Organizing the departure from the Caspian was much harder than Artyom anticipated. Not everyone was willing to go out of their way to perform what he asked for. Fortunately, there was some form of hope when Giul was found. Her home sat atop a treasure trove of maps that were recorded from the satellites above and it was surprising that such ancient machines of the past were still operating long after the war.
What they really needed was water supplies, enough to last for the journey out of the desert for every soul he would be saving. Thankfully, they did not have to look far as the remains of the rescue party found themselves preparing for a snatch and grab. While most of the troops were waiting for the signal, a small group of soldiers made up of Polis Rangers and OSKOM had sought out a route that led them to the source of their needs.
The young man and his force of twenty had slipped off their gas masks while turning on their night vision goggles. Where most people would see darkness underneath the moonlight, these soldiers could navigate around their enemies with impunity. In front of them, was a reservoir of freshwater deep in the caves while a simple mechanical system of bucket lifts carried a portion of it to the top. On the other side was a set of stairs and catwalks that would easily allow the group to ascend.
They slowly moved towards their only path, but a gut feeling overcame him and stopped. The catwalks vibrated as a conversation among two bandits had entered their purview, their flashlights lit while their guard was down. "Hey, shouldn't there be slaves here?"
The second one following him had dismissed those concerns with a wave of a hand. "It's not our job to worry. Besides, we got that thing going for us. The only time I have ever seen slaves down here was when they pissed off one of the guys above."
When they were at the bottom of the stairs, one of the men took out a cigarette and the other offered a light. The smoke break gave some time to consider a means of a takedown as Artyom looked over his shoulder towards the nearest soldier. "They're mine."
His hands let go of his assault rifle as he reached down into his pockets for his throwing knives, it has been quite some time since he had a proper infiltration. Both hands were holding the blades as he slowly walked up to his targets to minimize the distance. Then he winded his hand and threw a knife into the smoker while the second bandit paused and immediately realized his current situation before Artyom gave him the other throw.
Once the bandits were struck down, the group went up the stairs and catwalk in an orderly, but methodical advance. Unlike the bottom sections of the catwalk, the sounds of metalwork and talking drowned out their movements as they came closer. With the shadows still on their side, the soldiers retained the initiative.
Artyom took a look at the functions of the bucket lift and traced the work towards a wheel at the center of the base. A clockwork mechanism powered by a platoon of slaves while an overseer sat close with his shotgun in hand. He did not want them to get caught in the crossfire once a shootout occurs, but the soldiers needed this water to survive. Hopefully, the men with him could give him some degree of trust. "Stay here, I'm going to open the gates and let the others through. If it does not go well, proceed as planned."
When he took a good look at his fellow brothers-in-arms, they nodded their heads as they maintained their silence amidst the shadows before he proceeded to make his way towards the flights of stairs leading to the gatehouse above. The young man crawled underneath the wheel of slaves as they told jokes to themselves to endure the pain and he would hear the reprimands from their overseer.
Once Artyom had found his way to the other side, the road was dimly lit as a truck entered the gates without a hassle. It was surprising given that most of their forces were hiding behind the dunes just beyond those doors. Then a headlight flickered, allowing a temporary crossing as he quietly hustled his way to the base of the stairs.
He heard someone coming down the stairs and immediately hid underneath the steps. The bandit was unaware of his presence when he finally came down. "Hey, did anyone see Vassily and Wolf?"
The overseer replied with an answer. "They're at the reservoir just as you told them."
"Good. Some of the boys heard some shooting down there and I don't like it."
"You think it's those soldiers? I think they're a bunch of fucking idiots if they think they could get there without alerting us. They're probably dead now."
"Maybe, but I would like to make sure."
The stairs were no longer under anyone's watch, allowing the Polis Ranger to move up unmolested. Artyom continued on his path as he began to earn a decent view of multiple targets from his vantage points. Then he reached the last set of stairs, but before he considered climbing up, he found himself also standing between a power box and a closet. If his comrades were going to assault this place, they needed every advantage.
He walked over and flicked every switch off and the consequences showed when all the lights within the base had left only darkness. It began to earn the ire of the guards as one began to make his way over. Yet, Artyom knew full well it will be in vain as he stood quietly in the closet.
A pair of footsteps and a flashlight began to arrive at the place. "Don't worry guys, I'll take care of this. We should get someone to check it out before the new shift arrives."
The bandit's back was turned against him and Artyom did not hesitate to take his life. One hand reached out for his trench knife and the other wrapped his glove around his target's mouth. Muffled screams tried to alert the others; however, his knife committed the fell deed before dragging the corpse into the closet. When he was done with the kill, he proceeded up the next set of stairs to his left.
There was only one single guard that was present in the guardhouse, but he was surrounded by an army of beer bottles and didn't take much resistance to walk past him. His eyes looked up at him with one in hand as he smiled. "Drink!"
Artyom didn't find any harm in the act as he took it from him and sipped a bit of alcohol into his systems. Then he made his way towards his objective, the controls to the gate. As he stood above the lever, he pulled and opened the gates for his comrades. A combination of fencing and metal sheets that constitute the main entrance had swung open, inciting a chaotic surprise from the reservoir guards.
Coalition troops stormed into the breach as the idle bandits were taken aback by the assault. The OSKOM and Polis Rangers that remained in the darkness had revealed themselves, creating a two-pronged assault from the front and rear positions. Yet, Artyom did not remain idle in his position as he brandished his railgun and fired upon targets of opportunity.
The slaves, on the other hand, had found themselves in a confused state. All of their labor came to a halt as they sought out protection behind broken cars and barrels amidst the fighting. As the soldiers asserted control over the reservoir, they stayed together and feared for their fate.
Giul ran up to them in a hopeful attitude. "The Munai-Bailer are dead, come take your freedom before they return."
A momentary pause occured between them before the slaves fled through the gates as the troops poured into the opening.
The Polis Ranger made his way from the top of the gatehouse to the base of the stairs. When he looked at the entrance, Pavel arrived with a weapon in hand as he began shouting towards the top of his lungs. "Get as much water all of you can carry! We'll be heading out soon after!"
Artyom slung his assault rifle over his shoulder as he and Giul joined him. Yet, she voiced her concern before them. "The Baron will be angry when he discovers we attacked his water supply. He'll try to hunt you down on your way out of the Caspian."
"What then?" Pavel wondered, "Is there a way to delay him?"
"Let me handle that," The local answered, "I can be quite the distraction and it will be enough for him to send his men to overlook his search for you."
It felt like it was time for them to part ways from this point onward. "Thank you for helping us, Giul."
She nodded her head before walking out of the gate.
A splash of cold water ran against Kristoff's face. He awoke from his slumber and was confused more than ever. The first thought that came into his mind was his whereabouts as his eyes adjusted to the room's relatively dark space. It had been a long time since the young man felt true fear, but as he regained his senses, the young man noticed the dark figures sitting on barrels and crates opposite from him. Glimpses of light from the ceiling revealed armed men with firearms in hand and rapiers at their side while one of these soldiers carried a half-empty bucket. The ice harvester tried to speak, but his mouth was muffled against his will.
Nothing in this room gave him any comfort as a silhouette on the far side of the room had turned to face him. "Is he awake?"
One of the guards, carrying the bucket had leaned closer and given him two slaps to the face before he turned his back on him. "Ja."
"Good," Answered a delighted man as he revealed himself to the light above, "Then it is time for this particular conversation."
A man stepped forward from the shadows and placed a wooden chair in front of Kristoff before the interrogator took his seat and revealed his identity. It was horrifying to acknowledge that Prince Hans had imprisoned him here.
"You and I both know why you are here. You tried to tell Princess Anna about my participation in her kidnapping," Then he shook his head with a disapproving expression, "We can't have that now, can we?"
He wanted to talk to fight back against his bonds, but it was no use. Something about this man felt sinister as he waited for the prince to continue.
"The throne of Arendelle is just moments away from my grasp and I can't let you spoil a plan in the making. It just won't do, but that doesn't mean that we can't come to an agreement. I intend to become the king and if you remained silent, you will be rewarded handsomely for your cooperation. What say you?"
The prince's hand reached forward for the rag covering Kristoff's mouth as he slipped it off.
"This is your one and only opportunity to talk."
It took him a moment to gather his thoughts together. He really did not want to submit to the prince, but his pride wouldn't get him anywhere if he defiantly refused. So, he swallowed the dark reality that he would agree with Hans. "Yes, I won't talk."
The royal smiled as he patted him on the shoulder. "Thank you."
His attention glanced over to the guards and rose up from his seat.
"Make sure he sleeps with the fishes."
He was filled with horror as he tried to yell for help. Yet, one of the guards punched him in the stomach and snuffed out all the air he could muster. The rag was slipped back on his mouth as the guards began their preparations. A blanket was laid out in front of him before his body was moved off the chair and tossed into the center. Kristoff tried to wriggle his way out of their reach, but it was to no avail. They quickly wrapped him up in the blanket, removing every chance of escape from his captors.
When they were finished, his body felt a constricting solid object being wrapped around his body as if it was to maximize his watery death. His mouth breathed heavily, but with the rag over his mouth, it was only a matter of time before they were done with him. A solid click echoed from outside the blanket as one of the guards talked. "He won't be getting out of this. Help me drop him off outside."
Several pair of hands had lifted him off the ground before his body was laid against their shoulders. The wooden boards began to knock at every step of their boots as he remained silent in their charge. It sounded like they were walking up some steps, but Kristoff was not sure where he was and he didn't know where he was going. Nonetheless, he prepared for the worst of his fate.
The cool breeze of the dockyards was enough of an indication that it was his time. He wanted to cry out for help and hoped that anyone could come to his aid. Then the men carrying him had lifted him off their shoulders and tossed him into the air. As gravity pulled him down, the ice harvester wanted to say sorry to both his closest friend and his family that took care of him.
Prince Vaska entered the meeting room once more, waiting for the news about the whereabouts of the tsar's grandson. He had hoped that Artyom would be there to be told about his mother's legacy. Instead, there was the famed Colonel Mel'nikov sitting on the opposite side of his desk, but there was no one else present. "You called for me?"
The Russian officer rose from his seat and turned around, his eyes disheartened by events that Vaska did not know. "Yes, it is about the crown prince."
"Where is he? Are you going to take him to me so we can make it official?"
He shook his head. "We lost him."
The nobleman's eyes had hardened as he stormed his way over to confront him. "What happened? Your people promised that he would return to his majesty and now you fail to even protect him!"
Somehow, it sparked a fire within the colonel. "It was not my fault. He was just with us before the teleportal failed him and a hundred other soldiers."
"So where is he now?" There were many answers and he hoped this man would provide enough, "There must be something you can do?"
"Artyom and the others are trapped in our world near the Caspian sea," Mel'nikov answered, "My engineers have tried to reconnect with him and the rest of our people, but they are trapped in a desert surrounded by an army of bandits. That teleporter was the only way in and out of that place, but there is nothing we can do about it."
"Couldn't you send another expedition to save him? Tsar Mikhail would be grateful to return a family member into his fold."
His face was distressed by the situation he was in. "I can't. The only other option to save those men is to send an expedition from Novosibirsk or Moscow, but they are too far. By the time those expeditions reach them, Artyom and the rest of our comrades would be dead by then."
Prince Vaska decided to urge him to continue saving him. "You cannot just write him off as a dead man. Artyom is too important to the crown to die at the hands of bandits."
"You think I want him to leave him there?" He wondered, "Artyom was one of my best men in the Order and what makes it worse is that I can't help him no matter how hard I try. He is a good man and it pains me to think about how much he has to go through, but I am incapable of saving him even now."
"Is there an alternative way for him to make his way back to this world? Can he make it?"
The colonel went back to his seat and placed a hand on his forehead. "I don't know. The destruction of our world has made it nearly impossible for anyone to survive in the wasteland. We don't have any information on the state of the infrastructure and neither do we have the knowledge to determine whether the routes are irradiated or not. What is worse is that Artyom doesn't even know that either. If he does try to make it back to our cities, he would have to deal with mutants we have never faced before or more groups of bandits that roam the country."
He took a moment to register the dangerous situation the crown prince would find himself in. The only details that seemed relevant to him was the bandits, but he had no idea about the radiation or the mutants. Yet, it seemed like it had to be taken seriously as well. "So you have considered him dead."
Mel'nikov looked up from his chair. "Yes. Artyom would have to make an impossible journey in order to make it back to us. Moscow is a wasteland, Novosibirsk is too radioactive that he'll die just by entering the city, and his only hope is to meet up with a train expedition in Far East Russia. The best we can hope for is a prayer that is how much deep shit he's in."
It was hard for Prince Vaska to hear what was being said. Not long ago, he had met the man in person and he would have been another person he had stumbled upon on his visits to foreign countries and now he was looking for the heir to the throne. Then he turned his back on the colonel, knowing full well that his duty in searching and returning a member of the royal family to be a failure. He did not want to be like the tsar, grasping out for hope that somehow they would come back. All he could do was anticipate for the news. "I'll be in Arendelle for the time being and if your people need anything, I'll offer my assistance."
"We appreciate that and I am sure Artyom would as well."
Princess Anna waited near the entrance of the base camp. While her sister grieved for Artyom, she had to temporarily take the reigns of power and handle the day-to-day affairs of the kingdom. After her first few decisions made, she hoped that Elsa would return to her duties soon.
Kai walked up to her as the castle servants greeted the first of the evacuees. "Your highness, we can take this from here."
She turned her head and reluctantly spoke. "No, I need to be here. Elsa needs me here."
"I understand," The servant acknowledged, "It's just that some of the topics might bore you."
"Definitely, but being here still counts for these people."
A sea of people exited the entrance to the underground fortress, carrying all they could bring with them. Countless families, stalkers, and soldiers looked up at the sky with their eyes gazing at the clouds full of hope. She had never expected the event to go this way as the people slowly walked down the slopes of Arendelle's hills. Kai eagerly greeted those who passed by, smiling and welcoming these weary souls. Even the expressions of tired soldiers had garnered a handshake or a hug before making their way to the town.
Anna smelled a warm aroma in the air and it was clear that it caught on the otherworlders as well. She turned around and saw Gerda and a noticeable number of Arendellians entere the base camp with food in their hands. They eagerly handed out portions to those who wanted some, guaranteeing the newcomers that there was more near their destination.
What truly garnered a heartfelt moment was when there were adults trying to introduce chocolate to their children. She couldn't help, but feel how much it meant to these people that a simple treat could make their lives feel special.
Then she caught a glimpse of an old friend. He walked out from the crowd while in the company of armed soldiers, their faded uniforms being brought underneath the sunlight. The older individual was eager to greet her with a smile on his face. "Your highness, it's great to see you again."
Anna's blood began to fade from her head as her stomach churned at what she had to do. She didn't want to say it, but it had to be done. "Sukhoi, we have to talk."
"What's wrong?" His facial expression changed from happiness into worry, "Did something happen here?"
"Yes, but we should talk about it at the castle."
Yet, he somehow found an opportunity to still be positive about the situation. "Great, it would be nice to see how Artyom is doing."
"No," She replied, "That's the problem, it's about Artyom."
His eyes changed, an old man waiting for the response. "Is he okay?"
The princess shook her head. "I am sorry that I have to tell you the news. He sacrificed himself to save Elsa and myself. He's gone."
Somehow, deep within her heart, it felt like she killed him.