Chapter 2
Beneath Fear
Army Headquarters in Omsk, Russia.
7:00 p.m.
"A general and two coronels. Very interesting," Major Kuznetsov said as he left the newspaper on his desk. "Murdering three men by firing just one bullet has given you a certain reputation in the army. Even the nation talks about you. Congratulations, Commander."
He then fixed his eyes on Dragunov, grateful. The major knew there wasn't any other answer than silence.
"Besides, the Japanese army has called you the White Angel of Death. Honour is in your blood. I knew your father. He wasn't a merciful man in the battlefield, since he was convinced that there aren't winners or losers in war but survivors," the major continued, pouring some vodka into two glasses and offering Dragunov one of them. "For our motherland. Na zdorovje!"
Dragunov clinked his glass with Kuznetsov's. Despite looking unconcerned regarding his presumed recognition, every sip meant he had won the superior's trust and it meant another step to satisfying his thirst for revenge as well.
"I haven't just ordered you to come for a toast. Presumably, you have already assumed you are here for other reason, and you're not wrong," Kuznetsov assured Dragunov as he sank into the leather easy chair. "Clearly, our victory is trouble for the enemy, given that the Japanese army has put a bounty on your head."
The last sentence hit the bull's eye. Dragunov had his target exactly where he wanted.
"However, we need you alive," the major added, ironic. "And we want the same thing: the head of the heir of the Mishima Zaibatsu."
His father's murderer was a man close to Kazuya Mishima. If Dragunov's head had a bounty, certainly the Japanese army, including General Matsuo, would ambush him before approaching the leader of the Mishima Zaibatsu.
"You're currently our best sniper. So, we will take the risk of sending you."
Dragunov rose, still sullen. As he left the empty glass on Kuznetsov's desk, the major saw him off, bringing his right hand with the fingers pressed together to his peaked cap.
"Bring him dead," he finally ordered.
Dragunov stopped on his way to the door and turned his head around as he heard the major's words. He then just adjusted his cap before leaving the office.
3:00 a.m.
Dragunov felt dazed when he opened his eyes. He had dreamt of his father's fate for the first time ever since joining the army, and Matsuo had been in the dream, stirring him for a vendetta, swearing at his father's weakness on his corpse. He then had looked at the crimson wound on his father's left cheek. Dragunov had learnt that Matsuo marked his pray before the last breath.
He sighted faintly as the dangerous silence surrounding the HQ brought him to reality.
Through the window, the steps on the snow gave away that someone prowling around, but Dragunov didn't take his assault rifle, just glanced at it.
A hail of bullets broke out, catching the Russian military officers unaware, as four Japanese soldiers wearing gas masks broke down the door. Since the Russian military sparred in the Commando Sambo fighting style in the HQ, Dragunov wasn't harmless like they thought. He was also skilled in single-handed fights, just like the incident in Vladivostok, where he had taken the lives of three men with only one bullet.
The last Japanese soldier alive tossed his shrapnel as he looked at the other two men, lying on the floor, and their blood-covered faces, giving a hint of fear. He had heard the crack of their bones with each hit.
Dragunov watched his fist clench gradually and then he fixed his stone-cold eyes on the soldier. Silence made the soldier tremble and eroded his faith of remaining alive.
"You truly are the White Angel of Death," the soldier whispered, feeling the cold from Dragunov's naturally colourless appearance approach him.
If they failed their mission, there was nothing better than revenge.