Aronoff Fedorov stomped his way inside, out of the pouring rain. Winter in southern Russia was long and very wet.
"That was a very good drill, don't you think?" He took off his plastic poncho and hung it on a coat hook, next to his large, green officer's cap.
"The men did very well, Colonel, sir." The orderly followed Colonel Fedorov into the next room, opening the blinds, as Aronoff liked them.
"Yes, they did. I was especially pleased with that new sergeant, Popov. He knows how to lead a squad of men."
"I agree, Colonel, sir."
"But, what to do with Kyovik? He's a little hothead. You saw the way he reacted out there when we threw in some variables."
"Perhaps we should consider moving him to another unit, Colonel, sir." Aronoff leaned back in his old wooden chair, the spring adjust screaming in protest. He tented his fingers in front of his lips and pursed them. Still thinking, he scratched behind his ear, digging through the blue fur to find a tick that crawled on. He flicked it across the room and continued scratching behind his ear.
"Perhaps," Colonel Fedorov thought. The phone rang. Fedorov looked at his orderly with an expectantly raised eyebrow.
"Colonel Matkovich Fedorov's office," the orderly greeted. "Oh, uhm, one moment." He looked down at his commander.
"Who is it?"
"He says his name is Matkovich Fedorov." Aronoff made a grunt of acknowledgement and took the phone out of the orderly's hand, waving him off.
"Brother!" Aronoff exclaimed, tilting his head and smiling.
"Aronoff, it has been too long," Matkovich said, his Russian having picked up a western accent since they last spoke. He now actually pronounced 'R' sounds, instead of just rolling an 'L'. "How is Nadia?"
"We--" Aronoff held his breath for a moment. "We're getting a divorce." Matkovich cringed slightly. He knew they wouldn't be able to stay together after what happened.
"That is sad news, brother," Matkovich sighed. Aronoff decided to get the conversation quickly out of the gutter.
"Anyway, what can I do for you?"
"Well, Aronoff, I could use your help."
"You're not in trouble, are you?"
"No, no, I'm not. I'm still one of the 'good guys'." The two Fedorovs smiled at the comment from opposite ends of the connection. "I need your unit's help, to be more specific." When there wasn't an answer, Matkovich continued. "I'm tracking a group of criminals into Chechnya. I need a military unit to assist in capturing them."
"I don't think that's possible," Aronoff said without hesitation. "I would need approval from someone higher-up, if you understand."
"Aronoff," Matkovich said slowly, "They're not just criminals."
"I don't understand."
"Georgii." The Colonel's eyes went wide, then narrowed in rage.
"Them? The bastards that killed my son?" Aronoff's mind raced back a few months. Returning home to a crying wife, the policeman's funeral, the total lack of any enthusiasm to capture the murderers. It made his blood boil to just think about it.
"Yes." Matkovich didn't tell his brother that the one to pull the trigger was given his freedom just an hour ago.
"Where are you?" Aronoff demanded, ready for immediate action. "I will send a transport to drive you here."
"Unnecessary, brother. We're on a flight to Volograd now."
"We?"
Matkovich looked to his left, to Fox, and switched ears to which he held her cellular phone. "Yes. We. I'm bringing Inspector Fox along. It's her case."
"I don't understand."
"Don't worry, Aronoff. We'll be there soon." He closed the connection and handed the phone back to Carmelita.
"I've got to learn Russian," she muttered, totally unable to decipher any of the conversation.
Elser followed Jerry into the garage. There they were, eleven of them.
"Big," John said, stepping close to the third one in the row.
"The Chinese built them specifically to carry tanks," Jerry said, both hands firmly behind his back.
"Jerry?" Bauer called. Jerry jumped a little, startled. Elser couldn't help but notice.
"Y-yes?" Jerry called back.
"They're all here. Care to meet them?" Bauer led the two men into another room of the garage, where the sounds of several dozen men chatting emanated from. They were all dressed in Russian Army uniforms. The pattern was called 'tanwater', because it looked not unlike the way light reflected off still water, only in shades of green and light brown instead of blue. A fox with bleached-white hair, in stark contrast to his dark red fur, appeared and addressed Bauer.
"Good morning, sir," he said in Russian.
"Good morning, Stephanos," was the reply.
"He speaks Russian, too?" Elser asked. Jerry looked over his shoulder.
"Of course. He's very methodical." The greyhound shrugged. "They all are." Bauer turned to his leader.
"Jerry, we're ready whenever you are. But, first, I must make a suggestion." Bauer pointed to the black suits the other two men wore. "I suggest OMON uniforms. You'll blend in a little better."
A/N: We're getting closer... I know these parts are short, but there's a lot of gaps in the chronology, and the only way to make them seem more justified is to break this up into short parts. Keep track of the updates and be paitent.