"What's this all about!" Hulk demanded as he was handcuffed, "I didn't murder anyone!"
"Don't bother trying to deny it, Mr. Hogan," the commander warned him roughly, "You shot the janitor Pyotr Popov at Comrade Ivan Koloff's gymnasium, intending to shoot Comrade Nikolai Volkoff to keep him from winning your title."
"That's absurd!" the champion protested, "I don't even have a gun; go check for yourself in my suitcases...!"
"You broke into the gun shop near the gymnasium and stole one," the commander barked, "We found the gun in the dumpster behind the gymnasium; your fingerprints are all over it. And multiple witnesses have you threatening to kill Comrade Volkoff inside the bar around the corner..."
"After Volkoff threatened to kill me first! Look, buster, like I was just telling my friends, I've been unconscious for the last hour or so; I chased after Volkoff out of the bar, yeah, but someone knocked me out in the alley; I just woke up now, and...!"
"Shut up, American dog!" one of the nearest KGB men slugged him hard in the chest, "You couldn't stand the fact that Comrade Volkoff is better than you and would beat you easily, so you tried to kill him, and killed the janitor instead; we have ironclad proof! You are coming with us to face justice now!"
"Oh no I'm not; you're making this whole story up!" Hulk kicked at him and tried to break away, but another KGB agent tripped him to the floor and kicked him in the back. "On your feet, mongrel!" the commander hauled him roughly to his feet. "Arrest him too, for aiding and abetting a fugitive," he pointed coldly at Viktor.
"No, you can't!" Vera frantically threw herself in front of her husband, "He has done no wrong; we don't know these people...!"
"Out of the way, woman!" the commander roughly shoved her aside and slammed Viktor down to the table, cuffing him. "You have sold out the Soviet Union by associating with and harboring the likes of him," he pointed contemptuously at Hulk, "and it appears you have been trying to corrupt the future of the Soviet Union by introducing them to demonic ideals, too," his glare fell on Kostya, still with Bret's Hitman shades around his neck. He barked an order in Russian to one of his men, who cruelly snatched the shades off the boy despite his terrified cry and ripped the shades up. "Hey, leave him alone!" Bret snapped at the man, storming over to him, "He hasn't done anything to...!"
Yelling angrily in Russian, the KGB agent belted him hard in the chest and slammed him into the wall. "Search the rest of the building," the commander ordered his men, "If you find even one piece of evidence or Western propaganda, arrest and cart away everyone, even if they're underage. And get these dogs out of here to prison where they belong!" he pointed contemptuously at his prisoners.
"Let's go, dogs!" barked another officer, dragging both men towards the door as the rest of the KGB men started literally tearing the apartment apart, throwing furniture everywhere and smashing at the walls, and ignoring Marina's terrified cries. "No, please, don't take him!" Vera begged tearfully, grabbing onto her husband's shirt as he was dragged away, "Take me instead...!"
"Shut up and pull yourself together, woman!" the commander coldly shoved her away, "If I were you, I'd find a better, more truly Soviet man from now on, because he's not worthy of your love. Walk, you swine!" he kicked at Viktor when the apartment manager strained for his wife's outstretched hand. "Stay strong, Vera, stay strong!" he cried to her in closing.
"Call the U.S. Embassy; tell them they're holding me; don't let them get away with this!" Hulk cried to his teammates, "I didn't kill anyone, I swear!"
"Shut up!" the officer holding him kicked him hard as he was yanked out the door towards the cars. Fury rippling across her face, Vera whirled on the rest of the wrestlers, who'd watched everything unfold in stunned silence. "You brought this on us!" she accused them furiously through her tears, "Get out, all of you!"
"We didn't mean for this to happen," Davey stammered apologetically, "We know our friend didn't...!"
"I SAID GET OUT, NOW!" she shrieked at the top of her lungs, grabbing one of the Bulldog's suitcases and hurling it out the window with a loud shattering of glass, then collapsing the floor, sobbing hard. "All right, if that's what you want, we'll go, Mrs. Polivinov," Bret murmurred softly, "But we'll do whatever we can to get your husband out of jail, because we know he did no wrong here."
"Typical Americans, always refusing to face facts and obstructing justice," snarled one of the KGB men nearby, smashing the Polivinov's radio with a sledgehammer, "Get out like the woman said, or we'll drag you in for aiding and abetting..."
"He's Canadian, and I'm British, thank you very much, and we are going like the woman said," Davey growled at the man. He gently took Mathilda back from a sobbing, terrified Marina. "Take care of your mom; she could use you now," he told the girl gently, "We'll be leaving now, but we'll try and get your dad back for you."
He gently nudged her towards her sobbing mother, already being comforted by Kostya, and followed everyone down the stairs to the front door in a slow, almost funereal procession. "How do we get Viktor out of this and prove Hulk innocent?" he asked them all out loud, worried.
"Well, first things first, Mr. Smith; we go see what the rest of the cops know," the Boss Man said with grim determination, "Let's go see what headquarters knows..."
"...so it's official then?" DiBiase asked into the phone at the fancy restaurant he and the rest of the attendent Million Dollar Corporation were now dining at. He let out a loud laugh. "I can't thank you enough for this, General Yermakov," he commended the KGB commander, "As a token of my good will for this, I'll make sure the sum of fifty million American dollars is wired to you at the nearest convenience, to be converted into however many rubles that is. No, thank you; you've done the world of wrestling a huge benefit getting rid of Hogan like this. The Million Dollar Man always treats those who do him favors like this well, as you'll soon see. Good luck, and don't be afraid to torture the hell out of him if you feel like it. Bye."
He laughed deviously again as he hung up. "All yours, Freddie," he told Blassie, handing the manager the receiver, "Vincenelli's going to jump over the moon when he finds how we've destroyed Hogan for him."
Blassie laughed coldly along with the Million Dollar Man this time. He dialed the familiar number as DiBiase walked away, and in no more than ten seconds, the familiar voice of their underworld benefactor, Don Kennedesco Vincenelli rang up with a loud and irritated, "Who is it; I'm in the middle of dividing the payouts from the...!"
"It's Blassie, Don Vincenelli, and I've got the mother of Christmas presents for you," Blassie told him with a tremendous grin, "As of this moment, the 'Immortal' Hulk Hogan is just another prisoner in the big, bad Soviet penal system, never to see the light of day again."
He laughed hard once more and laid out the entire sequence of events to his benefactor. Don Vincenelli laughed himself once Blassie had finished. "Well, Blassie, I'm as patriotic an American as the next guy, and ordinarily I can tell the Commies to go to hell, but you hit the jackpot with this one," he commended the Classy One, "Given how thoroughly they put their dissidents through the wringer over there, Hogan's as good as finished."
"You bet," Blassie grinned sinisterly, "Since there's no way he's going to be at the stadium for the match, Nikolai'll get the title by default, and over here, there's no way Tunney can interfere to stop it. All we have to do now is just make sure our contacts with the KGB manage to get the belt off him so Nikolai can be presented with it in front of his hometown fans. And by the time this leaks out, and the State Department tries to work on his release, they'll probably have killed him off already. And there's not a damn thing any of his pencil-neck geek friends," he laughed coldly again, "can do to help him this time..."
"Listen to me, I'm a former law enforcement officer; I demand a look at the evidence!" the Boss Man was shouting at the desk sergeant at the primary Moscow police station.
"There is no need; the case against Mr. Hogan is considered closed," the sergeant related grimly.
"Look, I don't care how you usually do things here; in the rest of the world, you're innocent until proven guilty, and a case can't be closed until the defendant is fairly convicted!" the former prison guard pressed, "And how do we know the KGB didn't just cook this whole thing up to ensure Volkoff the title in the first place?"
"That is impossible; the KGB is a fair, law-abiding institution that protects and upholds the freedoms of the Soviet state and is loved by every Soviet citizen for keeping them safe from terrorists and wreckers such as you Americans," the sergeant rambled off matter-of-factually.
"You actually believe that rubbish?" an incensed Piper pushed his way past the Boss Man, "Listen pal, we're getting real tired of you giving us the standard party line runaround here!" he shouted directly in the sergeant's face, "I tell you, Hogan's no murderer; Volkoff started the whole situation in the bar; he tried to deliberately incite Hulk, and Hulk..."
"You are lying through your teeth," the sergeant growled, visibly losing his cool now, "Comrade Volkoff is a caring, moral, upstanding Hero of the Soviet Union who would never stoop to the level the felon Hogan would. Hogan was the one who started the fight, because he knew he couldn't beat Comrade Vokoff in a fair fight tomorrow night, and when that failed to scare him into dropping out of the contest, he decided to kill him off to..."
"Do you even WATCH Volkoff's matches?" Piper screamed at the top of his lungs, "Listen good!" he roared straight into the sergeant's face, "I was there, I swear under God in Heaven Volkoff deliberately incited Hulk, and I'm willing to wager that you people killed this Popov guy to frame him! Now either we get fair access to the evidence and Hulk gets a fair chance to defend himself, or you'll find yourself facing the hottest international heat ever...!"
"Roddy, let me," Bret gently pushed by him. "Listen, at least let Hulk go until he can have a fair trial by international standards," he pressed the sergeant.
"Not a chance; Hogan is too much a threat to the public to be allowed roaming free," the sergeant glared into his face, "And why should you care so much, Mr. Hart, when you've said you're not an American..."
"No, I'm not, but my mother is, and she believes in universal fairness as much as I do, and as much as most Americans do," the Hitman stressed, "Now you've got to realize you can't hold him forever, especially since all your evidence appears to be circumstantial, and..."
"There is nothing more to say," the sergeant interrupted coldly, "The evidence overwhelming suggests Hogan murdered Comrade Popov. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm a very busy man, and if you don't leave, you'll be arrested too for disturbing the peace."
"Oh no you don't, you don't walk away on us!" Piper bellowed as the sergeant slammed down the grating in front of his window and walked away, "We're taking this all the way to the U.N. if we have to, and you and your whole corrupt organization'll be hit with the biggest and most brutal sanctions you can imagine for...!"
"Let it go, Piper, they obviously won't help us," the Boss Man glared at the closed grating. He walked towards the door, where the rest of the team was waiting anxiously. "No dice?" Savage had already picked up the general gist of the conversation from afar.
"You know it," the former prison guard growled in frustration, "We're going to have to do it ourselves."
"Now how do we...oh, sorry," Steamboat apologized as he accidentally opened the door on a pair of people standing outside the police station. Then he saw it was Duggan and Slaughter, both looking grim. "We heard Hulk's in trouble," the former said with a scowl, "Anything you need us to help you with, Sarge and I are with you."
"So, this is now worth fighting for, huh Sarge?" Savage winked at Slaughter.
"Where freedom is threatened unjustly," Slaughter said grandly, lowering his sunglasses to reveal a new spark in his eyes, "The proud men and women of the United States Marines will always fight to free the oppressed."
"That's what I like to hear, buddy," Duggan proudly slapped his partner on the back, "Let's give these no-good Commies a taste of their own medicine: HOOOOOOOO!"
He raised his two by four high. "Now Jim, let's not get ahead of ourselves," Steamboat tried to rationalize with the patriot, "Before we can go around beating the Soviet security forces bloody, we need to get ironclad proof that Hulk's innocent so they can't simply rev up the propaganda machine to crucify him."
"And the best way to do that," the Boss Man theorized with determination on his face, "Is go to the scene of the crime and try and figure out if he could have killed the victim like he said."
"OK then, faaaaaaaaalll in, troops!" Slaughter barked out his command at the Rock 'n Wrestling Connection, "Operation Liberty Express begins...NOW!"
"Wait, wait, hold a minute," Elizabeth held up her hands, "We don't even know the specifics of the case..."
"We do now," with a wide grin, the Boss Man held up several official documents, "I swiped them when Roddy was yelling and screaming at the desk sergeant."
"Good thinking, my man," Piper commended him, "Now we can fight fire with fire..."
"OK," the Boss Man consulted the official report outside the Koloffs' gymnasium, "It says here Hulk kicked the door in after he broke into the gun shop, hid around the corner from the main training room, and waited for Volkoff to show up, only it was the janitor who came in first, and he got gunned down instead. Well, let's see how that stacks up."
"What did they say he stole, an Uzi?" Steamboat leaned forward to check the report.
"Yep, so let's see if anything inside corrolates to that. But first," the Boss Man squatted by the closed but still off its hinges back door of the gymnasium. "Hmm," he mused, "This might be worth something."
"What is?" Andre bent down to his level and squinted at the door.
"Take a look here, big guy," the former prison guard pointed to the locked, "The door was kicked in, but it was unlocked-it's still unlocked. Now if that was the case, why kick it in at all?"
"Very good point," Bret nodded from behind them. "Ricky, take some pictures of that; this should count as proof," he instructed the Dragon, who snapped off a few shots of the lock. "That doesn't prove anything concrete, though," the Hitman conceded.
"Well, the best way to make sure is to go inside and check it out," Slaughter pushed the door open and strode confidently inside.
"Got to be careful though, Sarge," Davey advised him, nonetheless following him in with everyone else, "We don't want to contaminate any evidence that could be lying around in here. And if this construes breaking and entering..."
"Hey, Smith, the Commies showed no respect for the law when they dragged Hulk off in the first place," Duggan theorized, "Any laws we break would pale compared to them. And knowing how stupid they are, they probably left the evidence right here in the open for us to..."
"Stupid, am I?" barked a sharp voice in the darkness in front of the group. The light blazed on, revealing a scowling Nikita Koloff in the entrance to the main training room, leveling a shotgun at them all...