"Sir, you requested me?" Raven asked, entering the briefing room, where several generals were assembled. He did not recognise most of the faces, though he knew for a fact the white bearded man third to the right was White's direct superior from Moscow. Raven could tell the General was feeling sour, even as he smiled pleasantly. Some pleasantries were exchanged between the uniformed men before they trooped out, escorted by several guardians under White's scrutinising gaze. Only when the last individual had left did he speak.
"Ah, Raven, good of you to join me, take a seat," he pointed to seat in front of the projector. "Despite my protests, high command is determined to bring magical involvement in Afghanistan. Foolish and wasteful, in my opinion, but alas this is out of my hands."
"I thought the General Secretary was determined to withdraw the troops from the country," Raven proffered confusedly. White merely nodded tiredly.
"Correct, but not all in the high command are pleased. While the overall troop numbers will decrease enough to belay any investigation, more elite troops are being rotated in to maintain combat effectiveness. Combat operations are projected to increase, high command wants one final decisive victory to force Gorbachev's hand," General White sighed.
"And where do I fit in?"
"As much as I hate to waste an asset like you, General Viol would not be dissuaded once knowing your record and abilities. He essentially wants you to be a one man army, conducting search and destroy missions."
"Caravan?" he asked, causing White to raise a surprised eyebrow. "It would make sense, the tactic has been working. Putting magicals in place of a great number of muggles would deliver similar results with far less attrition on our side," Raven suggested. General White rubbed his stubble thoughtfully.
"The very point the generals brought up. I would have thought you more against it."
"Make no mistake, I am against intervention in Afghanistan, but it is not my place to comment on the grand strategy of the Kremlin. My duties are limited to an operational level and ensuring strategies are implemented to achieve the overall objectives of Moscow," Raven shrugged. "It can't be any worse than the deployment in Chechnya."
"I would hope you avoid repeating that," General White reprimanded sternly. "Six of my guardians had to be admitted to therapy after what you did in those caves. The locals have come up with a name for you. The demon."
"I take it my request for operating solo has been approved?"
"Yes, for all our sakes," the General chuckled with humour. "We captured a logistics coordinator in a raid in Eastern Afghanistan. Magical, and proving tough for even the guardians deployed so far. You're to interrogate him and launch search and destroy missions on the convoys."
"Doesn't this violate the statute?" Raven asked with furrowed brows. General White nodded unconcerned, and he dropped the point.
"You're to leave no witnesses."
"So, command has approved deployment of hellfire?" Raven asked, a tinge of excitement displacing his prior stoicism. White rolled his eyes, but nodded nonetheless, a wry smile on his lips.
"You like that spell far too much, Raven," White reprimanded half-heartedly. "Energy, Water and now Fire, I don't suppose you plan on completing the set?"
"In time," Raven nodded, causing the General to smile.
"That will be a glorious day," he mused wistfully, before sobering. "But enough of that. Your plane departs in six hours and there is a bottle of Vodka calling my name."
-Break-
The first thing he felt when disembarking from the plane was the heat, sweltering hot gusts of air blasting him. Sweat soon formed on his brow, even as he was still descending down the ramp to the ground, where two officers were waiting for him. Both saluted, and he returned it, leading them towards the compound.
"What is the situation guardian…"
"Olympus, sir," the man supplied. "Abdullah Yusuf Azzam, major link between Pakistan and the insurgents, was captured in a raid in Eastern Afghanistan. We have a very limited window of opportunity seeing as Azzam is due to meet the Pakistani in approximately three days, assuming they don't get word of his capture prior."
"How is his occlumency?"
"Extremely tough, sir. His outer walls are nigh impenetrable, and the few times we nearly got in, we sensed there were mental safeguards that would have self-destructed his mind," the guardian answered as they entered the building, saluted by two more muggle soldiers.
A fan was slowly churning wind in one corner, the rattling dominating the room, with a guard snoozing on the desk. Without missing a beat, Raven pulled his pistol out and shot the man clean in the head before proceeding down the corridor, passing several cells containing prisoners. Some were mumbling prayers, others sleeping, though a few curious ones banged against the metal doors.
At the end of the corridor, a pair of guards once again saluted them, before one pulled out a set of keys, unlocking it and allowing him access inside. Nodding to them, he stepped into the room, and saw that a man was tied to a chair, with a hood over his head. Raven send in a soft legilimency probe, only for it to be quickly rebuffed, and for the man to snap awake, yelling out several arabic curses.
Sighing, Raven yanked off the hood, looking the man in the eyes. His most prominent feature was a beard that featured two strips of grey flanking a black middle and his narrowed brown eyes.
"Who are you?" he demanded, only for Raven to ignore the man, attempting a legilimency strike again. This time, he made it further before the connection was cut again. Frowning, Raven pulled out his knife, and stabbed it in the man's gut, causing him to wince in pain. Waiting several moments for the acid to begin pouring out and dissolving his inner tissues, causing the man to squirm, he entered his mind once again.
Ruffling through the memories, he knew that he was against the clock. He found himself in a large library, filled with hundreds of corridors, and thousands of keys scattered on the floor. Wandering down one of the corridors, he pulled out several books, which had golden keys depicted in them.
Sighing, he wracked his brain, feeling memories slowly implode as the captive's mind began to self-destruct.
"Keys...keys...keys," he ran towards the end of one of the corridors, to see that it was a golden door with a keyhole for it. Frowning, he scavenged for several moments for a bronze key, before the answer hit him in the head.
Laughing at the distraction, he picked up a random onyx key and jammed it into the key, causing the door to unlock. He stepped outside, and continued rummaging through the memories as he felt the mindscape begin to crack, causing rifts of darkness and chaos to begin reverberating.
Not giving up his search, he rummaged through several more memories, until he found what he needed, smiled, and quickly left the mindscape, to see that several soldiers had entered the room, desperately trying to stop the bleeding while cursing.
"Let him die, he's of no use," Raven ordered, causing one of the guardians to protest.
"Command said he had vital inf-"
"I have the information already, imbecile! Take me to the general. Now!" he barked, causing the guardian to flinch and quickly lead him back out the prison and through the camp, navigating around barracks, depots and other facilities, until they came across a large tent. Holding the flap, he allowed Raven to enter, where several officials were crowded around a table, on top of which a large map of Afghanistan rested.
"Ah Raven, you're here earlier than expected," the man in charge, Marshal Sergei Sokolov, greeted. "Trouble?"
"A convoy will depart from Chaman in two hours towards Kandahar. In one hour, a major attack in Kabul will take place to try and divert attention."
"Nonsense, intelligence reports stated that the convoy would take another three days, and would depart from Peshawar," one of the generals protested. He looked to say more, until a stern glare from the marshal silenced him.
"You are certain of this?"
"As certain as the fact that there will be unenriched uranium as part of the delivery, marshal," Raven supplied, causing several confused and agitated conversations to erupt at once.
"Silence!" the marshal yelled, and the tent quickly fell silent. Turning back to Raven, he questioned, "You are certain?"
"It is the truth as far as the prisoner was concerned," Raven answered. "I can only provide what the prisoner believes they know."
"And you believe the information?" the elderly marshal challenged. Raven shrugged.
"I defer to your expertise. I'm unfamiliar with the war here, I was deployed in Chechnya."
The marshal pondered for several moments in a tense silence before sighing. "This report, however unlikely, is too much to ignore. We'll have to rush troops to the South if this is the case. Capturing the uranium will give us a casus belli against Pakistan and finally bring us a victory."
"Marshal we can't possible get the forces ready in two hours! The l-"
"Might I suggest you air drop me in? I will take care of the convoy's guards, and await relief from a force from Kandahar. It is the only probable way we will be able to capture it."
"You believe you could succeed?" one of the Generals snidely demanded. Raven nodded, unflinchingly.
"I can hold the convoy for two hours. That is the time it will take the Pakistanis to launch an air strike. That gives you three hours to assemble a task force and deploy to the area." All in the tent waited tensely as the marshal rubbed his forehead tiredly.
"Very well. Antropov, get this man a plane! Sitrov, assemble me a team of spetsnaz and prepare them for deployment. Venot, alert the Kabul garrison of trouble." The tent was suddenly a flurry of activities as aides rushed behind their commanding officers relaying orders, though Raven ignored this, until a lieutenant gestured for him to follow while barking orders in the radio.
They wandered through the tents at a brisk pace, until arriving at a dirt airstrip, where an Antonov An-32 sat waiting, its twin turboprops already spinning. "The plane has been diverted from another airdrop. Best of luc, sir."
Raven nodded in thanks, boarding the plane and barking an order for the pilot to take off. The plane quickly rumbled off the runway, lifting into the air.
-Break-
"We've spotted the convoy, sir. Good luck!" the pilot announced over the intercom. Raven pushed open the door and leapt, descending downwards from the sky like a dive bomber. Down below, he saw a convoy of some twenty odd trucks speeding through the desert roat, kicking up a cloud of dust and sand behind them.
As he closed in on the ground, he willed the air beneath him to thicken, providing additional resistance and causing him to slow his descent until he was hovering around thirty meters above, providing a nice bird's eyes view.
He heard a shout of arabic curses, and several trucks ground to a halt as troops poured out. Those were the targets safe to destroy and he sent several blasts of fire at them, engulfing them in flames and causing them to chain in explosions one after the other, incinerating many of the troops alive and ensuring the rest would be in no condition to fight.
He observed the rest of the convoy, which began to speed up, weaving off into all directions in the desert in an attempt to try and throw him off. Annoyed, he concentrated, feeling energy pulse within him as it gathered, before he released it in a burst, having the same effect as an emp and causing all the trucks to crawl to a stop, their electric equipment fried.
Several soldiers proceeded to come out the trucks, all of which he swiftly eliminated with blasts of fire. He paid little attention to their screams, instead walking up to the first truck he knew was still occupied. He didn't pay attention to the man's raised hands, raising his pistol and shooting him through the window and causing his body to slump onto the driver's wheel.
Walking to the next, he shot the man.
Then again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
And then there was silence, with him being the only living soul for kilometers. Staring at the desert sun, he sighed, feeling the toll of performing so much magic already begin to affect his body. Crawling in the back of one of the trucks, he eyed its contents only to nearly fall back out in surprise.
Six cylindrical casts sat innocently in the truck, secured in place by a series of metal chains wrapping around them. Painted on the side was the infamous sign of radioactive material. "Of all the trucks…"
Still muttering to himself, he climbed out of the back of the truck and walked to its front, eyeing the dead engine distastefully. Yanking open the hood of the car, revealing a perfectly preserved engine. Sighing, he eyed the battery, sitting so innocently still. Flaring his aura to act as a shield, he fired a small pulse of energy at it, causing the engine to whir back to life, and a smile to emerge on his face.
Boarding the truck, he sighed in despair when he realised the truck did not have an airconditioning unit. Grumbling, he stepped on the pedal, beginning the slow drive up North.
-Break-
"Marshal, I have a gift for you," Raven announced, stepping inside the tent. All activity ceased for a moment as the assembled staff stared at him in shock before a bevy of questions were shouted at him.
"Enough!" the marshal yelled, clearly short on temper. "Where the fuck were you? We thought you dead! It's been four days!"
"I had to drive a half dead truck through the desert day and night, cut me some slack, marshal. No doubt your vaunted elite units failed to recover anything before the air strike, but I managed to get the most important piece of evidence," Raven snorted.
"Three hundred are dead, another sixty are injured!" General Sitrov bellowed.
"Quiet!" the marshal hissed, causing the man to reluctantly take a deep breath and nod. Turning back to Raven, he muttered, "I don't suppose it would be too much to hope you recovered the radioactive material?"
"Six cylinders, perfectly preserved," he answered, causing the marshal to nearly trip over himself. Waving off the aide that rushed to his side, waved for Raven to take him to see. Raven led the entourage of staff through the various tents, until they returned to the beat up truck.
Climbing upwards, the Marshal fell backwards onto the sand, laughing as he made a sand angel, causing several troops in the vicinity to visibly bite back laughs while the general staff watched incredulously, all scrambling to climb aboard the dingy truck for a look themselves.
"Dirty bombs, you've saved the revolution, agent," the Marshal exclaimed cheerfully, bouncing up and shaking his hand. "I see White's recommendations of you were an understatement if anything. You're going to be the single greatest asset in this war."
-Break-
Raven sighed inwardly as he crept through the fifth series of tunnel complexes in a month. They were all the same: dingy, dark and devoid of his target, the elusive 'enigma'. Crawling through the tunnels, he stopped at the sight of two guards, about to knock them both out with bullets to the head when he decided better against it, listening in to their conversation.
"The boss has been getting nervous, the Soviets are somehow getting close. Why, the base up North...it was...melted...ugh, I never want to even think about it," the first guard shuddered to his companion, who merely rolled his eyes.
"It can't be that bad, can it? Probably just a gas explosion, I-"
"The boss isn't stupid, he's already preparing to move further underground. The convoy should arrive to pick him up in a few hours," the first guard muttered. Raven had heard enough, and quickly pounced from his hiding spot, shooting the first guard in the head. The second guard had only time to widen his eyes before his head too was penetrated by 5.45mm round courtesy of the union.
Stalking forward determinedly, he eyed the door for several moments, only to realise that it was only openable from the inside. Sighing, he pressed his palm against it, willing heat to it, and causing the door to begin to glow a molten red before several chunks started to fall off. He heard panicked shouts from the other side, but didn't care. He was so close, he wouldn't screw this up!
As enough of a hole was formed, he climbed through, blocking several salvos of bullets with a flick of his wrist before banishing them back towards their shooters, causing several men to collapse to the ground, riddled with the bullets.
Without stopping for a second to examine the carnage, he continued through the guard room, down a hallway. Only one cluster of life forms was moving away from his position, and he began sprinting towards it, completely disregarding the guards trying to block his path.
He passed by a kitchen, an armoury, several break rooms and dormitories, but paid little attention, his focus solely on catching up to the fleeing group.
As he neared them, he could hear various shouts of panic, before the entire cavern began to rumble and rocks began to tremble. Several shards of stone fell from the roof, nearly skewering him, even as he deflected them with a casual wave of his hand, not slowing for a moment.
Explosions began to roar through the complex from where he had come through, and Raven let out a spew of curses, not running not only to capture the damned Enigma, but also to survive. As he neared the end of the tunnel, he cursed to see one of the guards hastily toss a grenade back into the tunnel before sealing the door shut.
Letting out a scream of frustration, he felt the rocks tumble onto him and bury him.
-Break-
"Over here!" he heard a voice call out, and the rubble shifted slightly. Raven lifted out his head weakly, ignoring the sensation of rock grinding onto the back of his head, as the rubble shifted, before suddenly a blast of light impacted his face, moments before it was covered by the worried face of a guardian.
He felt the rocks surrounding being pulled loose, allowing him to be carefully extracted from the debris. There were several pieces of rock lodged into him, and two medics quickly approached, beginning to cast diagnostic spells, even as the lead guardian asked, "Are you alright, sir?"
"No," Raven ground out bitterly. "We're back at the fucking start again!"
"Not necessarily," the guardian replied with a mysterious smile, before sensing Raven's magic flare up dangerously and raising two placating hands, his intent to string the agent along quickly disappearing. "We captured Enigma fleeing in a hastily assembled convoy three clicks Northwest. They didn't even put up much of a fight, I think you spooked them sir."
For the first time in weeks, Raven smiled.
-Break-
He entered the interrogation room, where the large, broad chested Enigma was strapped to the metal surgical table by the wrists and ankles. He looked up, before letting out a snort. "Child interrogators? How far the mighty Soviets have fallen!"
Raven didn't respond verbally, instead pulling out a knife and stabbing him in the gut, causing the man to heave, before cursing, "You're supposed to ask a question first, dimwit."
"Oh no," Raven smiled dangerously, "You'll be begging for me to listen by the time I'm finished with you."
With that, he caressed the man's hands almost softly, before lifting his thumb. Despite his bravado, the man couldn't help a shudder at the gleam in Raven's eyes. Pulling his blade from the man's gut, he pressed the tip underneath Enigma's right thumb, before pushing forward, peeling off the nail in one fell swoop and causing the man to scream.
Raven waited patiently until the screams died down to a sob, before pressing his blade to the man's index finger, and repeated the motion, causing yet another howl of pain. The man was clearly sobbing now, though Raven's frustrations had hardly been sated. Moving to the middle finger, he repeated the motion, followed by the ring finger, followed by the pinky.
Stepping back, he observed his handiwork, as the man's fingers were slowly bleeding out now, five patches of deep red throbbing where his nails should have been. Raven smiled, innocently, prancing over to the other side, and the man let out a whimper as he repeated the motions five times, until his hands were now equally throbbing in pain, but still staring back defiantly.
"Is that the best you've got, kid?" he barbed. "I've seen children do better than you."
Raven merely smiled innocently, pressing his blade on the man's thumb and causing a hiss of pain. But that slowly devolved into screams as he peeled along the finger, then along the arm, only stopping at the shoulder with a flick of wrist, cutting the long strap of skin off and allowing it to fall to the ground. There was a track of missing skin, hissing a sickly pink hue. The man whimpered as he placed a blade along a second finger, slowly peeling and repeating the process. Then a third, then a fourth, then a fifth...until half of the skin on Enigma's arms had been peeled off.
"Is that all?" the man hissed, though with clearly less bravado than before. Raven merely shrugged amused, placing his blade on the man's chest and beginning to peel, humming a merry tune even as the two guardians guarding the cell appeared queasy.
-Break-
"I'll talk! I'll talk!" he pleaded, before Raven placed a finger on his mouth, silencing the terrified man. His body could be more accurately be described as a collection of bone, blood vessels and internal organs suspended in place by patches of muscle and Raven's magic. The skin on his body was completely missing, and the skull had been partially exposed at the top. One of his eyes had been burnt black, while the other was missing from its socket entirely.
"I know you'll talk. But we're not done."
-Break-
Raven stood to the side as Enigma babbled information while a Soviet interpreter hastily translated while a scribe jotted down notes. Boredly, he toyed with his blade, noting how Enigma seemed to tense whenever the blade landed in his palm with a solid 'thwack'. Even if the two men looked uncomfortable at this, they daren't ask him to stop.
"And there are underground tunnels from Kirataka where drugs are smuggled out in exchange for weapons! That's all I know I swear!" he finished. The two men looked eager for an excuse to leave the mangled body and forget all this by drowning in vodka, though Raven waved for them to remain seated, which they reluctantly did so.
"That is all?" Raven asked sweetly, pressing his blade into the hollow cavity of Enigma's left eye hole and drawing circles, causing whimpers of pain to escape. "That means you're useless to high command then, and all for me to play."
He almost sung the last part, causing the man to whimper, shaking his head frantically. "No! No! I know more! Bullion deposits! Agents within the Union! I'll talk! Just...keep this monster away from me!"
"Aww...and here I thought you'd enjoyed your time with me," Raven sighed playfully, tapping the flat side of his blade against the man's cheek. "Please don't talk...I would always love to continue...playing."
The room's steel door opened, and a guardian reluctantly beckoned for him to exit, Giving the man one last pat, he stalked out of the room, following the man towards the observation room adjacent .
Entering, he saw that much of the command staff in Afghanistan had gathered. The marshal turned to him shakily, beginning, "That was…"
"Fucking disturbing," a pale Antropov hissed, looking at Raven fearfully, as though he might be next. Raven merely hummed merrily in response.
"Constantine!" the marshal rebuked weakly, clearly shaken as well. "While Raven's methods might be...extreme, their results cannot be denied."
"I've heard rumours from Chechnya. I refuse to be in the same room as that...that demon!" the man blurted out."
"That can be arranged," Raven smiled sweetly, his eyes glowing with magic and causing the man to fall on his rear backing up. Standing up in indignation, he quickly scampered out of the room. While no one else left, many looked as though they would like nothing more than to follow. "What a shame, he doesn't want to play."
"I think," the marshal queased, "that you will be on caravan duty from now on."
"Excellent," Raven smiled happily. "Six more months, then I'm back under General White. Let's see how high I can raise my body count, no?"-Break-
He sat in his tent boredly, playing with his knife, when Raven heard the rumble of engines. A bright smile now on his face, he leapt out of the tent and climbed the sand dune, looking over to see that there was a small convoy of eight trucks guarded by several jeeps armed with anti-aircraft guns. Unfortunately for them, he was already on the ground.
He concentrated inward, and conjured a massive ball of flames, hurling it towards the convoy. The lead car quickly swivelled out of the way, narrowly missing the concentrated blast, though the truck behind it was not so lucky, erupting into a large fiery wreck.
"Come out to play," he called out in arabic, causing panicked shouts to erupt as several cries of 'demon' were heard. "Huh, maybe that's how I developed such a reputation."
Stepping out, he immediately was assaulted by concentrated fire from a dozen rifles crackling in the night, while more troops moved to join in, leaping off their trucks. He raised a hand, stopping all the bullets by compressing the air in front, causing them to hover. The sight caused many to panic and stop firing, watching in awe.
With a smile, he flicked his wrist, and the bullets flew backwards, striking many of the insurgents, while the rest ricocheted off the plating of the vehicles or lodged into the sand. He felt several anti-aircraft turrets swivel around to aim at him, and the large caliber rounds forced him to raise a shield, absorbing the rounds rather than toy around. With a hiss, he sent blasts of energy towards the mounted turrets, destroying them one by one until only the sound of whimpers from injured soldiers remained. Stalking through the camp, he pulled out his pistol and shot the few survivors, until only the silence of the night remained.
With a satisfied nod, he disapparated.
Author Note:
A longer chapter to compensate for the prior one. So Raven is finally sent to Afghanistan, you knew this was inevitable given its significance in Soviet history. I am pleased to have been able to involve the story of caravans in here, a commonly misunderstood aspect of the war. As Pakistan was supplying the rebels with equipment and material, the Soviets decided to cut off this supply route. Thus they would airdrop special units at night, who would camp in the desert and ambush convoys. However, these units were often outnumbered and largely unable to count on air support or backup, and left to survive. While the tactic was successful, this left a scar on the soldiers involved. There is a song titled 'Caravan' from the perspective of a soldier that recounts this. Do you want to see more of his deployments? Or would you rather skip to him leaving Afghanistan? Leave your thoughts in the comments! Otherwise, as always, make sure to favourite and follow. I'm pleased to announce that we've passed the major milestone of 1000 viewers! Thank you all! Your support means the world to me! Until next time, toodles.