode to the door scantily clad in a towel and a helmet. Cracking the door slightly, he recognized a familiar mask.
"Kapkan! You're here early?" Tachanka shouted in delight.
Looking behind Kapkan he saw Glaz had arrived too.
"Glaz, you made it too? You make an old man proud!"
"No, we're actually here on time." Kapkan replied, retaining a sense of professional reservation.
"I suppose you could be right, I'm not wearing a watch. Come in, I just got back a few moments ago."
Beckoning them in, Tachanka couldn't help but feel as if they were missing someone. However, no matter how hard he tried to remember, he could not recall who.
Tachanka strode straight to the liquor cabinet and withdrew an unopened bottle of Bulgarian Rakia.
"You want a drink?" He asked both of them.
Without a word, Kapkan accepted the bottle and removed his balaclava before he took a long drink. Holding it out, Glaz accepted it too and did the same.
Tachanka looked at the now unmasked Spetsnaz and noticed Kapkan didn't have stubble like either him or Glaz.
"You didn't need to shave for this, Kapkan." Tachanka said in a nearly grim manner.
Kapkan's eyes widened slightly before regaining their original look, "I aim to impress…"
"No worries here," Tachanka said as he stood up and his towel fell off, exposing is erect penis, "you both must be wondering why I've called you here."
The two Spetsnaz sat down in the chairs across the room from Tachanka. Seeing this, Tachanka sat down in hos own chair, making no effort to recover his towel.
"As you may have realized, my career in Rainbow six is nearing an end. I'm old, fifty-five last I checked. I'll be discharged soon, and when I do it'll be up to you two to continue Czar Peter the Great's fraternal society in Rainbow Six." Tachanka paused.
"As such, I'll be reenacting the initiation ceremony in this apartment tonight. I hope you'd find it in your hearts to send this old man out the same way he came in…"
Looking at the two people across the room, Tachanka waited silently for their response to his request. A moment passed before Glaz stood up, dropped his pants, exposed his own erect penis, and saluted with a tear in his eye.
"Anything for you, sir!" Glaz said steadily before dropping his salute.
The two now looked at Kapkan, who returned their looks with a nervous stare. Kapkan stood up slowly, before dropping his pants too. To Tachanka and Glaz's surprise, Kapkan wore a strap-on, and was no man at all, but a female in drag!
Tachanka quickly drew a Makarov pistol from his rectum and pointed it at Kapkan, "What is the meaning of this deception, Kapkan?"
Kapkan paused and spoke with a nervous stutter, "I wouldn't have joined the army as a woman, and I wouldn't have joined this society as a woman either. Please, let me stay!"
Tachanka lifted his pistol, and Glaz was no longer aiming his marksman rifle at her.
Tachanka spoke first, "I'll allow it, but keep that thing on," he gestured at the strap-on, "there carries a toll, a deception like this."
Tears welled in Kapkan's eyes, "I accept the punishment…"
Tachanka approached, "Kneel on the carpet, and wear this hood," he picked up a conveniently placed black executioner's hood from his luggage.
Kapkan did as directed, and now sat kneeling, wearing an obscuring hood.
Glaz spoke first this time, "Do you hear that? Did we forget to invite Fuze?"
Tachanka pressed his palm to his helmet, "That's who I was forgetting," a faint screwing sound came from outside by the window, "do you hear that?"
A small blast went off, followed by a memorable, "Thwoop, thwoop, thwoop!" as three objects the size and shape of hockey pucks shot into the room.
In unison, both Glaz and Tachanka shouted, "Сука блят!"
Blinding light and an ear-piercing blast filled the apartment three times. Tachanka lie on the floor, pressing his hands to the sides of his helmet in a vain effort to cover his ears. He screamed in pain for both his eyes and his ears, and yet was unable to hear himself.
Regaining his vision, he looked over to see a small hole blown in his wall. Outside the window, a familiar and unfamiliar man held a rappelling cable and leaned back before bursting through the window. Fuze immediately had a gun trained on Tachanka.
"Did you miss me?!" He shouted in an accusative, sarcastic tone.
"Fuck, man! We forgot!"
Fuze paused for a moment, showing no emotion through his paintball mask, "Oh… sorry".
"It's all good, блят." Tachanka felt pain shoot through his back as he stood up.
"At least they were just flash-bangs" Glaz announced.
"Speak for yourself, Урод. Fuze! One of your pucks hit me in the head!"
Fuze took a moment to look at Kapkan in her condition, wearing a hood and kneeling on the floor, "I guess you looked like a hostage so I Fuzed you reflexively."
Everyone except Kapkan let out a hearty chuckle, "So, why are we meeting tonight?" Fuze asked.
"I'm going to be discharged soon, and wanted to reenact the initiation so you know how to initiate the next guy." Tachanka replied.
"You can't be serious?" Fuze looked around expectantly, "Tonight? It must be negative twenty degrees out there!"
Tachanka replied quickly, quoting his initiator, "is it ever not negative twenty degrees out there?"
Fuze squatted down with his hands on the sides of his helmet. After a few seconds, he stood back up, "where have you been keeping the bike?
Tachanka reached out and patted his luggage, "I brought ладя with me."
An hour passed, and with the combined effort of the four Spetsnaz the diabolical bicycle had been assembled. A Frankenstein's monster of a tandem bike, it had been put together in such a way that it was now propelled by a locomotive. The locomotive was in turned powered by the pelvic thrusts of the four riders.
Tachanka rose from his squatting position and patted his seat, second from the front, "We're going for a ride to Estonia. Put your masks back on, Vladimir doesn't take too kindly to our antics.
Each person grasped their half-liter of vodka and each drank it in a single, unbroken swig. Lubricating their penises and strap-on with the limited-edition Kalashnikov vodka, they fixed themselves to each other atop the bike. Glaz sat up front as the pilot, Tachanka behind him as the navigator, Fuze in third as the last to arrive, and Kapkan in the back to preserve the sanctity of Czar Peter the Great's society.
Positioning themselves atop the stairs, Kapkan let out the first thrust, effectively penetrating Fuze in a grand act of pegging. The raw, powerful kinetic energy from Kapkan's thrust sent Fuze forward, penetrating Tachanka's steel gluteus maximus. Tachanka's energy combined with theirs, obliterating Glaz's anus and sending their bike down the stairs.
Glaz handled the bike and Tachanka's skin flute with skill, guiding them down the stairs and down his rectum. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, they rocketed out with their cocks out into the frigid streets of Vilnius. Pulling a hard right, Glaz steered them north towards Estonia where the next apartment waited for them.
The night was a test of mettle, as it was during all of their initiations. The cold bit at their extremities, but each other's rectums and friction kept them warm. Many loads were blown and lost each other's rectal cavities on that chilly night. However, as the sun began to rise, they saw the buildings of Riga on the horizon, becoming their tired, frostbitten, dilated anuses onward.
Eventually reaching the next safehouse, the rode inside and dismounted the bike and each other. They all came in for a group hug, feeling tears of comradery in their eyes.
"We'll miss you, Tachanka." Glaz said through his tears.
They broke up into a huddle, hearing Kapkan speak first, "thank you for letting me participate this last time. It was an honor to a part of this."
Tachanka paused, "perhaps we can allow you to stay, but you must always ride at the back. Not because you are lesser for being a woman, but because the threat that heterosexuality poses to this group is immense, and can not be allowed in, even for a moment."
He saw Kapkan's head lower in disappointment, "however, note that in the back you are the rhythm of the ride, it was you that sent us down the stairs. It takes power to do that, it takes will to start a voyage the likes of this."
Kapkan raised her head to meet Tachanka's gaze; based on her eyes widening and narrowing simultaneously, he concluded that his words brought a smile to her face.
"To the rest of you, my deepest thanks for being here to send me off. Give my regards to the new guy."
Silently, they put on the clothes they had left there, and each hailed a separate taxi or bus to take them back to Vilnius. Tachanka stayed behind to disassemble the bike. Sadness and reverence weighed heavily on his heart, but also a deep-seated joy. He had lived his dream of being part of the society, and getting to relive the best night of his life. Standing up, adorned with civilian clothes for the first time in recent memory, he started his walk to the door.
Swinging the door open, he saw not an empty hallway, but swirling mass of light and space. A vortex that manipulated the very fabric of time, space and reality. A gloved hand reached through it, its palm open as if to shake his hand. Tachanka looked at it and saw that it was indeed his glove.
Tachanka reached out and grasped the hand hard, hearing a voice in his ear loud enough to be heard over the hardbass that was constantly playing in his helmet.
Straining his ears, he heard, "LMG mounted, and loaded!"