It was a cold day in Moscow. Hunched figures patted through the snow covered sidewalks and streets, dimly lit by exotic street lights. Ray sat in an alleyway, across from the Russian Parliament building. His mission was simple, eliminate a guard and use his ID to get into the control room, and covertly eliminate anyone who gets in his way.

Ray unzipped his jacket, checking his holster for his compact, silenced MP5K, which sported a precision reflex red dot sight on the top rail. A precision reflex sight projects a red dot onto a small, glass screen. Making it much easier and faster to aim at targets.

He made sure the safety was set, and then checked his holstered Heckler and Koch USP .45 silenced handgun. He was armed with a combat knife, and three stun grenades, along with an M18 taser pistol. His equipment was a high capacity USB drive, and a security camera disruptor. The disruptor would disable the wireless transmitting security cameras of the building and cause them to loop for up to thirty minutes, giving the illusion of whoever watches that nothing is wrong. Ray cocked the USP and re-holstered it. It was no doubt going to be tricky, but with everything he'd learned in the past week to the test.

Ray waited until one am, when the guards shift would change. He remembered the blueprints of the building well. For housing some of the most secure information in Russia, it had a surprisingly low security system. Ray checked his military grade watch, which also transmitted his GPS coordinates to his superiors in the United States government. He had a radio earpiece, but he would hear nothing until he reached the control room.

It was now one in the morning, time to commence the operation. Ray approached the building, two armed guards sat side by side next to double doors. They were sporting ski masks to shield themselves from the brittle cold, and two AK-108 assault rifles.

Ray pressed the disruptor on his belt, and a green light winked at him, indicating that all security devices in the area were on loop or temporarily disrupted. There was no one on the street in front of him, so Ray didn't hesitate. He unholstered his MP5K, and eliminated the two guards. Quickly, He dragged the bodies into the alley, and swapped his jacket for one of the guard's, along with his ID card and ski mask.

Ray looked at the large, intimidating building. It looked very old, almost medieval style. However, he had no time to admire this building. He entered the double doors, walking around as if he had a purpose. There were guards here and there, but most of them thought he was a guard, and didn't even bother to check his ID.

The building was more like a library, there were many rooms stacked with data servers from floor to ceiling. Along with a large, main room lined with computers, featuring a 20 foot wide screen on one wall, with a projector showing data and statistics. At this hour, only a few people sat in the many rows of desktop computers, clothed in uniform. Ray stayed alert, and found a back room with a computer monitor on the desk. It looked to be a superior officer's office, and the door was wide open.

Ray was about to enter, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Viktor, why are you wearing your ski mask indoors, eh?" A Russian guard nudged Ray.

"Oh, am I still wearing it?" Ray said in Russian while choking his voice to disguise it.

"Is something wrong, Viktor?" The guard looked at him strange. "Aren't you supposed to be on shift right now?"

"I have a bad cold," Ray pretended to cough. "I was just looking for some aspirin to relieve my headache, think you could help me find some?"

"In there?" The guard cocked an eyebrow. "What about the infirmary?"

"Er," Ray stuttered. "I was just there, and no one was home."

"I doubt there will be anything in here, Viktor, but sure, I'll help you look."

Ray and the guard entered the room, and flicked on the lights.

"And take off your ski mask, that's just strange to be wearing it around!" The guard laughed as he went through the desk. Ray shut the door and took his ski mask off, and unholstered his silenced USP, aiming it directly at the guard's head.

The guard looked up, a frightened expression on his face. "You're not Vi-"

Ray pulled the trigger, the suppressor reducing the blast of the pistol to a small click. Ray dove and caught the guard's lifeless body before it hit the floor, and quietly let it drop to the ground. Ray sat in the chair in front of the desk, and inserted his USB drive into the computer. The screen prompted a login, but the program on the flash drive overrode it, hacking it's way into the Russian Secure Military Network.

Ray pressed his earpiece. "It's in," Ray stated. "Good," A static voice replied almost instantly. "Search for anything labeled abort codes, copy them to the drive, and get out of there."

"Understood," Ray said as he went through the network. It took several minutes, but he finally found what he was looking for. The abort codes for all Russian nukes and EMPs, he quickly copied the files onto his flash drive and pocketed it. Ray slipped his ski mask on, and then looked at the body. He said a quick prayer in Russian for forgiveness, and then headed out the door and turned the lights off.

Satisfied, but now feeling nervous, he had to exit the building before shift change. Ray holstered his USP and opened the door to another section of the building. He walked down the hallway, and passed the large room full of computers. He went past security, explaining he had just been to the infirmary. Luckily, it seemed that the guard he was posing as, Viktor, was very well liked by his fellow soldiers.

"Normally, I would have to go tell Petrov," A guard that stopped Ray said. "But for you Viktor, I can let it go for a quick trip to the infirmary. But hurry up, shift change is soon."

"Spasibo," Ray thanked the guard politely, and went out the double doors. The entire operation took about twenty minutes, giving Ray a bit of time. Ray recovered his coat and put the ski mask back on Viktor, and then ran through the alleyway, away from the Parliamentary district and disappeared into the heart of Moscow. He caught a bus to the Airport, and bought a ticket to Warsaw, Poland under his alias of Mikhail Brukowski. He made sure to pick up a suitcase that had been left for him, full of clothes and other things that didn't belong to him, in the parking deck. It would be much more suspicious to board a plane without any bags. After all, they'd think he's a terrorist. Looking around in the parking deck, he found a stairwell, and ditched his weapons in a trash can.

After the several hour flight, he stepped off the plane at Warsaw Frédéric Chopin Airport. A man in a black overcoat was holding a sign that read "Brukowski." It was Reeves.

Ray left his suitcase up against a wall, and then walked to Reeves, who was smiling.

"You did good," Reeves said. "Now, hand it over."

Ray handed the drive over to Reeves. "Just don't forget my end of the deal."

"Oh, I haven't, if you'll come with me, you have some business with the Airforce to take care of."

"If it's not that flight to the Himalayas, I'm going to stomp on a kitten."

"Well Ray, that kitten will live to see another day."

"And those records and satellite photos?"

"Deleted," Reeves responded.

"And how do I know you did that?"

"You don't, you'll just have to take my word for it."

"I don't understand why you gave up being the discoverer of dragons, to get me to go do your dirty work," Ray shrugged.

"I may not look like it, but I have a heart," Reeves held Ray's shoulder as they walked to their next flight. "Politics can be more important than those dragons anyway, but you probably wouldn't understand."

"You're right, I wouldn't," Ray sighed.

Reeves cellphone vibrated, and he took it out of his coat pocket and held it up to his ear.

"Yes?" He said as he walked with Ray.

"He is, would you care to speak with him? Of course, sir." Reeves handed the phone to Ray. Ray looked at it, and then at Reeves, wondering what was going on.

"Hello?" Ray tried to say in a neutral accent, with no Russian or southern.

"Mr. Sokolov, it's good to hear your voice."

Ray paused. "Who am I speaking with?"

"Barack Obama," he laughed.

Ray's eyes widened. "Mr. President?

"Yes, I thought I should at least thank you personally for what you've done."

"You mean, betray my country, and murder again to keep myself free? In that case, you're quite welcome, Mr. President," Ray replied bitterly.

"Politics can be a dirty thing, I don't think it's something you should get involved with when you get older," The president responded.

"What is wrong with the world today?" Ray sighed.

"Listen Ray, you did a good thing. The amount of lives you've saved will mean nothing compared to the men you've put down."

"Yeah, maybe the American lives. What about my people? When are you going to Moscow, then?" Ray growled.

"In due time, if they decide to launch their nukes. We know they're planning something, Russia and China, but we don't know what. All we know is, it's happening soon. I couldn't get Mr. Reeves to tell me where you're going, but if you ever come back, you have the United States government backing you up. Meaning, I've made you a very rich man. We've set up a bank account for you, you'll receive the information later. There is ten million U.S. dollars on the account, to do with however you please."

"Donate it to charity," Ray responded immediately.

The president paused. "Of course. Now I'd best be going, good luck to you Ray."

"Good bye, Mr. President," Ray hung up the phone.

Reeves looked astonished, seeing as Ray had just told off the President of the United States and gave up a fortune.

"You really like to push it, don't you?" Reeves pocketed his cellphone.

"I try," Ray said.

Reeves accompanied Ray on the next flight, which transferred him to Kazakhstan, and then finally to Pakistan, at an American base. He met up with an American pilot at the airfield, who was holding a parachute in his hands.

"Are you Reeves' boy?" The pilot asked.

"Yep," Ray said as he hauled his gear down the runway.

"Wait, you're Ray Sokolov!" The pilot gasped. "No wonder I was ordered to keep quiet about doing this."

"What, am I a global celebrity now?" Ray replied.

"No, just a missing person that everyone in the world knows about by now."

He was given a military pack, along with an M4 carbine and an M9 double action handgun. His backpack was filled with military grade survival gear, seeds, and enough food to last him until his crops would finish growing. They had given him a digital camouflage coat and pants, with light brown boots. Completely decked out in military gear, and satisfied that he had protected the location of the Rim of Heaven, he was ready to return there for good.

"One more bag for you," The pilot tossed Ray a parachute, which clipped onto his military pack.

"Thanks," Ray replied, and stepped into the small, single engine aircraft. As it started up, the pilot tried to make conversation with Ray.

"If you don't mind me asking, why am I being ordered to drop you in the middle of nowhere and be jailed if I even speak of doing this?"

"I'm afraid that information is classified," Ray said in his best American military accent.

"Fine, don't tell me," The pilot shrugged.

After nine hours, they were flying over the Himalayas. And finally, the pilot turned to Ray.

"This is your stop!" The pilot said through the Radio headset. Ray had never parachuted before, but he was told it was as simple as jumping out of a plane and pulling a cord, which didn't really help him much. The pilot handed Ray a full face helmet, which reminded Ray of his motorcycle helmet. It had a visor that could lift up, and it was solid black. Ray strapped it on, removing his radio headset.

The pilot put an altimeter on Ray's wrist, which looked more like a watch than anything else. It had a digital display, and would tell him how far it was to the ground below via infrared signals and reading the pressure of the air around him.

"When it reads two thousand feet, pull the cord!" The pilot yelled over the noise of the propellor. Ray looked out the window. Nine mountains, surrounding a crescent shaped lake with woodland and fields stretching for miles was just north of him. It was daytime, and as such, there were no dragons streaking across the sky. He recognized the Rim of Heaven immediately, but instructed the pilot to let him parachute several miles away, so he wouldn't spook the dragons. There was a field, surrounded by some white capped mountain peaks, which looked to be Ray's landing zone. If he did survive the landing, it was going to be at least a day's hike, unless the wind permits or a passing dragon sees him.

Ray slid open the door and looked down, suddenly regaining his vertigo. But after all this, he couldn't just not jump out of fear. Ray took a deep breath, drew an imaginary cross on his chest with his finger, and bailed out of the plane.