The lookout smokes his cigarette and hops up and down a little in an attempt to keep warm. He is wearing a thick black coat, but it offers him little protection against the cold Russian night air as he stands guard on the second floor balcony of his boss's farmhouse. The field is untended, and the stables are empty. This farm hasn't been a real farm in a long time.

Instead, the young crime boss, Smirnoff, uses this place to torture people for information. But tonight, Smirnoff in not interested in intel. Tonight is all about revenge.

The lookout notices movement in the trees of the forest nearby. He squints and raises his rifle. Then, his head near noiselessly explodes, and his body crumples to the floor.

Khan, a woman with olive skin, brown eyes, straight dark hair of medium length, and an athletic figure, smirks proudly from behind a sniper rifle with night vision scope, suppressor, and bipod. She is lying flat on her stomach on the roof of a light utility vehicle parked on an empty dirt road.

She uses her radio earpiece to contact her team, "Okay, you're good to go. I think he might have spotted you."

"It's Gaspar's fault," Rake, a tall and muscular Caucasian man with a beard, blond buzz cut, and blue eyes, grumbles. "He keeps playing with his balls."

"I was not playing with my balls," Gaspar, a burly American with a beer belly, a thick mustache, and a receding hairline, quickly and defensively interjects. "It's this new underwear my wife got me. They make me look sexy, but they're crazy uncomfortable."

"Then keep them in the bedroom. Why are you wearing them during a mission?"

"Guys!" Khan interrupts. "Move now before the dead lookout is discovered."

"Copy."

The two men exit the forest and move quickly but cautiously while crouching. They are wearing tactical vests over combat uniforms and carrying pistols with silencers in their hands and assault rifles strapped to their backs. Their boots make soft rustling noises on the grass.

Gaspar mischievously whispers to Rake, "Hey, Khan's pretty cute."

The other man doesn't reply.

Gaspar continues, "And I think she's into you, too. You should totally tap that, you know what I'm saying?"

Rake still doesn't reply.

Gaspar asks, "Hey, how come you're not saying anything?" Then, he realizes his mistake and mutters, "Aw, shit. Radio's still on, isn't it?"

Khan impatiently says, "Thank you for the compliment, Gaspar. Now, can we please focus on the mission?"

"Yes, ma'am."

There are two thugs armed with submachine guns stationed at the entrance to the farmhouse, but they are unable to react in time when the mercenaries reveal themselves. Rake shoots one in the head. Gaspar kills the other with a double tap to the chest. The dead men fall quietly on the grass. Their killers cautiously enter the farmhouse.

X

Winkler, a 70 year old gray-haired war veteran and retired drill sergeant, hangs by his wrists with his head bent low and only the tips of his toes scraping the cement floor of the farmhouse's dimly lit basement. He is shirtless, and his torso is covered in wounds. They are not deep wounds as his torturer wants to keep him alive to prolong his agony.

Standing before him is Smirnoff, the short, skinny, and bespectacled kingpin of one of Russia's most notorious criminal organizations. In his right hand is a sharp, bloody pair of pliers. He turns away from the old man and carelessly drops the small pincers into a surgeon tray along with other tools of torture.

He picks up a bottle of vodka next to the tray on a small table and takes a sip. As he drinks, he wonders why this is not as satisfying as he imagined it would be. But he quickly reminds himself that he is not torturing this man for entertainment. He is doing it to avenge his mother. He sets the bottle back down and is in the midst of choosing which tool to use next when he hears a heavy thud from outside.

Smirnoff turns his head to the door and calls out to his bodyguard, "What's going on out there?"

Nobody answers. The crime boss picks up a scalpel and warily approaches the door. He reaches forward with his free hand and slowly turns the knob.

Rake suddenly kicks the door in. It hits the young kingpin in the face, bloodying his nose. Smirnoff staggers back, and while he is dazed, the tall mercenary hits him in the side of the head with the pistol. The crime boss drops the scalpel and falls on his side. Rake kicks the blade away. It skitters across the floor and disappears into a shadowed corner of the room.

Winkler groggily raises his head.

He squints at the bearded merc and weakly asks, "Rake?"

While untying his old mentor, Rake gently tells him, "Hey, Sarge. Don't worry about a thing. We're taking you home."

However, the older man shakes his head and says, "No, no, no! You fucking idiot! Don't you remember anything I taught you?"

"Yeah, you said 'No man left behind' is bullshit. And that if you ever got caught, we shouldn't come for you."

"I meant it! I'm an old man. I'm not afraid of death anymore, but I won't be able to live with one of my former trainees dying in my place!"

"Really? This is how you wanna die? In a cold basement with some guy cutting off little pieces of you one at a time?"

"Well, it's slower and a lot more painful than I would've liked. But maybe I deserve it. I've done some bad things."

"Yeah, you did good things, too."

Winkler nearly loses his balance after his wrists are unshackled because his legs are so weak, and Rake needs to help steady him. Gaspar enters the basement after hiding the dead bodyguard's body.

Winkler sees him and says, "Oh, come on. Gaspar is here, too?! Didn't anybody listen to me at boot camp?!"

When Gaspar sees how badly injured his former trainer is, he loses it.

He points his pistol at Smirnoff and growls, "You sadistic piece of shit!"

The crime boss is only starting to recover from the pistol to the head. He sits up, and his eyes bulge with fear when he sees the gun aimed at his face.

However, Winkler pushes past Rake and lunges at Gaspar.

"No!" he shouts, pushing the American's right arm down so that the pistol is pointed at the floor. "Don't kill him."

"What the hell, man?!" Gaspar protests. "After everything he did to you?"

"He has a reason. I killed his mother when he was just a child."

"I know. You were doing your job. And his mother was a white slaver and a murderer among other nasty things. The world is better off without her. And from what I've heard, it's better off without him, too."

"And which of his loved ones is coming after you one day if you kill him? When will the cycle of vengeance end, huh?"

Rake calmly tells Gaspar, "He's right. This is an extraction, not an assassination. We have what we came for. Let's go."

Gaspar still doesn't like it. It's obvious by how his jaw tenses. But he concedes nonetheless.

"It's your lucky day, you son of a bitch," he tells Smirnoff.

Then, he knocks the crime boss unconscious with a size 12 boot to the face. Afterwards, he takes the little Russian's shirt, shoes, and jacket and gives them to Winkler.

Before they exit the basement, the old man sadly says to the unconscious young torturer, "I'm sorry about your mother."

X

The two mercs and the war vet exit the farmhouse without encountering any further resistance.

As they make their way through the forest, Rake contacts Khan through his radio earpiece, "We have him. Pick us up."

"Roger," the woman replies.

The three men suddenly stop. Standing in their way is a short but muscle-bound Chinese man. He is wearing nothing but kung fu pants, cloth slip-on shoes, and a thick red cloth belt tied to the side. His sinewy arms are crossed over his chest, and he is scowling down his nose at the trio.

A couple of tense, silent minutes go by.

Then, Gaspar whispers, "Who the fuck is this guy?"

"I don't know," Winkler replies in confusion. "Maybe he's one of Smirnoff's enforcers."

A few more tense, silent minutes pass.

"Alright, I'll take care of 'im," Gaspar offers and walks forward.

"Don't shoot him! He's unarmed," Winkler reminds him.

"I won't shoot 'im. I'll just scare 'im a little."

The big American shakes his pistol at the little Chinese man and says, "Alright, runt. Out o' the way."

The Chinese man doesn't move.

Rake postulates, "Maybe he doesn't speak English."

"I'm not speaking to him in English. I'm speaking to him in gun," Gaspar explains. "Everybody speaks gun. It's the universal language. When someone shakes a gun at your face, you fucking get out of the w-"

He screams when the little Asian suddenly grabs his right hand and twists it outward. The Chinese man shoves his right foot into the American's belly. Gaspar crashes into Rake. Both mercenaries fall on the ground. The Asian dashes towards Winkler.

The old man does peace signs with both hands and frantically squeals, "No, no, no! Peace! Peace!"

The Chinese man howls and knocks Winkler down with a flying side kick to the chest.

"Stop!" Khan shouts, pointing her pistol at the back of the little man's head. She calls to her teammate, "Rake, you all right?"

The little Asian suddenly knocks the woman away with a back kick to the abdomen. Khan grunts as her back slams against the thick trunk of a tree. Before she can recover, the Chinaman lunges and peppers her with rapid punches to the stomach. Khan yelps with each punch.

Rake shoves Gaspar off him. He quickly gets back up and roars as he rushes towards the Asian attacker. He tackles the much smaller man, picks him up, and slams him down hard on the ground. Then, he starts stomping on him with his right boot.

Khan recovers a little and repeatedly stomps on the Chinaman, too. Gaspar and Winkler get back on their feet and join in. Soon, they are all kicking at and stamping on their enemy.

When they finally stop, all four of them are out of breath. Winkler even has to bend forward and lean his hands on his knees. The Chinese man is lying unconscious and bloodied on the ground.

Hugging her still aching stomach, Khan groans, "Who the hell is this guy?"

"I don't know," the old man breathlessly answers. "I don't know you either."

"Oh!" the young woman exclaims with a smile. "You must be Sergeant Winkler. I'm Khan. Rake has told me so many things about you."

Winkler stares at Rake in quiet, open-mouthed shock.

Then, Khan jumps when the old man shouts at the tall bearded merc, "You fucking idiot! You would risk this beautiful young lady to save a useless geezer like me? I could die in a couple of months. She has her whole life ahead of her. Bad enough that I have to live with your death on my conscience. Now, I have to live with hers, too!"

"No one's dying! Quit it with that!" Rake snarls.

X

Smirnoff wakes when he feels someone shaking him and calling his name. He opens his eyes and sees Antonov, a short-haired and bearded man with average height and build but above average skills.

"You alright, boss?" Antonov gently asks.

Smirnoff sits up, checks himself, and asks, "Where are my clothes?" Then, he frantically shouts, "Shit! They raped me! Those bastards raped me!"

"You still have your pants on, boss. Also, these intruders seem like professionals. I don't think they would waste time raping anybody during a rescue operation."

"Are you saying that raping me is a waste of time?!"

"Well, no. No, that's not what I meant at all."

"I bet it was that fat handsome American. You didn't see the lust in his enchanting eyes."

"Boss, do you want to get raped?"

"Get me some clothes. We're going after them."

X

It is morning, and Khan quickly but carefully drives her light utility vehicle over a wide icy road. There is nothing around for miles, not even trees. Rake is sitting on the passenger seat clutching his assault rifle to his chest. Gaspar and Winkler are in the back seat. The American is using a first-aid kit to try and treat the old man's injuries.

"Gaetan, we have him," Khan informs another member of her mercenary team through the vehicle's radio.

"That's awesome," Gaetan replies. "Do you guys need backup?"

"No. I think it's smooth sailing from here. Wait for us at the nearest village. We should be there in an hour."

"Copy."

After Khan breaks the connection, Gaspar looks through the rear windshield and anxiously says, "Uh, I think you may have spoken a little too soon, Khan."

"What are you talking about?" the woman asks.

Rake sees three black SUVs chasing after them on the side mirror and cusses, "Damnit, they found us."

He pulls back the operating rod and releases the safety on his assault rifle. Then, he lowers the window to his right.

"It's Smirnoff!" Winkler worriedly shouts.

"How'd they find us so fast?!" Khan asks while increasing the vehicle's speed.

"It's gotta be Antonov, Smirnoff's right-hand man. He's an excellent tracker. He was the one that abducted me."

Khan is just about to contact Gaetan to ask for help when a voice speaks from the radio, "This is Smirnoff. I would like to make a deal."

Rake growls, "How did you get this frequency?"

"My right-hand man is a man of many skills."

"Well, if he ever tires of working for you, tell him we're hiring."

"I have a better offer. Give me back the old man, and I will let you leave with your lives."

Gaspar grumbles to Winkler, "I told you we should've killed this guy." Then, he yells at the radio, "Hey, fuckwad! I have an even better offer. Go fuck yourself! We've already beaten your Chinese assassin."

"What Chinese assassin?"

Winkler squeaks, "Oh crap, we just beat the shit out of an innocent bystander."

"You said he was one of Smirnoff's enforcers!" Rake reminds him.

"I said maybe he was one of Smirnoff's enforcers."

"Hey, hey, hey! He may not have been working for Smirnoff, but he was definitely an asshole!" Gaspar insists. "Looking all smug and not wearing a shirt in this cold weather. He had it comin'!"

"How crass," Smirnoff calmly remarks. "You must be the fat and handsome American rapist."

"Hey, who're you calling a rapist?! You're a rapist!"

"My, you're just full of witty comebacks today, aren't you? I have one, too."

The light utility vehicle shudders when its back is peppered by automatic fire from several machine guns.

Khan shouts over the deafening gunshots, "Don't worry! The vehicle is bulletproof!"

Winkler corrects her, "Nothing is bulletproof after taking enough damage!"

"God! You're such a pessimist!" Rake snarls.

He leans out of the window and shoots at their pursuers with his assault rifle on its automatic fire mode.

When the Russians return fire, he ducks back inside the vehicle and yells, "Hold it steady, Khan! I can't hit them!"

"If I hold it steady, they'll hit us!" Khan yells back.

She is an excellent driver, but the road is too slippery for anyone trying to dodge bullets. She gasps when the wheels skid. The light utility vehicle drifts uncontrollably. Then, it flips over and rolls on its side.

X

Fortunately, the vehicle lands right side up on its wheels after it finally stops rolling. Rake nearly passes out, but the noise of thousands of bullets smacking against the armor on the driver's side of the vehicle wakes him. He checks on Khan. The woman is unconscious. There is a streak of blood running down the right side of her face.

Rake unfastens her seat belt. He opens the door on the passenger's side and slides out. Then, he reaches back inside, grabs the front of Khan's uniform, and grunts as he drags her out with one arm. He sits her down with her back against the vehicle's front tire and lightly taps her cheek with his hand.

"Khan! Wake up!" he yells.

Khan opens her eyes and groggily says, "Rake. Where are we?"

"We're still in Russia! Gangsters are still trying to kill us!"

"Oh. Damnit."

Rake turns and calls out, "Gaspar!"

"We're fine. We're fine," Gaspar reassures him as he and Winkler crawl out from the back of the vehicle.

He hands his sidearm to the old man. Then, he peeks from behind cover and sees four of Smirnoff's goons advancing towards them on foot while shooting with submachine guns.

Gaspar shoots back with his assault rifle. Winkler stands up and fires over the vehicle's roof. Two goons fall. The other two retreat. They join several of their comrades hiding behind the SUVs.

Smirnoff looks around at the frightened faces of his men and angrily shouts, "Well, don't just cower and piss in your pants! I gave you those guns. Use them!"

The goons obey and shoot at the light utility vehicle again. Gaspar and Winkler take cover. Khan reaches for the car radio and pulls the mic free.

"Gaetan! Gaetan, can you hear me?! We need help!" she yells into it. Then, she shakes the mic in her hand and cusses, "Damnit! I think it's broken!"

Gaspar complains, "You just had to tell 'im that we didn't need backup."

"Oh, shut up!"

Winkler whines, "We can't win this. There's too many of them. Look, let me just give myself up. I'm the one Smirnoff wants."

"We're not doing that," Rake sternly replies.

"Oh, you've got a better idea?"

The bearded merc smirks confidently and says, "We're better trained. By you, in fact. And I'm willing to bet that we want you alive more than they want you dead."

Gaspar ejects the empty magazine of his assault rifle and replaces it with a fresh one.

"We're running out of ammo here," he informs the others.

"Then make every shot count," Rake instructs everyone.

Gaspar fires a short burst of bullets, but he only hits the surface of an SUV three gangsters are hiding behind.

"I said make every shot count!" his fellow merc admonishes him.

"Oh, and you can do better?" the American snaps.

With his assault rifle on its semi-automatic fire mode, Rake stands up and fires three consecutive shots. He kills the three gangsters with headshots. Then, he immediately ducks back down behind the light utility vehicle.

Gaspar grouses, "Alright, now you're just showing off in front of the girl."

Antonov stares in shock at his three dead comrades. They were among the criminal organization's best men. He trained them himself. Now, each one is lying on the ground, bleeding from a hole through the forehead. The man of many skills desires revenge. But he also does not wish to lose any more friends.

"Retreat!" he shouts.

"What?!" Smirnoff shrieks. "You can't order a retreat. You're not in charge!"

"You're right, boss. You do it."

"What?! Why would I do that?!"

"Because as much as you miss your mother, I don't think you want to join her just yet."

Smirnoff considers his right-hand man's words. Antonov had always given him good advice, and the young crime lord has learned to value the other man's counsel.

The gangsters feel relieved when their boss grudgingly commands, "Retreat!"

They hurriedly pile into the SUVs and drive away.

"Hey, look! They're leaving!" Khan shouts.

"Let them go," Rake says. "If we shoot at them, they might change their minds."

"We did it!" Gaspar and Winkler cheer in unison.

The two men hug. Afterwards however, the smile vanishes from Gaspar's lips when he sees a splotch of blood on the older man's shirt.

He points at it and worriedly says, "Sarge. You're hit!"

Winkler quickly searches himself for a gunshot wound but doesn't find any.

"It's not my blood," he says.

Gaspar looks down and sees the hole in his tactical vest.

"Oh fuck…" he groggily says before he faints.

"No, no, no! This is what I was afraid of!" Winkler wails as he kneels next to Gaspar. "I knew it! I knew this was going to happen! Rake! YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"

X

In spite of all the damages it has sustained, the light utility vehicle still manages to take the small party to the nearest village where Gaetan is waiting for them. Gaspar is taken to a Russian doctor that Khan knows for emergency surgery.

When he is stable enough for travel, he is immediately transferred to a hospital in America. A couple of weeks later, Rake and Winkler visit him.

While sitting in bed with his mouth full of hospital food, Gaspar asks, "Where's Khan?"

"She couldn't come along," Rake explains. "She's busy with the technical and boring side of mercenary work that you and I are too stupid to understand."

"Yeah? I bet she'd be here if you were the one sitting in this hospital bed."

Gaspar and Winkler laugh. Rake just chuckles and shakes his head.

"So how are you feeling?" the retired drill sergeant asks the patient.

"Great!" Gaspar answers while taking another spoonful. "I don't know why hospital food gets such a bad rap. I love this stuff."

"I can see that."

"How about you, Sarge? How's life treating ya?"

"Aw, it's wonderful. I'm spending most of my time with my grandkids. I don't even know if I deserve to be this happy-"

"Don't," Rake playfully warns him.

"I won't, I won't! No more guilt, just gratitude," the old man laughs. Then, he becomes serious and adds, "Rake, I'm sorry I called you a fucking idiot."

"Nah. I'm used to it by now."

"I'd also like to thank you. The both of you. And I pray that one day, you will both have stubborn trainees that will come save your lives even when you tell them not to."

Gaspar places his hands behind his head and arrogantly says, "You don't have to worry about me, Sarge. As you can clearly see, I'm fucking immortal. I ain't ever going to die."

END