"…Our country is strong, we go forward to defend freedom, and all that is good, and just, in our world..."

-George W. Bush

Somewhere in Russia….

The clouds above him were dark, smothering out any hope of sunlight, and surrounding him in a cool breeze. At his feet the dirt was cold and damp from rain, his feet, even in the standard issued Tan Jungle Combat boots, were slipping around in the mud. His gear laid beside him in the mud off to his right, a simple Tan MOLLE vest and kneepads. On a table on his left sat his Tan baseball combat hat and headset for communicating with his team along with his Tan tactical hard knuckle gloves. He was stripped down to his ACU's and boots, hands tied together in his lap and his jaw sore on the right side from the 6'6" Russian Trooper in front of him delivering a hard left hook to it.

For others, this would be the worst day of their lives, but for Capt., this was just a Tuesday.

"You will talk, American wimp." The Trooper stated, his accent thicker than the stench of meat, potatoes, and vodka emanating from his breath. It cut through the thick black balaclava covering the soldiers face and hit Capts. like a brick.

"Jeez man as long as you keep that stink hole shut." Capts. replied, waving his hand in front of his face, trying to waft the horrific stench away.

He was replied with a punch to the gut. "Tell me why you are here!" The Trooper snarled.

Capts. hunched over, letting out a groan of agony, feeling his lung collapse from the blow and his ribs strain. "I'm here…" He managed to say while gasping for air.

From the tree lining east of the base, a figure lays among the green, hidden using the fallen leaves around him as a make shift camo. The figure adjusts the scope on his silenced Remington MSR sniper rifle. "Sarge, Tweak…" He called into his radio, his ACU Boonie hat blocking light from his eyes. "I got eyes on Capt…"

Through his earpiece he was replied with. "Copy that, moving to position."

The figure rubbed the OD sniper veil wrapped around his face. "Copy, mark four hostiles." He watched the base.

It was a small base, fitted mainly for small squads to stop and resupply at on their long trips through the Motherland. Capts. was sitting in a chair right outside the main building, four Troopers, all in standard infantry gear, including black MICH helmets and balaclavas, were looming around him, watching as one of them interrogates him.

The figure kept his scope sighted on the Trooper interrogating.

The Trooper grabbed Capts. by the throat, clearly growing impatient. "WHY ARE YOU HERE!?"

Capts. grinned and looked into the Russians eyes. "I came to see your sister."

The Trooper pulled his right hand back, going to deliver a hard shot to Capts.s face again.

He was stopped by another Trooper behind him, this one appearing out of the Main Building with several more Troopers.

He was different than the others. He wore the same tactical uniform but instead of the helmet and balaclava he wore a Red Commander Beret and Aviators. He stood at an easy 6'9", and carried himself proudly. His face cold and emotionless as he walks up to Capts., only emotion shown is a half-grin slowly formed on his face as he got close.

"You must be the big kahuna…" Capts. stated, sitting back in the chair and rubbing his throat and jaw. "I got a complaint about this place…" He looked around. "If you're gonna interrogate someone, at least have the decency to introduce yourselves." He shuffled in the chair. "And for the love of god find someone who can interrogate, all I get is Minion number thirty-four man?" He looked over to the guy who was about to punch him. "Hey." He then smirked.

The Commander chuckled, speaking in with a light Russian accent. "I have heard many stories about you, Capt.." He grabbed another chair from the table beside them and sat down in front of Capts.. "I am sure you have heard plenty about me." He took off his glasses, showing one dark brown eye and one light blue, almost silver.

Capts.s everlasting grin turned into scowl, seeing the eyes. "Ivan Razrushitel." He stated in a calm, low voice.

The figure in the trees let out a low snarl. "Be advised, VIP in the vicinity…" He stated into his headset. "The Destroyer has been spotted, mark five more hostiles."

"Copy Lima Charlie…" The headset replied. "In position now, waiting for further orders."

Ivan put his aviators back on. "Why are you here?" He asked Capts., his eyes hidden by the tinted lenses but his eyes locked on Capts..

Capts. felt his eyes on him, sending chills through his body. "Ok, ok, you guys win…" He grinned and looked at Ivan. "I'm here to see YOUR sister."

An eerie grin spread across Ivan's face again, it was menacing and sinister, growing to his ear. "Then you have chosen your fate…" He rose from the small chair, walking away from the group as a black truck pulled up to the base. "Dispose of him." He ordered to the group.

The Trooper interrogating Capts. chuckled, his eyes hidden behind tinted goggles, but the joy and satisfaction could be seen through his movement as he grabbed Capts. by the collar of his shirt, drawing the club back that was his right hand. "Goodnight." He stated before driving the fist into Capts. face.

The punch hit like a cannonball into Capts. nose, the cartilage cracking, Capts. nose was broken. His head popped back, almost completely off his neck with the force. His body moved next, the force carrying his shoulders back first and then the rest of his upper torso, forcing him back into the mud, hitting his head again on a rock beneath, adding to the disorientation.

The figure in the woods snarled. "Please tell me you are in position?" He stated into his headset.

He saw his reply before he heard it, seeing two figures shifting behind nearby crates and boxes conveniently stacked in a pile only a few yards from Capts.. A solid concrete wall blocking the two figures from being spotted from the other buildings in the base, the wall separated the main building from the rest of them, even from the distances he could make out one figures OD colored shirt and ACU pants, and the others ACU's and OD beanie.

The figure with the M249 replied first. "We're in position, Wolf, take it easy." He stated.

Wolf, the sniper in the woods, replied. "Copy that, Sarge, got you in my sights."

Sarge, peeked over the crates, looking at the commotion in front of him. "Doesn't look too tough…" He looked back down at his M249, making sure the suppressor was on tight. "But I could be wrong." He looked back over, keeping low, only allowing his Tan MICH Helmet out of the cover, then quickly snapping his head back down. "Ok I got a visual on Capt.." He rolled up the sleeves of his ACU shirt and popped his neck. "Ready to move."

Wolf shook his head. "Hold position, wait for my mark."

Tweak replied through his headset. "Copy, waiting for your mark." He checked the pouches on his Tan MOLLE vest, making sure his MAG's were loaded for his Mk16 SCAR-L, then checking the ACOG on his rifle.

Sarge checked both his pouches, each on holding an individual box of ammo for his M249, then checked his own HOLO scope.

Both of them peeked over the crates, hearing Capt. working back to his feet.

Capt. was amazed himself that he was even conscious. His head was spinning some and his body weak from the possible concussion. He felt blood running from his nose and the back of his head down his neck. His eyes slowly adjusting and focusing back, his mind slowing and his body regaining its strength. A few seconds later he was standing straight and looking the Russian dead in the eyes.

The Russian chuckled. "Did that hurt?" He asked.

Capt. simply reached his hand up and wiped his finger in the blood from his nose, looking at it then back up to the Russian. "You see this….?" He held up his hand to show the blood, then grinning. "That's what I got out of your sister last night!"

Without thinking, Tweak rose to his feet, facing the soldiers with arms held out. "BURN!" He stated out loud, a large grin on his face.

Silence hit everyone in the camp, including Capt.. The Troopers surrounding him sharing the same look of shock and confusion as Capt., though their faces were hidden behind the masks.

Wolfs head dropped into his hand, shaking his head slowly. "Sarge…" He stated through his headset.

Sarge nodded. "Got it." He picked up his gun, resting it on the crate, aiming at the Troopers. "Hey there." He grinned as he squeezed the trigger, unleashing a flurry of bullets onto the group.

Capt. dropped to his knees, avoiding the wave of shots. He scrambled with his hands tied to the nearest dropped Trooper, grabbing his knife from his Crossdraw vest, slicing at the ties. "Come on…" He snarled, slicing the knife into the rope. "What the hell is this rope made of, kevlar?"

Tweak pulled up his SCAR, aiming at the Troopers going for cover, picking them off as Sarge continues the onslaught of shots.

Wolf picked his head back up, aiming down the scope, spotting a few Troopers heads bobbing up and down from their cover. He steadied his aim and calculated his shots, firing a round for their heads, timing it with their bobbing.

Capt. gave the rope one final slash, quickly pulling his hands apart when the rope fell free from around his wrist. "Finally." He stated as he scrambled into cover.

Sarge drove the last Trooper to the ground with fire before letting off the trigger. "All clear." He stated calmly.

Tweak and slowly shifted up, keeping his gun up and scanning the area around him, watching the crates in case anybody decides to pop out.

Capt. showed his hands to Tweak before climbing out from behind a crate. "It's me." He stated, slowly climbing to his feet.

Tweak grinned and lowered his SCAR. "Happy to see us?" He asked as he drew the M416 from his back, tossing it to Capt..

Capt. caught the gun, quickly snapping it up and firing a round past Tweaks shoulder, striking into the Troopers neck behind him.

The Trooper dropped, blood spurting from his neck from the shot.

Capt. smirked and lowered his rifle, looking at Tweak. "Like a toothache." He walked over to the table, setting down his gun and grabbing the vest and gear, slowly strapping it on. "So you guys are the reinforcements they sent out after me?"

Sarge nodded. "General Bridges sent us personally…" He paused and looked Capt. over. "You must be pretty important if he's that desperate to have you return."

Wolf pulled out a small tactical pad, the screen showing an overhead of the same black truck Ivan drove off in, as well as a small map with a blue blip. "Guys…" He stated into his headset. "UAV's spotted Ivan heading south of our position…" He smirked. "Right along the path of to our Extraction."

Capt. finished with his gear and adjusted his headset, replying. "Copy that, sounds to me like we got one shot to kill two birds."

Wolf put the TacPad away. "Copy."

Capt. turned to Sarge and Tweak walking up to him. "Where's our transport?"

Sarge and Tweak looked at each other before looking back at Capt.

"Yeah about that…" Sarge stated.

Capt. sighed. "You don't have one?"

Tweak nodded. "They wouldn't supply us with one."

Capt. nodded. "Just great." He stated as he looked around. "And how the fuck are we gonna…" He drifted off when he spotted it.

It was covered by a dusty tarp, only the front grill exposed, showing the words JEEP on the front.

Capt. chuckled. "I'll be damned." He walked up, tugging the tarp off the rest of the Jeep, showing a black wrangler, with the bars instead of full body. The back was extended and modified with a mounted Browning Machine Gun on a swivel.

Tweak whistled as he walked up to the car. "I wonder what Russians are doing with a Jeep out here."

Sarge looked over at Tweak. "You're really concerned?"

Capt. jumped into the drive seat, feeling the keys in the ignition. "Oh this is too perfect…" He turned the key.

The engine revved to life, letting out a low rumble. The front lights switched on, bright and wide, the ones above Capts. head stayed off, used only at night.

Sarge climbed in next, position himself at the turret. "Oh come to daddy…" He stated, pulling the lever back, priming the gun.

Tweak climbed in back seat directly behind Capt..

Capt. shifted the Jeep into drive and hit the gas, lurching the vehicle forward and steering it out the main gate of the base.

Wolf followed their departure through his scope, then shifted back to base, looking for any stragglers.

Capt. pulled out a small TacPad of his own, honing it in on Wolfs location. The bleep appeared directly beside them, forcing Capt. to slam on the breaks.

Wolf heard the skid of the tires and looked over to see the jeep pulling up. He rose from his post and moved slowly to the jeep, keeping his scope on the base.

Capt. smirked and watched him move. "How's the view?"

Wolf stopped, dropping to one knee, adjusting his scope as he did. "Just…" A smirk spreads across his face. "Perfect." He then squeezed down on the trigger, firing a silenced round.

Capt. pulled up a pair of binoculars and focused down at the base.

A Trooper had walked out of one of the buildings, apparently oblivious of the assault that had occurred only a few minutes ago, in his hands was a small grey mug, most likely filled with coffee. He wore the same Beret as Ivan but no aviators. He set his coffee down as he looked around at the bodies, as soon as his hand let go of the mug it burst into pieces as the round Wolf shot whizzed by and struck into the dirt a few feet from the Trooper.

The Trooper, shocked by the shot, grabbed his AK and backed slowly back into the building, looking around for the source of the shot.

Capt. chuckled as Wolf loaded into the Jeep. "You know you missed right?" He slammed on the gas and they sped off.

Wolf shook his head. "No I didn't…" He looked up at Capt. "Fucker was drinking Decaf."

As they laughed their radios blared, a voice coming through. "Reaper Actual this is overlord, do you copy?"

Capt. pressed the comms button. "Over lord this is Reaper Actual, we copy."

The voice replied. "Copy Reaper Actual, we are rerouting you to secondary extract."

Raising a brow, Capt. replied. "Copy Overlord, be advised current Extract will be taking us up right behind The Destroyer, do you copy?"

The voice paused before replying. "Copy Reaper actual, be advised previous Extraction point has been compromised by heavy forces, sending you the coordinates to secondary point now."

Wolf looked down at his TacPad and snarled. "This is taking us clear away from Ivan."

Capt. smacked the steering wheel. "Son of a bitch, heavy forces my ass."

Sarge shook his head. "So what, we're going to let him run?"

Wolf sighed. "We got no other choice."

Tweak slammed his fist into the metal frame of the Jeep. "This is fucking bullshit."

Capt. nodded as they drove off the main road, following the GPS. "Welcome to hell."

They continued to drive until they hit the extraction point, greeted by a Transport Helo.

Once loaded up they took off, flying towards base, not realizing their time in hell was just getting started.