Hey guys! This is my first attempt at a Teen Titans story, so if I get something wrong I do apologize in advance. Criticism is welcome, so please leave a review and tell me what you think. Hope ya'll enjoy!
The Ural Mountains are known to Russians as a treasure box of mineral resources. From platinum to amethyst, you could probably find it here.
It being December, it was also freezing cold, Odin thought as he lay on his mountain perch. His winter camouflage uniform blended in well with the snow.
The name was his call sign, given for this particular operation. He actually quite liked it, and thought about seeing if he could make it permanent.
He had made his way up this mountain over six hours ago, having had his perch chosen weeks ahead of time. From it, he had an overhead view of the small facility below, lit up just enough for men to go from one small building to another. He could also make out the small guardhouses, set up at the gates of the chain link fence that surrounded the facility. A couple of men were smoking, no doubt trying harder to get warm than to feed the habit.
The facility was a permanent set up, consisting of six buildings nestled into the valley. The largest building, the main research building, judging by its size and build, was located in the center and of steel build. Another slightly smaller building, around twelve meters to its left, served as the main dining hall, which could house around sixty people, albeit very snugly. The rest were simply large rectangles, each could sleep around twelve to sixteen men. They were set up in a semi circle around the main research building, the farthest being thirty meters behind and to the right of the main research building. The facility itself housed between fifty to sixty people, a handful of which were scientists, a handful more were cooks; the rest were guards.
Not that it really mattered to Odin how many people were there, or what their job occupation was. He was here for one man and one man alone: Professor David Volkov.
A brilliant man, he had heard. He had personally led the research into a new mineral, a mineral so mysterious and yet so powerful. This mineral, called sol, could possibly replace traditional electrical power, and be more energy efficient than solar power. With this brilliant man in the lead, they had a possibility of turning the world of clean energy on its head.
A Pity he would be dead soon.
Such dark times we live in, doctor Volkov, thought Odin, peering through the scope of his suppressed L115A3 sniper rifle. A preferred rifle of his, it operated especially well in extremely cold environments. At his current range, just a little over nine hundred meters, the 338. Lapua round would fly easily to its target, whilst the suppressor would ensure that the sound of the rifle would be faint, if heard at all.
Through the grainy green view of the night vision optic attached to the end of his scope, he frowned as he saw the snow starting to fall a little steadier. If it snowed too hard, he would be unable to take a proper shot at the target.
Judas, you better get done soon, Odin thought. An often-overlooked fact about snipers is they always operate in two man teams. A sniper team consisted of a spotter, the senior of the two who spotted and ranged the targets, and the sniper, who sent lead downrange. Judas was in the process of marking Volkov, seeing that positively identifying him from this distance would be tricky in itself.
Judas, his temporary call sign for the mission, was an inside man in the facility, and thus was able to get very close to his target and mark him. The reason he would have Odin take the shot was because, while Judas could kill him where he was, he also ran the risk of compromising himself, and he would need to maintain his identity within the facility.
Odin could not help but grin to himself at the irony of the name selection. Judas would mark an unsuspecting person who thought of him as a friend, and send him off to his death. A somewhat grim thing to smile about, but he needed a reason to move something, considering how cold it was. Even with the winter gear he had on, he could still feel the chill cutting straight through him at times. In addition, given his prolonged inactivity, it just made it all the worse.
Speak of the devil, he thought as he saw the door to the main research building open. Out of the door way walked two men, who stopped after closing the door and spreading to the side a bit. They were talking, and although he could not hear the words, he was certain they were just making idle chat about the cold. On the other hand, it could have been his hatred for the cold that made him think this. He thought this while subconsciously zeroing his scope to the distance.
These thoughts ceased as he saw the man to the left put a reassuring hand on the mans shoulder. Perhaps he was talking of how good it was to work alongside the man, and how it was an honor to have such a noble project ahead of them.
Regardless of what had been said that led up to it, the message was the same: his target had been marked.
As they went their separate ways, Volkov turned and walked toward the housing building farthest from the research building. He had been informed that Volkov had a small office in that building, and often went there to go over some last minute notes before he fell asleep.
He walked briskly, probably in an effort to get out of the cold as quickly as possible. Odin would grant that wish.
As a sniper, Odin knew you did not simply put the crosshairs on the target. Since the target was moving, and he had to factor in the wind speed (along with a dozen other factors), he used the ambush method. That is, he took the scope and would let the target walk into the line of fire, using the mil dots as direction.
Time seemed to slow at that point, as he began to take a few deep breathes, as to lower his heart rate, which would simultaneously steady his aim. He watched as the target moved, seemingly in slow motion to his point of fire. Slowly, he let out his breath half way and held it, his gloved finger beginning to squeeze the trigger. At the exact moment Volkov entered his point of aim, the rifle coughed in a muffled crack, the round still going supersonic as it left the barrel.
Almost immediately, he saw Volkovs body jerk, his coat rippling a moment from the impact of the bullet just an inch left of the spinal column, meaning he would have hit an artery of some sort. He fell down face first into the snow, too shocked to process what had happened, and finding the effort to try too great. He shifted in his place, trying desperately to get up and get to someone, anyone. Then the movement slowed, time between his shifts were spacing out farther and farther. He would move every other second, every five seconds. Then he just stopped, finally succumbing to a loss of blood and shock.
Odin said nothing. He just looked at the body through the scope. He had done what he had set out to do; he had done what exactly as he had been ordered. So why did he get this voice in his head, asking him in horror, what have you done?!
"Odin, this is Judas, requesting sitrep on target." Judas said over his radio. He didn't know it, but he had been staring at the body for over four minutes now. The round had done its work; he would not be getting back up.
He quickly shook the previous thought off, quickly keying his radio set with the same frequency as Judas, who also had a private office of his own." Judas, this is Odin. Sitrep is as follows: Target confirmed KIA, shot placement at slightly left of the spinal column; near the shoulder, artery possibly severed; there's a lot of blood staining the snow." He said over the radio. He had a surprisingly light voice, one you really would not find all that menacing for an assassin.
A burst of static, " Solid copy on last. Good show, Odin, proceed to extraction."
Odin nodded, although he knew Judas could not see him. "Copy that, Odin out." He picked up his rifle, and began his way down the mountain. There, a snowcat would be waiting, which he would use to drive to the extraction point. In all that time it would take, that voice refused to cease the question. What have you done?!
Eventually, the guards shift would change, and although the falling snow would partially cover the body, they would find Volkov and sound an alert. Nevertheless, that would be hours from now, and by that time it would be too late. Odin would be long gone.
There was more to this situation than met the eye. A mystery Judas would not reveal was exactly why this man needed to die. He knew that there would be an investigation of this, and the entire staff would be checked for any potential involvement in his death. When they turned up nothing, they would then call the one they thought could help, one of Russia's own. He knew what that would lead to, and he knew just who would decide to get involved.
Just the way he had planned it.
_
One of the hardest things about being a leader, is making the hard choices. Choices that could hold dire consequences for yourself or your team should the choice turn out to be the wrong one. This pressure can either make or break any leader, as his ability to think clearly and operate efficiently under these circumstances is the very element that separates those who led, and those who followed.
People often long for power of some sort, and yet many know nothing of how to use it, or how heavily it could weigh in your mind. How much longer would this delay last before he made a decision? How much longer would his team watch and come to doubts of his own leadership ability and question his authority?
For that matter, how much longer were they willing to sit here, stomachs growling, for him just to order?
Ugh, who knew choosing a pizza topping could be so hard? Beast boy thought, rubbing his temples as he stared at the menu in front of him.
He sat at the Pizza Corner in Jump city, along with what was now the Titans west team.
At this moment, it was just him, Cyborg, and Ravager. Not a whole lot of heroes here, but considering everyone else had their own area of operations; it was the best they could manage. Fortunately, Ravager, whose real name was Rose Wilson, was a powerhouse in terms of fighting ability. Being the daughter of Slade, she inherited many of his abilities and thus was as deadly as they came. That, coupled with Cyborgs intellect and firepower, and Beast Boys' ability to transform, they were a force to be reckoned with.
It had been eight years since the Tokyo incident, and the defeat of Commander Uehara Daizo. After they had returned, it seemed that the only thing that had changed was that Starfire and Robin were dating.
Time does odd things, though, and change seemed to be a law of life. So much had happened since then: Robin and Starfire had left the team, Rose Wilson had joined them, and Slade had disappeared. You would think things would be great here.
Yet there was still this hole, felt by all at the table at the absence of their friend.
Raven.
It had been almost two years, and the pain still had not died. They felt it, present and consuming.
There was so much they still did not know. They didn't know who was responsible, how he had done it, or even what it was he did exactly. All they knew was emptiness.
It took almost six months for there to be a shred of normality returning to the tower. Titans everywhere visited them, showing their sympathy to them and tried to comfort the team. Beast Boy had been absent the whole time, preferring to just stay in his room. Not even Cyborg, the changelings' best friend, could break him out of his grief.
There was no doubt he had taken it the hardest of all of them. It took three months for him just to carry on a conversation beyond that of " Yeah" "No" or "I don't care".
Nearly two years later, here he was, still cracking a joke or two in bad situations. He still wasn't back one hundred percent, he probably never would be. But, as Cyborg noted to Rose when she said the exact same thing," It's better than him doing nothing but eat, sleep, and work."
" Anytime before pigs fly, pipsqueak." Rose said, her voice bordering between amused and annoyed.
Beast boy looked up at them, seeing they were still waiting for him to order. Cyborg was leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head. His expression was Rose was doing the same, but her arms were crossed, her brow raised from beneath her mask.
Beast Boy grinned nervously. Her mask looked so similar to Slade's, despite many differences: First, her mask only covered half of her face and was made from cloth, with long ties in the back to secure it in place; the second was that her mask was blacked out on the left side of her face, rather than the right, and the right eye was covered much like robins mask. However, unlike Slade, she still had both her eyes.
Moreover, both of them were probably boring into the changeling. He had no idea how long he had been trying to decide, but knew by both of their expressions that it had been awhile.
So with that, he looked at the waiter, handed them the menu, and said," We'll have the usual."
The waiter looked down at his note pad," That would be three sixteenths tofu-veggie, one quarter mega meaty meat,"
"Murderer," Beast boy mouthed to Cyborg while the waiter took a pause for breath.
"One third spicy buffalo chicken and ranch, and one eighths regular pepperoni?" The waiter finished, looking at the trio.
" That'd be it." The three piped up.
As the waiter went back in, Cyborg looked at the green man in front of him." Murderer? Really, B'?" Cyborg asked, his hands gestured out ward.
" Hey, I call it as I see it." The changeling replied," Besides, do you even know how many animals could be killed on account of your carnivorous tendencies?"
" All I'm saying, is if animals weren't meant to be eaten, they wouldn't be made of meat." Cyborg retorted. He was actually surprised at his dialogue, probably a side effect of being around Raven so much.
Cyborg then frowned; Guess she left a little piece of herself in him, He thought.
Suddenly, Beast Boys' communicator started buzzing. Brow raised, he fished it out of his pocket and opened it up.
" Hello comrades." Instantly, all three knew who had called.
" Russian dude!" Beast Boy nearly shouted in excitement. All this time, and yet his nick name for the Russian had not changed at all." It's been forever, dude!"
" That it has, comrade." Red Star replied, managing a small smile. Still, there was something wrong, and the changeling picked up on it.
" So what's up on your end?"
There was a pause as the Russian chose his next words." There was an incident in the Ural Mountains," He explained." A man was killed."
Silence. This kind of thing never traveled lightly to the Titans, and it always gave them both a sense of grief and resolve. There was grief of the loss of life, and the resolve to ensure that it ended there. He continued.
" From the file I have received, the victims name was David Volkov, a scientist leading a study on a potential energy source. He was well respected by his colleagues, which makes it odd that he was killed. I would personally investigate this, but Andre Le Blanc is also robbing Siberian banks, and I have to focus matters on him."
"So you want us to fill in and take the case?" Cyborg asked, having rose from his seat and taken position behind the changeling.
"Da, Cyborg. As I have said, I am unable to be there for this investigation, and you three have the fastest means to get here."
Beast Boy leaned back in his chair, as the waiter came out with their pizza. He looked at the waiter and asked." Could you pack that to go?"
" Of course." He turned around, a bit puzzled but accepting it as it was.
The green shape shifter turned to his friends and said." Team, pack your things: We're going to Tibet." He then shifted into a bird and flew down to the T-car, leaving his communicator on the table.
Rose looked at Cyborg, brow raised, as did Red Star." Comrade knows the Urals are in Russia… correct?"
Cyborg shook his head." Beast Boy and Geography never got along; that's why I fly."