Chapter 2-Recoil
"What do you feel when you…"Arthur was excited, and it was straining Gregory's nerves. It had been two days since Gregory had arrived and he already began to loathe Wolf Base.
Gregory shot a look back at the young blonde, "What?"
Arthur lifted up his rifle, "You know, kill those Soviet Bastards. What do you…"
"Hush," Gregory hissed, lifting up his left hand.
Arthur looked around nervously; waving his assault rifle around, "What is it?" came a loud whisper.
A grin crossed the Upir's face, "Nothing, I just want a moment of peace," shifting his rifle to his left arm and he looked forward. Of all the men to be stuck on patrol with, I had to get the hero-worshipping loud mouth. He shook his head slowly.
"Hmmph…" Arthur was formulating a complaint when he was interrupted by a breaking branch.
Both spines stiffened. Gregory's hand gripped Arthur's arm and drug it, along with the rest of his body, into the brush. The scope's covers were quickly popped off and it began to scan the area. Movement one hundred meters south caught the scope's attention, "We have bogies, three of them," came the harsh whisper of the Upir.
Arthur was now right behind him, rifle at the ready, "Alright, we fire on three then?"
Lowering the Remington, he used a free hand to force the M-14 down. Gregory's voice came sharp and hard, "Bogey mean's unknown. We do not know whether they're friendly or not," letting go of the Arthur's weapon, he raised his rifle again. He could see three men, one with a bullet wound to the arm. They were a rag tag bunch and didn't seem to pose them any threat, "Let's move."
Gregory slung the rifle on his back and unstrapped the MAC-10 from his shoulder and rushed to the fighters, "Hold your fire, I'm Upir from Wolf Base," His weapon was high in the air, but could be brought down at a moment's notice.
The darkest man, a Native American, stood up first. An AK-103 was in his right hand, a tomahawk shoved in his belt, "So you are the mystic force the enemy fears. I am Cody Cochise, leader of Apache Group," He pointed to the man tending to the injured man's wound, "This is Daniel Yates, Apache medic."
"And I'm Edward White," The wounded man offered his good hand and Gregory shook it, "And I'm the leader of," A grin laced with the pain he felt from the wound appeared, "The Vampires," the hand quickly found the grip of the military shotgun.
"Nice name," Gregory put the MAC away and took the rifle in his hands once more, "I'm guessing you boys hit a bit of trouble?" He commenced scanning the area they had just come from.
Daniel spoke up, finishing the dressings on Edward's wound, "Yeah, we were counter attacked after groups Washington, Vampire, and Apache completed a raid on the Soviet oil reserves. It was a mess, there were sixty of us who were part of the raid. We were separated when the tanks and helicopters came in."
"Why wasn't Wolf informed about the attack?" Arthur fumed, his rifle a little shaky.
Before anyone could think of a nice reason, Gregory hissed back, "because we're to few and you guys are untested in battle. It's like throwing someone who is still learning play chess against a grandmaster," He knew Arthur was extremely offended by this, but at the moment he really didn't care. His eyes shifted back to Cody, "Come with us to Wolf base, you can hold up there and try to regroup your fighters."
All three agreed, and not a moment too soon as a bullet smacked the tree behind Upir. The Remington was shouldered, "Alright, Arthur, take Edward and Daniel up the Cabin. Cody, hang with me and let's bloody their noses," the Remington barked, "Oh, by the Arthur," the blonde turned, "Try not to get killed."
Arthur and his two charges ran off into the thick of the woods towards Wolf Base. Upir and Cody lay prone behind a fallen tree, using it as cover, and began to return fire.
The muzzle of the Remington shifted and fired very quickly, each bullet firing true into the skull or chest of a soviet soldier. Gregory was feeding more rounds to the hungry rifle under the cover of the log when he heard the sound of a cannon go off, the same sound following right after it. Cody ducked down beside him, "Our problems got worse my friend."
"Let me guess, it has treads and a thirty millimeter auto cannon," The bolt on the rifle slid forward and home. A nod from Cody was all the answer Upir needed, "Alright then," he removed a grenade from the Apache's belt, "I need you to cover me."
"Wait, what?" but Gregory was already gone, climbing a large tree. Not knowing what else to do, Cody laid down a suppressive fire from his quickly depleting ammo store. He quietly cursed Upir for being reckless. The chatter of the autocannon caused him to duck again as it sent dirt and woodchips in the air.
Gregory could now see the playing field unharassed. He could see approximately fifteen soldiers and a BMP-2 armored personnel carrier. This would have been too easy in Los Angeles or San Diego, but in this area it would be difficult. Peering down the scope he could see an officer barking orders from the turret. Well, that's one plus. In fights a tank crew should button up. Arrogant bastards, he set the rifle on a branch and jumped to the next tree. A crack made his eyes snap open and his spine stiffen. He expected his little branch to be assaulted by bullets and a quick look down told him they didn't even notice.
Their ignorance emboldened him as he climbed to the next branch and positioned himself to drop down on the vehicle. He hung from the branch, amazed that he still hadn't been spotted, and waited until he was right behind the turret. He hit the deck quietly, crouching as did so. The MAC-10 was quickly brought to bear. Walking with incredible stability on the BMP, he got behind the Officer and delivered a blow behind the neck knocking him out.
The officer was light, which made him easy to remove from the turret. Upir tossed the body in front of the BMP and was rewarded with a bump in the ride. The sudden motion caused the gunner to turn to where Gregory was standing. A boot fell on the young man's face and he tumbled into the main compartment of the armored vehicle.
Gregory hopped into the vacant gunner's position. The power of the gun flowed through him when he turned it on the nearest group of Soviets and squeezed the trigger, mowing down the troops easily. As the barrel shifted to a new group targets the BMP stopped and now troops were ducking for cover, but three of them were too slow to escape the carnage.
A clank of boots on metal told him the driver was coming, "Comrade!," the Driver yelled, "Comrade Ryzkhov! Why are you…" the Driver shut up as soon as he saw the sub machine gun in his face. He gasped when he saw that the man was wearing a white cloak and saw the face, which now flashed a smile. The Driver's hands went up to protect his throat, "…Upir!"
A low roar of laughter emanated from Gregory's throat, "You lose Comrade. You should not have been hunting so recklessly. Now it's my turn," He squeezed the trigger, letting the bullets fly and riddle the driver's body. Everything seemed to slow down as Gregory watched the body in front of him jerk from the impact of the bullets, blood drops ejecting from the man's chest splashing all over the interior of the tank and Gregory.
With blood on his face, Gregory looked out of the turret and saw the remaining nine troops rush the BMP. He slipped the grenade off his belt and tossed the pin away. Standing up and spray suppressive fire from the BMP's top mounted machine gun, he dropped the grenade inside the BMP.
At this point Cody was now looking over the log and could see the man that struck fear in the hearts of the enemy rise out of the turret. Barely registering the crunch of leaves behind him he watched as the man stood on the turret and leapt into the air two seconds before the armored vehicle chasing him exploded violently. He continued to watch the man flying through the air, the Upir's white, blood speckled, cloak fluttering through the air. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. The Soviets just watched the demon fly through the air until the armored vehicle exploded, several of the Soviets collapsing.
Hitting the ground with a roll, he stood up with both his M1911 and MAC-10 blazing. The explosion took out four out of the nine and his initial volley took out two more. Dodging gunfire he took a Soldier as a human shield. Good Soviet training meant that his shield didn't live for long as he was riddled with his own country's bullet. The distraction allowed him to kill another Soviet.
The last one standing, a big sergeant, tossed his obviously empty rifle to the side. He spread his arms wide and in accented English he yelled, "Face me like man Upir. You are nothing but coward with rifle. I want to see if you have balls to face me," he let out a laugh.
It would have been easy just to shoot him, get him over with. No one would blame him of course, but the Russian's sheer arrogance got to him. The dead soldier crumpled to the ground when Gregory released him, Gregory's guns also fell. With a little flourish he removed his cloak and tossed it onto a low hanging branch. In ten deliberate steps, he moved within one meter of the Sergeant. He dropped down into a fighting position and taunted the Sergeant a little.
The Sergeant drew back for a powerful punch which Gregory easily dodged and in turn delivered a kick to the Sergeant's side which caused a grunt from the bigger man. Another fist came flying at Upir's face, that one he swept aside with his fore arm and then delivered a punishing blow to the Sergeant's face.
Blood was dripping from the Sergeant's broken nose. A scowl had replaced the look of superiority. His veins were showing, his face red. Yelling, he threw all his weight into one seismic punch. It missed Gregory as he rolled to the side and kicked the Sergeant behind the knees, collapsing him.
The Sergeant saw he was losing, and badly. His hand went for his pistol and drew it. He laughed as he shook it, "You're mine now."
A swift kick sent the pistol flying, "I think it's quite the opposite comrade," came the perfect Russian from Upir. The Sergeant looked up in horror at the spotted American, "I've won," It was the smile that scared the Sergeant the most, it was a mix of joy and cruelty.
"PLEASE DON'T DRINK MY BLOOD!!" The Sergeant was terrified. He wasn't sure if the legends of the vampires stalking in Washington were true, but he knew if they were, this man was a vampire.
Gregory laughed long and loud, "No, no comrade, I wouldn't do that," he kneeled next to the man, knife in hand, "I want you to live, to tell your officers what happened today," he made two small cuts on the man's neck, "I want you to tell them what Upir did. I want you to tell them of the fear you felt, the death you saw, the cruelty you experienced. I want them to know that they will pay for every step they take with more and more blood until they are bled out." He stood up and pointed towards Forks, "Get moving, my desire to kill you is almost unbearable." The Sergeant ran away as fast as he could, looking back at the Upir occasionally.
Gregory had picked up his blood stained cloak and weapons when he walked back to where he had left Cody and was only a little shocked to the whole of Wolf Group there, all four of them. They all seemed a bit awed and disturbed. Shaking his head, Gregory walked to Cody who was holding his rifle, "I thought I should get it for you my friend. One less thing for you to do."
Gregory gave him an approving smile, "Thanks Cody."
Cody wasn't quite finished. He took out his tomahawk, "I would like you to have this as a gift from me for saving not only my life, but countless others. And you have the right to refer to me by Apache, Upir."
The Tomahawk looked well taken care of and well used. It was nice and balanced, "Thanks Apache. Aren't you coming with us?"
Cody shook his head, "No, I must go to my camp and see who made it back. If you need to reach me they have my frequency," He extended his hand, "I hope to work with you again Upir."
Gregory took the hand firmly, "Likewise Apache. Good luck."
Gregory turned back to the rag-tag team of fighters and saw Beth pointing at his leg, "You are injured."
Looking down he saw a piece of metal sticking out of his leg, "So I am," he pulled it out as cleanly as possible, very little pain showed on his face compared to how much he felt. Tossing it aside he saw then that Arthur had a video camera, "Turn that thing off," he used his hand to cover the lens.
Victoria was next, "What the hell was that reckless mess? You could have gotten killed," her voice was hard and commanding.
Gregory faced her nonchalantly, "It's my job, getting killed is a hazard," He put on his cloak and placed the rifle in the crook of his arm. He took two steps and turned his head slightly, "Arthur, you asked me what I felt when I killed a Soviet. I feel recoil Arthur…"