... In another part of Vale, four female figures moved through an old warehouse.
They had been here for a little over a month themselves, though one would have expected them all to arrive after the Romanian, save for one of them. They'd been dealing with the White Fang, too, considering whom they were chasing right now. The team's shotgun-toting girl rushed forward, her Saiga-12 ringing loudly. Buckshot and slugs met Whiskey Foxtrot troopers, tearing them apart as she pushed through. She was clad in bog-standard Spetsnaz-tier gear, more westernized than most. Her auto-shotgun had also been severely modernized with an IR laser-normal laser-Flashlight combo, a holographic sight on top and expanded 15-round magazines, each with colored tape to denote the type of ammo.
This one was tapeless, a mixed ammo count of slugs and buckshot. Beside her, two of her compatriots ran. A redheaded Chechen hefted her modded-out AK-105 and fired a silenced burst square into the chest of another White Fang member, staining the white vest with their symbol a deeper shade of scarlet. The redheaded Chechen looked back with a smile and motioned forward the most dressed out of all of them.
Clad in a dark-green shirt, wearing a heavy-duty combat vest and carrying her own kitted AK-105, the young woman was nigh-unrecognizable in her new equipment. Certainly familiar to the trio of other girls, another of which was currently on a flanking route to catch the running enemy Lieutenant off-guard. The leading woman of the team hefted her assault rifle and emptied half a mag into a pair of White Fang that were sat atop a scaffold just ahead of them. Both corpses fell to the floor with sickening wet crunches, blood painting the pavement.
The White Fang Lieutenant that ran barked, "KEEP THESE BITCHES OFF OF ME, YOU IDIOTS!" to a squadron of a dozen men. They all marched out, taking cover around various positions ahead of the team, in a cramped alley no less. The leading girl with the auto-shotgun dodged a bullet and took another in her vest, shrugging it off as if it was nothing, before looking back to their TL and lifting a fragmentation grenade, a Russian F1, from her belt.
The leader nodded. The grenade's pin was pulled and it started to hiss as the girl long-armed it among the ranks of still-forming White Fang. It exploded, shrapnel tearing through the bodies of the enemy soldiers. Following it, the auto-shotgun and rifles barked and coughed respectively, tearing survivors apart with precision and fury. Running past the staggering guards, the girls executed the few survivors as they passed with headshots, before watching the Fang Lieutenant take a right.
They followed, with the girl in charge radioing someone in. The WF Lieutenant looked back and flipped the bird at them, before turning around and opening up with his pistol, missing all shots in the magazine. He swore to himself, "Fucking hell, they're persistent... If I let myself get caught, Taurus's gonna fucking kill m-" And he stopped as the glass beside him shattered.
A small figure, clad in much lighter gear than your average soldier, appeared through the shattering glass, short green hair flowing with the wind as she spun in the air, delivering a perfect flying roundhouse to the face of the Lieutenant. The man fell backward, nose broken and mask destroyed, before the flanking girl dropped to her knees, turned him around and pinned him to the floor, putting the blade of her 6Kh5 Bayonet to his neck and speaking in a heavily-accented voice, "Move and I'll rip your fucking throat out, mudak."
"Fine, fucking fine! Easy does it, kid!" The man replied, then grunted in pain as the petite soldier yanked his hands down and pushed the blade a mere micron from his jugular. He whined and said, "Sorrysorrysorry you ain't a kid!" before the girl pulled the knife back and slammed his face onto the floor. She then pulled his hair and made him look at her compatriots. He trembled, then asked, "W-Whaddaya wanna know?" with a crack in his voice.
The leader arranged her skull balaclava, took a knee and demanded in that same accent as the petite trooper, "We want the location of your weapons cache and the tools you stole from that Schnee freighter..."
"Fuck..." He swore to himself, "How the hell did you-"
"We were present in the shadows," The shotgunner stated, staring down at the man, eyes and face concealed. She turned to secure the perimeter with the redhead, whose face was hidden by sunglasses and a mask. The White Fang man, a deer subtype, stared up at the leader of the team, at the empty black of the opaque combat goggles, before shuddering.
"Speak," She ordered him, lifting his chin up with the barrel of her rifle... Before long, he had, indeed, spoken. Spilled the beans completely, in fact, without a fuck to give. The next target would be Cargo Terminal five within the Port of Vale. Three weeks from now and the Fang was gonna steal the biggest amount of Dust stolen to date. Of course, the petite soldier was allowed to... Finish... The job.
Lita Tarasova, Junior Sergeant in the Russian Republican Armed Forces, wiped her blade of the blood of the White Fang trooper before sheathing it. She sighed, put on her boonie hat and looked to the other three members, speaking, "That was far easier than I thought. Fang dogs are well trained if they bark up their plans this easily... That was the first Lieutenant we caught."
"Lucky us, huh, Lita?" Quipped the redhead Chechen. Ayesha Dudiyn smirked, pulling her own mask off her face and her sunglasses, too. She pocketed the latter as they moved to get out of the place before the police arrived. Lita hummed, nodded and pulled out a cigar, which she stuck between her lips and lit, before taking a deep, long drag from it. Ayesha hummed and looked back to their shotgunner, noting the similarities to their team leader, then asked, "You okay, Vera?"
"Fine," Vera Novikova replied, changing out the magazine on her weapon to something that only had slugs. A mag with blue tape, "That was cutting it close, though. Two more minutes and we would've lost the bastard to the streets..." and she hummed, then looked toward their Team Lead, who walked in the rear. Her expression softened as she asked, "Are you okay?"
The girl nodded, not taking off her mask, before stating shyly... "It's tough, playing the bad cop..."
The three other girls all let out short giggles at their TL's little quip, before Vera patted her on the shoulder with a smile. She spoke, "Let's go, Cousin. Gotta get the Lien from the owner of the Warehouse and tell him he has to clean up. Afterward, it's back home..." And flashed all of her friends a menacing, fairly tease-filled grin, "I'm cooking this time..."
The pure horror in the eyes of the two other young women and her cousin was enough to tell her that she was, in fact, not cooking. And she had hoped that'd be the case, with her cousin offering, "I will cook... Sorry, Vera. I think it best if you're off the roster for anything related to food for now..." which she took in stride, feigning being hurt by frowning, then snickering as they walked off.
The four boarded a van belonging to their employer before rolling out. Inside, the man's mainline employees had handed them the money for the job. They were then dropped off, with the team lead walking out of the vehicle first, to the sight of the tall structure that was their home. Lita hummed, then said with a deadpan expression, "I still can't believe this is what you chose for a place to stay..."
"Hey," Vera shrugged, "Ayesha came up with the idea of hiding in plain sight."
"This is not 'plain sight'," Lita voiced, then sighed and pinched her brow.
Ayesha chuckled, "Sorry, Li. I just wanted to stay at a fancy building after so long. We were just lucky we caught that first job as mercs, though, eh?" as they walked through into the imposing reception. Tall pillars rose in the center, two rows of three facing the entrance and holding up vaulted ceilings of marble. Beautiful red carpets lay on the floor, a bar to the left, two restaurants on this floor alone and a central recreation area where the local businessmen who inhabited this place stayed, chatted and drank.
"Ah, welcome, ladies!" The dark-skinned Alligator Faunus in a suit that acted as the concierge walked up to them.
"Good evening, mister Mosby..." The team leader greeted with a friendly smile, though it was hidden by the balaclava.
"Welcome back to Nikos Towers once more. I hope today's job went off well, as usual," He offered, smiling.
"Indeed," The girl chuckled, "Is what I asked for prepared?"
"Of course," He nodded, "Please, enjoy it in your rooms. I'll just be here-" And he paused as the leader walked up to him and slid him a couple extra lien out of sight of anyone else. He smiled and nodded in thanks, before bowing to the girls as they walked past, Lita carrying the stereotypical briefcase full of money. They took the elevator up to their apartment, entering it to find that, indeed, what they asked for had been prepared.
A large table lay ahead, stacked full of food that was still hot. Ayesha grinned, crossing her arms to her chest and stating, "Didn't wanna cook today either, eh, dear Vesna?" as she and the others looked to their Team Leader. The young woman removed her helmet, balaclava and goggles, revealing a young, blonde beauty with deep blue eyes. She smiled warmly at her friends, despite the conflict behind her eyes, then scratched her sternum, causing Aye and Lita to wince. Ayesha chuckled, though, then said, "Well, good thing we fucking love this food, eh?"
"Indeed," Lita hummed, then set her gear aside and walked to the bathroom. Ayesha, meanwhile, plopped herself down onto one of the couches, took her gloves and shoes off and sighed in relief. She looked around at everyone as they, too, ditched their equipment nearby the door and walked to get themselves cleaned. Lita walked out, sleeves rolled up, then said, "Go, Ayesha."
"Or what?" She smirked.
"You aren't getting fed. Go," Lita shot back with the straightest face ever.
Vera snorted as she, too, walked out of the bathroom. She watched Ayesha scramble, well-aware Lita was serious, then said to Vesna, "You've got some friends..." and noticed the girl seemed abit out of it when she walked out of the bathroom. She hummed, narrowed her lips, then asked, "You okay, Ves? Still... Thinking about your death...?"
Vesna Novikova, Staff Sergeant, lost love of a certain Romanian, nodded, hesitant, "Not just..."
"... Vic?" Lita asked, worried. Vesna nodded and Lita sighed, then said, "I'm sorry, Ves..."
Vesna shook her head, "It isn't your fault, Lita. It's nobody's but mine... I should have been more careful. Known to expect an ambush from Putinist forces, but..." And she clenched her fist on her chest. All three girls stood to their feet and walked up to the blonde, wrapping their arms around her as her lip quivered, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. She covered her face with her hands and whispered through the tears, "I... I can't imagine what he felt..."
Ayesha patted the girl on the head, while Vera simply stated, "It's alright, Vesna... It's alright... I'm sure he's alright."
"How could he be...?" She whimpered through the tears.
"Victor is tough," Lita sighed as she battled her own demons. She still assured her friend, "He's tough..." Even though she knew very well what he had gone through. She and Ayesha were farther back when the man had found Vesna's body. Heard his rant. Saw him break down, too. She sighed deeply, then patted Vesna on the head. Ayesha, meanwhile, started humming a certain song, a hint of anger behind her voice. All the other girls joined along, humming the tune.
So did Vesna. Fury would only replace sadness for a while. But that fury was enough. Fury at a broken, abusive homeland barely reforming now.
They sang to the Death of Russia...
Elsewhere in Vale
"... So I and Blakey decided to help Ruby when all else kinda flopped. Weiss appreciated seeing us come together, clearly, even if she acted a lil' pissed," Yang explained a particularly funny event regarding homework, Ruby's desire to procrastinate studying and the way the two girls had actively helped the youngest of the team learn what she needed to learn.
Vic hummed, then spoke calmly, "Good on you two. Nice to see a sister get involved in her sibling's issues and helping her solve them. Same for her friends," while setting his MG in a more comfortable position. They were walking through a small market nearby Vale's town hall, a massive and imposing building that also seemed to house a lot of the higher government agencies.
Yang, however, didn't really care about that stuff. She blushed and handwaved the compliment, stating, "Aw, nuts, Vic, I was just doing what a big sis should honestly be doing anyway." And she looked to Blake. The black-haired beauty was grinning ear-to-ear at the reaction, causing Yang's blush to exacerbate. She blinked, then frowned at her partner, who shrugged and chose not to say anything.
"Still a hell of a lot better than my family," He replied in a murmur before stopping in front of a fruit stand. He picked up an apple, cleaned it, then handed the lady behind the stand five Lien, the exact price of the apple. She smiled, waved and watched them walk away as the boy lifted his balaclava and bit down on the apple. Both Yang and Blake looked to him, though, waiting to see if he'd continue his train of thought.
"... You, uh... You gonna say what ya meant, Vic?" Yang inquired, worried. Blake backed her up with a nod.
"Orphan. Parents left me for dead in the country's orphanage system..." He replied non-chalantly, "Fucking place was basically the Hunger Games, Battle Royale and 'Try not to get sold off to rich people', the mix-and-match game." And he noted how both of them winced, though Yang seemed to have a sympathetic look behind her shocked gaze. Blake, meanwhile, just seemed a little mortified. He shrugged, though, calm, then said, "If our medical and education systems are trash, I wouldn't expect the orphanages to be any better, honestly."
Yang winced again, "Jeez, dude... I feel you for parental abandonment, though..."
Vic raised a brow at the girl as he took a bite out of the juicy apple he had paid for. Blake did, too. Yang rubbed the back of her neck and said, "Let's just say my biological mom didn't really give that much of a damn about me and dad..." a bit awkward. Vic hummed, then patted her on the shoulder, to which she smiled. Aww, he did actually try to comfort her. Buddies in suffering!
The trio continued their walk, Blake and Yang stopping every once in a while to shop for one item or another. Food, water, milk, whatever they needed back in the Dorms, they got out of this trip. Indeed, they had forced Vic to carry some of the bags, but the guy couldn't particularly say no when he had two beautiful women beside him. To note:Dear Victor was not really into either of them... Vesna was still his one and only.
That didn't mean he couldn't be a gentleman and help the two ladies carry their shit, at least 'till they got back to Beacon. Plus, he was already carrying his LMG and could use its barrel as a sort of hanger to keep the heavier groceries up. They continued their trek forward, idly chatting as they walked past more and more stands, before Vic's radio crackled.
He hummed, looking down at it, then checked it and murmured, "I forgot I had you on... Gonna need new batteries, soon..." before stopping next to an alleyway. He heard the sounds of struggle, before turning. He handed the girls their bags and ran toward the source of the noise, while the two paused, looked to one-another, then followed, bags slung over their shoulders.
Vic had stopped dead ahead, seemingly surprised by something. The half-eaten apple lay on the floor beside him as the man readied to shoulder his LMG, all under the watchful gazes of Yang and Blake, the latter of which stopped beside him and asked, "What happened, Victor...?" then watched him tilt his head forward. She turned, then gasped as she saw a man clad in a similar uniform to him and surrounded by two White Fang members.
"That a friend of yours...?" Yang asked in a murmur. Vic shrugged, concerned, finger twitching around the trigger of his LMG. He examined the man ahead. He was clad in a standard pattern of French forest camouflage and bore a French flag on his shoulder, with the insignia of the French Foreign Legion below it. He wore an armored vest and had a FAMA Son his back, while, in his arms, lay an M249 Minimi Paratrooper variant with a wire stock and a scope on top. His face was covered by a balaclava, as well, though it was black.
One of the White Fang members shoved the man and said, "You're in our turf, buddy."
"Sorry, man. I told you, I was just leaving," The Frenchman replied nonchalantly, though Vic could detect a hint of a familiar accent in there. He tried walking away before the Fang member shoved him back again. Vic wanted to intervene for a moment, but saw a familiar glint in the Frenchie's eyes and paused for a moment. Grinning, he put his hands in front of Blake and Yang, both of whom seemed ready to intervene.
"Vic," Yang whispered, "That guy's in trouble."
"He's got an LMG, a FAMAS sniper and a MAC-50 pistol with him and he ain't using any of them. I don't think you need to worry about him..." The Romanian quipped with a grin, his heart welling. He probably knew the lunatic behind that outfit. The most non-confrontational son-of-a-bitch to ever grace the United Nations Peacekeeper Force, the Hungarian Defense Forces and, now, the fucking French Foreign Legion. Blake seemed to register the threat now, looking to Vic.
The man tried walking away, but was shoved back by the other Fang member. He sighed as the lead of the two warned, "Sorry, pal. Ya ain't getting outta this one so easily. You gotta pay a small fee if you plan on walking this part of Vale like it's nothing. Ya get me there, pal?" before he growled as he got no response. He gripped the soldier by the collar...
Snap...
Stunned, Yang and Blake watched as the soldier moved with lightning speed, apparently breaking the hand with which he had been grabbed in two slick moves. The White Fang member staggered back, grabbing at the limp limb and screaming in pain. He looked up and prepared to draw a weapon before the soldier's boot left an imprint square on his face, breaking his nose and mask and sending him flying back.
Afterward, the FFL man grabbed the other White Fang member before he could do anything, broke his arm and slammed his forehead, which was protected by the low-cut helmet he wore, square into the bastard's jaw, sending him to the floor. The two White Fang soldiers scrambled back, watching as the man drew his pistol. He walked up to them and took a knee in front of them, stating, "I told you guys, I was just leaving. Now, you can scramble and get your asses patched up at the hospital, or..." And he thumbed the safety of his pistol off with a click, "I can finish the job."
The two men scrambled, holding onto broken limb and almost-broken nose and teeth as they ran, bleeding. The soldier sighed, thumbed the safety back to on and holstered the gun, shaking his head. "I swear to God, retards these days..." He murmured to himself, then swore something in Hungarian. That. That right there was enough for Vic to realize who it was.
The Romanian smirked behind his balaclava as the FFL soldier turned toward them and greeted, "Oh, a Romanian soldier. Yo. Sorry, but-" and he paused, too, seemingly taking the sight in. Vic undid the strap of his helmet and took it off, then took his sunglasses off so he could look him in the eye. Afterward, he slung his LMG onto his back and walked up to the man.
"Y'know, it took me a hot second to recognize you under all that French bullshit. But the moment you pulled Hungolian out of your ass..." Vic smirked and took his balaclava off, revealing the tired young man now bearing a wide smile, which seemed to absolutely stun the Frenchman, "I fucking knew it was one of my best pals in the fucking world..."
"... Vic..." The man spoke, stunned. He unclipped his helmet and removed his balaclava, revealing a far more scarred face than Vic had last seen in KFOR. But there he was, that same-old Hungarian fucker that he'd befriended during KFOR. Vic extended his hand to the man, who looked own at it, still awed... Before grabbing, shaking it firmly and lifting it up, grinning, "I thought I saw the last of your sorry ass in Kosovo, you prick..."
Vic laughed, "Oh, hell no, clearly not. Just like I ain't seen the last of you back then either... Still... FFL Getup?"
He shrugged, "You know our government. Assholes, the lot of'em, sucked Russia's dick far too much. Didn't like the idea of sending Peackeepers for UNRUS. So, I ditched the HDF, joined the Foreign Legion. Went in after I completed the extra training I needed," and he noticed the two women behind Vic, both of them stunned... With one in particular staring oddly at him, a black-haired beauty with amber eyes.
"And here I thought I was speaking to you via messages while you were sat in the comfort of your pretty little Hungol barracks," The Romanian quipped, "Fuck me, man... What did they do to your face?"
"Foreign Legionnaire training ain't nothing to scoff at, dude."
"Still..." Vic snorted, "It's damn good to see ya, even with your fucked-up face."
"Least I ain't that motherfucker from Hunt Down the Freeman," He smirked back, then nodded, "Good to see ya, too. So..." He motioned to Yang and Blake, "You gonna intro me?"
"Oh, shit, right..." He paused, then clapped a hand on the man's shoulder and pointed with the other to the girls, "Paul, my friend, these are Blake and Yang. Girls from Beacon and, quite honestly, good friends, too. Least for the little amount of time I've been hanging around the place." and he smirked, then looked to Blake and Yang and stated, "Ladies, this is one of my best friends from KFOR-"
"Paul Nemeth, French Foreign Legion," He nodded and extended his hand, "Hope you've been treating my Gypsy pal here alright."
Yang snorted, then shook his hand and said, "I'd say we've managed so far. Nice to meet'cha, Paul."
"Indeed," Blake shook his hand, too, though a bit more shaky. Yang smirked at the sight alongside Vic, then watched for Paul's reaction. The man was, as usual, dense as a fucking brick, Vic figured. Then again, Paul would see that Victor wasn't any better off, considering the way the Blonde beside him was staring at him. The two men bumped fists, grinning, then both went to help the girls.
"I'm gonna need a place to stay, by the way," Paul added.
Vic nodded, grinning, "I know a place."