Welcome to Raid I! After accepting a contract from the Soviet Army, Ian and a carefully-selected squad of human operatives must aid the Soviets in eliminating a smuggler group infamous for stealing military Dolls and supplies.

Created in a desire for a man vs. man chapter to warm up for War, this chapter will either be a stand-in for 2-2, the predecessor to 2-2, or I will say "fuck canon" and go my own way, and with more than one Griffin Doll captured, we'll be seeing multiple new faces after this. And I just learned that the structual explosions in the past chapters were way too Hollywood for my tastes, as C4 does not cause a fireball upon detonation, and as I'm going for a story that's as realistic as possible (although I had to take liberties for some stuff to work,) that's kinda counterproductive.

By the way, they finally did it: SCAR-H (RF) and SCAR-L (AR), after years of waiting, are now usable units in GFL. The only problem? SCAR-L's apparently a highly-decorated WW3 veteran, but it's a confirmed fact that no second-gen Dolls served in WW3, unless she was first-gen beforehand. But at least that bit of info's given me an idea on what to do in the future.

To HECU Marine, now that you say it, that line does bring Dutchko's fanart to mind, and to Culture-Hunt3r, I hope this combat chapter satisfies you.

Anyways, please enjoy!

(Notes: the smugglers are meant to kinda look like MW2 2009's Ultranationalists, more accurately the ones in Loose Ends, an the Mary Sue comment is a referrence to Kait Diaz from Gears 5, who is notorious for not listening to anything any ranking officers say.)

Station 794 Armory, Sector 09

Ukraine, Neo-Soviet Union

July 11, 2062

Commander Ian Becker

After eating a scruptulous dinner made by Springfield along with a small cake from Sten, then going to bed and setting his alarm to 5:30 AM, Ian quickly awoke when it rang to find a note from Kalina explaining her whereabouts at the armory, where he needed to be.

Clad in his Army uniform, he quickly strode through the halls to the armory, crossjng the distance rather easily and quickly catching the attention of a recently-repaired M1911, who once again looked good as new after Andrei worked his magic on her.

"What's going on, Commander?" she asked once she reached him.

"Took a contract from the Soviets and they don't want Dolls to do it." he quickly replied, causing M1911 to grumble irritably.

"Stupid anti-Doll bigots."

"That's not why." he told her. "It's because this smuggler group the Soviets wanna bag, they've got an anti-Doll scrambler designed to quell Doll riots and are using it to disable and steal Dolls."

"Oh. Makes sense."

"Yeah, especially 'cuz they tried using Dolls to stop them but lost them instead, and now they've got military gear in their arsenal. Because of the human-only requirement, I've selected me, Kalina, Cheeto, and Andrei to assist them in eliminating the threat, with Kamalov and a Soviet Colonel providing tactical support."

"Got it."

Going down the stairs, they soon reached the armory, where the other three humans were gearing up and clad in various different uniforms, with the Russians wearing the Russian EMR camo pattern and Cheeto and himself wearing OCP uniforms, with slight variations like the American Humvee driver's short-sleeved compression layer instead of a uniform and Kalina of course included something that set her apart— a little cat-badge next to a Griffin shield on her shoulder and a pair of black tipless gloves.

"So uh, any requirements on equipment?" M1911 asked.

"Uh..."

Checking the file on his phone, he groaned when he saw the requirement of a 5.45x39 firing weapon, preferably an AK of some kind, as well as a nine-mil pistol.

"I need an AK-74M, probably so I can share ammo with them. I'll decide on the attachments." he told her, prompting her to fetch the appropriate weapon.

One perk of being a merc: you can at least pick what goes on your gun.

"Damn it, just go on, already..."

Looking up from the file, Ian merely chuckled when he saw Kalina struggling to put a Ratnik ballistic vest on, her bust getting in the way as she tried to put it on. Putting his phone away, he decided to help her out.

"Need a hand?" he asked, causing her to look up at him.

"Yes, please." she grunted out, trying to fit the vest on properly.

Closing the distance, he pushed himself against her back to keep the back of her plate carrier flush against her, then helped her tuck her chest into the front part as she secured it to herself by the side-straps, idly noting how soft they felt through her jacket but not commenting on it. A light blush dusted her fair cheeks from their closeness, but she didn't say anything about it, instead opting to let him aid her.

"Haah, spasibo, Komandir." she breathed relievedly once it was on the right way.

"Uh, pozhalustya, just be sure to have your vest custom-fitted to you after this. I still remember how much Laura bitched about her vest fitting oddly before she could get a replacement." the Commander told her, shaking his head amusedly and causing her to look up at him.

"Laura?"

"Old combat medic. She was supposed to work with a whole platoon, but my squad was the only squad to survive Berlin, so she was counted as a squad member anyways." he told her, shuddering as the memories of his comrades' brutal deaths. "She took her work very seriously and she absolutely hated losing patients."

"Ahh."

After making sure her other gear fit the right way, Ian then went to grab his own gear from the crate he'd set it in, securing his Modular Scaling Vest to himself with much more ease than his adjutant. Next, he secured his thigh holster to its place on his right leg along with a pouch on the other leg, then he secured a smartphone-sized tacpad to his arm by its straps before finally putting his helmet and visor on, allowing him to slip his favorite Oakley gloves on and look up to see M1911 return with an AK-74M in hand, an assortment of optics and mods in a bag hanging off her arm.

"Thanks." he said, taking the rifle and the bag of optics, looking inside the latter.

In said bag was an EOTech holographic sight, a Kobra red dot sight, one of their newer sights, a Sangvis Ferri-made sight, and a PSO 4x sight, while the accessories included a weapon flashlight (which was superflous thanks to his helmet's flashlight,) a PEQ-15 laser sight, a vertical foregrip, and a heartbeat sensor tablet (which would be cumbersome on his gun but useful otherwise).

Huh, so SF's optics are still usable after all this time? I'd think they'd be scrambled up for unauthorized users.

"Oh, uh, you know how SF made optics and stuff for the Soviets' infantry weapons, right?" M1911 asked.

"Course I do. I actually used a gun with that optic on it, and I'm going to go ahead and tell you that I was distinctly jealous of them for being able to cram a proper ballistics CPU into an EOTech-sized optic, whereas we had to make a separate module for it." Ian admitted.

"So turns out while their weapons have biometric locks and their Dolls can't be hacked without proper equipment and knowledge of their build, their optical sights are still useful, but they require a thorough debugging thanks to built-in trackers, and the Soviets dumped any and all SF tech after they went rampant." M1911 explained. "As for us, most Dolls have no need for aimbot-optics, AK refuses to use enemy tech, and the humans are in the same boat."

Nodding in understanding, his eyes immediately fell to the Kobra, its sleek shape and round sight picture very appealing to him.

"Let's go with the Kobra and the PEQ, then." he said, withdrawing the two attachments from the bag along with the AK-74M's rail attachment to put the Kobra on. Carefully attaching the optic-based items, with the PEQ on a side rail, and putting the heartbeat sensor in a pouch on his vest, he watched as his allies finished gearing up, with Kalina pulling out an AKS-74U, also known as the Krinkov, and loading it.

"It's for the tighter spaces in the den, I've seen the AO in the file." she explained when she saw him raise an eyebrow, picking up an AK-74M with a PSO 4x on it. "As for the ammo thing, the Krink's mags are brighter than the 74M's so I don't chip into the other's supply by mistake."

"Got it."

Suddenly, the phone rang, and Ian swore when he saw the caller ID: Colonel Kirill Antonov.

"I gotta take this." he told his allies, answering the call. "Hello?"

"Good morning, Griffin Commander." the imposing voice on the othrr end replied. "My name is Colonel Kirill Antonov, and I heard from Miss Helianthus that you took my contract. Is that correct?"

"Yes, sir. I've already put a team together and we're currently gearing up for the operation."

"Excellent. My own forces will arrive at your base in approximately one hour to take your personnel to the operation site, so be ready." Colonel Antonov replied.

"Understood, but I'll be accompanying them on this mission, as there was nothing in your file saying I couldn't and I want to personally guarantee my subordinates' safety." the Griffin Commander told him. "As a result, my colleague Feodor Kamalov will be providing tactical support for the ground forces."

"How bold of you to volunteer yourself, but that is to be expected for the man who destroyed a Ringleader of Sangvis Ferri so early in his career, head-on no less."

That comment made him raise an eyebrow.

"How do you know of Uproot?" he inquired sharply.

"I only know the publicly-released portion of the operation, but what I do know from it is that you're a capable officer, and that you're a good fit for this task."

"Huh. Well, I'll be ready when the time comes to execute the operation."

"Good. Do'svidania, for a time."

The call then ended, allowing the Commander to put his phone away and finish gearing up, then check to see if his subordinates had finished gearing up, at which he finally realized why he felt so odd about being a commanding officer: it was because he had a) never been one and b) back in the Army all he did was follow orders to the best of his ability and hope he didn't die until the war ended, and for the most part, he only needed to watch over his squad and ensure their survival, but now, he had the responsibility of keeping over thirty people and Dolls alive, instead of just seven or eight others.

Despite that, he'd try his damndest to keep his people alive, because for better or worse, they were in this together.

"When you're finished gearing up, meet me at the front gate." he told his subordinates, grabbing some spare ammo for his rifle and heading upstairs.

In the back of his mind, he could've sworn he'd heard M1911 pray for his safety, but he didn't put further thought into it, simply choosing to focus on the matter at hand.

An hour later, at which his team members had joined him, a single Russian transport vehicle drove up to the gates, not even requesting clearance from the guard but instead sitting outside the gate, with a man clad in an officer's uniform getting out of the passenger seat, his clean-shaven and sharp visage telling of his professionalism. The three-silver-starred shoulder-pins on his uniform only told of this further.

"Ah, Commander, it is good to meet you." Colonel Antonov greeted once he laid eyes on the Commander, and it took everything he had in him not to strike him down where he stood.

"Uh, good to meet you, too." he said, grasping his hand in a handshake instead of shooting him.

"Hmm, so you were a military man before Griffin?" Colonel Antonov asked, looking down at his uniform and gear with a sort of curious gaze, his eyes lingering on the US flag patch, PFC patch, and the Big Red One's shield.

"Yep, I may have even butted heads with your forces at some point, but that's behind us, now, I suppose. Anyways, this is Andrei Chernov, former Soviet Doll repairman," Ian indicated the weathered mechanic, who seemed to recognize the Soviet Colonel before him judging by his annoyed look, "Specialist Chester Johnson, a driver for the US Army, 75th Ranger Regiment," he then indicated Cheeto, who gave them a two-fingered salute, "and Kalina... fuck, just call her by her first name, but she's a longtime Griffin and Kryuger employee."

The military officer gave his team a scrutinizing glance, watching their body language and how they treated the hardware in their hands, before nodding approvingly and returning to the truck.

"Get in the back, there's enough room for you all." he ordered, pointing to the canopied rear end of the vehicle as he got into the passenger seat.

Nodding in understanding, Ian got the gate open and directed his forces to the indicated area, and once they reached the back two Soviet soldiers were seen waiting to pull them up, ranked Private First Class and wearing EMR uniforms. As he and Kalina were pulled into the vehicle he noticed the soldier pulling her up stare intently at her uniform-clad body as he did so, and for whatever reason he couldn't help but stare menacingly at the bastard, as if he was threatening death for even looking at his adjutant the wrong way.

Next up were Cheeto and Andrei, who were pulled up without issue, although the soldier pulling Andrei up had a look of recognition in his eyes when they locked eyes for a moment.

"Otlichno, my zagruzilis'!" one of the men, a Staff Sergeant, yelled in Russian as the soldiers at the back shut the door to the troop compartment.

Finding two unoccupied seats in the right side of the compartment, he immediatdly took one of them and pulled Kalina into the other one, carefully wrapping an arm around her waist and ensuring she was by his side while they waited to enter the AO, the action prompting him to take note of his other actions.

Hang on, why am I being so protective of a girl I've only known for a week all of a sudden? Is it because I'm literally surrounded by former hostiles? Is it because of how that one guy ogled her?

Whatever the reason, it at least gave him something to think about as the truck started and did a 180, going around the way they came and towards wherever they were going.

"We'll be heading to a nearby Command Post first, so that I can direct the battle from afar. In the meantime, feel free to get to know my men better." Colonel Antonov told the Commander through his comms.

With that in mind, the dark-haired American knew for a fact that he needed to get used to working with the Russians, and that viewing them as enemies only made it harder to work with them, and as such, he decided to chat up the Staff Sergeant.

"What's your name, Sergeant?" he asked, choosing to be polite.

"Igor Gruzinsky." he replied curtly, his balaclava hiding his face from view.

"Uh, conscripted, or enlisted?"

"Enlisted. All of us are." Gruzinsky replied. "The two men by the door are Ivanov and Bolotnikov, the other sergeants are Bazarov and Alyokhin, and the others are Vitsin, Bok, Vavilov, Gorev, and Dobrynin. What about your men?"

Ignoring the fact that Gruzinsky didn't single Kalina out of that, Ian instead introduced everyone to the Staff Sergeant.

"I'm Ian Becker, formerly US Army and currently a Griffin Commander, that's Andrei Chernov, a former military technician who may or may not know Colonel Antonov, Chester Johnson, former driver for the Army Rangers, and Kalina, my very own second-in-command and a favorite of Griffin's Dolls."

Gruzinsky cast a scrutinizing gaze at Kalina that made him uncomfortable, then looked back to him with a nod.

"She seems a bit... delicate for your line of work." he commented, causing the "delicate" ginger to mutter "famous last words" under her breath.

"She's a longtime employee, and she's one of the only survivors of a vicious attack on her base," Ian told him, "so I don't think 'delicate' is an accurate descriptor."

The Soviet merely chuckled in response.

"Forgive me, Commander." he said, then something seemed to pop up in his head. "Oh, is she your girlfriend?"

The fuck did he just say?! the ex-soldier thought menacingly.

Ian snd Kalina shared a bewildered look, trying to understand why Gruzinsky asked that question, only for him to chuckle lightheartedly.

"Come on, you've got your arm around her waist and I saw you give Bolotnikov a death glare when he looked her way, so there should be no point in denying it."

He had a point, as much as Ian wanted to deny it. Had he been more professional, he would have ignored Bolotnikov's ogling and not had his arm wrapped around Kalina, and he sure as hell wouldn't have proposed that they spend the day gaming the previous night or given her a day off a few days previously.

"We're not dating, but I don't think he's too comfortable being around the Army right now, and I'm a familiar face." the ginger explained, causing the Sergeant to nod in understanding.

"Aah. Anyways, how long have you been with Griffin, Commander?"

"About a week." he replied. "I'm not sure how quickly that story spread, but I managed to take out a single, low-ranked Ringleader, and now everyone acts like I'm some kind of celebrity or something like that."

"Eliminating a Ringleader in open combat, no matter how low-ranked, is no easy feat, and to do so with mismatched teams on your third day, it'd be wrong if you weren't given any recognition after that."

"Haah, I am on the frontlines, after all."

Looking away from Gruzinsky, he instead looked to Cheeto and Andrei, who seemed a lot more comfortable in the vehicle than him as they chatted up the SVD-M-wielding Vavilov and the PKP-wielding Gorev.

"Yeah, this is gonna be a long trip."

Kalina

Throughout the entire ride, Kalina could easily tell how stressed out and uncomfortable her Commander was, thanks to how his eyes darted from soldier to soldier with suspiscion, how his grip around her waist would tighten up from time to time, and how his hand would subtly lay itself on his pistol's grip when a Soviet looked his way.

"Just pretend they aren't there, Komandir." she whispered to him, rubbing his back soothingly.

"That's a lot easier to do when there isn't EMR camo and the fucking Hammer and Sickle everywhere I look." the Commander muttered angrily. "How Cheeto's perfectly fine in here, I dunno."

Suppressing a giggle at his muttered response, she simply chose to lean her head on his shoulder as she rubbed his back, hoping to calm his nerves at least a little— which she accomplished as she felt his muscles relax slightly under her exposed fingertips.

"Thanks for being here, Kalina." he whispered, genuine thanks in his voice.

"You're welcome."

Despite the odd looks the Soviets gave them, she continued to soothe her boss as inconspicuously as possible. As a result, Cheeto gave her a knowing look and Andrei rolled his eyes, but she ignored them in favor of aiding the Commander and making sure he didn't shoot the Soviets out of paranoia.

Speaking of the Commander, the logistics officer had learned a good deal about him over their week of serving together, like how blunt he was concerning most subjects, or his fondness for medium-rare beef and fieldwork. She also learned of his more laid-back demeanor compared to Prokhorov, and how despite being a former enemy of the NUSSR, he didn't discriminate against his Russian employees, even going so far as to give AK-47 advice on coping with her trauma and allowing her to take a day off to enjoy the Fourth of July with him. Even then, the ginger knew he was hiding a lot from her, mostly about his service during WW3, and that he was a bit unused to being in a leadership position, relying on infantry tactics he learned as an infantryman and strategies likely used by his squad leader or having a hard time showing the authority a commanding officer should have.

Then again, it had only been a week since he'd been assigned to Station 794, so she was sure he'd get used to it over time— and that she'd be there to catch him if he fell. It was part of her job to support the Commander in any way she could, after all.

Commander Ian Becker

After about thirty more minutes of riding, in which Colonel Antonov was dropped off at a Command Post crawling with Soviet soldiers, they finally made it to the den, the entrance looking as if it belonged to an old air raid shelter and patrolled by a group of hostiles wearing stolen EMR camoflague uniforms with AK-74Ms. The area itself covered in pine trees, somewhat shrouding the shelter entrance from view.

Lowering his binoculars and ceasing his surveillance, Ian was secretly glad to have brought Kalina along, as he woukd have likely stayed on-edge and potentially shot a Soviet out of paranoia otherwise.

"Alright, everyone out!" Sergeant Gruzinsky called to his men, who immediately filed out of the vehicle in an orderly fashion, going down a grassy path down the hill they parked on.

"You heard him, everyone out!" the Commander yelled afterwards, prompting Kalina to grab her Krinkov and leave the truck, Cheeto and Andrei following suit. Looking back at the seat Gruzinsky occupied, he soon got out of the vehicle as well, picking his rifle up from its place hanging off of a sling and setting it to semi in preparation for the upcoming fight as his feet hit the grassy ground.

Pulling his binoculars again, he looked at the entrance once more, seeing the lack of gasmasks on the smugglers' faces, his own Geiger counter confirming that the area was clean of contamination. A look at their gloved hands revealed two AK-74Ms, a production model AK-12, an AK-15, a PP-19 Bizon, an AKP-44, which was developed a year before World War 3 broke out and looked quite similar to COD: Black Ops 3's KN-44 rifle, and an SVD-M in the hands of a sniper perched in the trees.

All in all, there were seven hostiles present at the entrance, with two of them staring into the forest with an unnatural level of focus.

"I have visual on seven hostiles, including a sniper, but there might be more." he reported anyways, then called Kamalov. "Oy, it's showtime."

"Understood. Sattelite scan only showed seven hostile contacts outside the shelter, but get this: I'm seeing a friendly signature in that forest next to the shelter entrance, but there's no ID attached. It may be a trap, though." the other rookie Commander told him.

"Got it. I'll keep you posted."

Ending the call, Ian then called Antonov.

"Colonel, what do you see?" he asked curtly, eyes on the men in the shelter entrance.

"About as much as your friend Kamalov, Commander." the Soviet officer told him. "However, that stray Griffin signature's ID is redacted, so it's either a trap or it's a Griffin elite."

"Understood."

Movement in the forest shifted his attention right, looking for the disturbance in the forest— only to lay eyes on a Doll he'd never seen before.

She was undeniably beautiful, with silky dark-brown hair that hung to her waist with a green stripe in it, soft brown eyes along with a gentle face and full lips belonging more to a young maiden than a soldier with a slim, but full figure to match. She wore a tight-fitting, dark green sleeveless top with a grey skull-patterned scarf that looked a lot like Matheson's own scarf, a pair of short-legged black shorts under a grey, dirt-stained jacket tied around her waist and a dark green/grey sash-like thing carrying spare mags, grey and bright green-trimmed knee-high boots with a distinctly futuristic look to them, a grey glove on her left hand and a brownish cybernetic-looking right hand, and a green armband with a logo he'd never seen: two black lined-up rectangles with a chevron cut into the center of the bottom one and a diagonal slash through the top one. Her clothing was torn-up here and there, with slight dirt stains marring her front, but otherwise she looked like she was fine.

The thing that stood out most on her wasn't her beauty, her choice of clothing, or the wear and tear on her uniform, but instead it was her rifle: a tan colored AR-platform gun with a green barrel-shrouding suppressor, a twenty-round 5.56x45 mag with a speedloading attachment on it, a tan EOTech sight, and a vertical foregrip. Thanks to his experience with his own service rifle, as well as a tan Colt logo on the side: it was a no-brainer to identify the Doll.

This was Colt M4A1, the leader of the highly-classified AR Team he'd only heard about from Scarecrow.

The former American soldier couldn't believe his luck. Griffin had spent what possibly could have been weeks along with quite a few of their resources looking for this Doll, and she just happens to wind up in his lap.

"Kamalov, keep an eye on that signature." he told his colleague— right before his brief bit of triumph was annihilated by the bandits seeing her and pulling out a cooler-sized jammer with an antenna attacked to it— one look at its markings revealing it as the experimental riot gear the Soviets mentioned. In the heat of the moment and without any actual though put into the long-term consequences of it, he immediately made a choice: fuck the Soviets, because he was not going to allow scummy bandits to defile Griffin's best asset if he had something to do about it, even if it resulted in Soviet casualties.

"All units, open fire! Protect M4A1!" he ordered sharply, lining his Kobra's reticle up with the air slightly above the smuggler at the jammer to account for bullet drop and firing, glad that the wind wasn't blowing as his shot flew through the air and was subjected to gravity, dropping just slightly enough to catch the bastard in the head, splattering the jammer with his blood and brain matter as he toppled to the ground, dead.

That immediately had the desired effect, as his buddies turned their eyes away from M4A1 to see them, a distinct fear settling in their eyes at the sight of the New Soviet Ground Forces.

"O, blyat', eto Sovetskaya Armiya!" one of them yelled, rallying his allies to fight and causing everyone in Ian's team to fire on them.

"Blyat, Griffin engaged the enemy! Vavilov, provide overwatch for us! Gorev, suppressive fire!" Sergeant Gruzinsky yelled in response, raising his fire and opening fire on the hostiles below as his subordinates complied. "Everyone else, push into their territory!"

"Yes, sir!"

"For the Union!"

With the Soviets now rushing in, it made it a bit more difficult for Griffin's operatives to fire at the enemy without hitting a friendly soldier, but they managed, utilizing the covering fire Gorev was providing to take potshots at the enemy, the hostile sniper quickly downed by Vavilov's precise shooting and making it safer for his comrades to proceed.

"Comrade, three more hostiles have emerged from the shelter's eastern entrance to flank you!" Kamalov declared, making Ian look right and switch his fire selector to full-auto, firing the last of his magazine at a trio of insurgents that were rushing the hill and making them take cover in the trees, one being unlucky enough to take a hit to the chest— a curse escaping his lips when he saw that a Ratnik vest on the guy's chest had taken the hit.

"Kalina, cover our right flank!" he called out, causing the woman in question to turn his way and take cover behind the tree next to his, firing at a hostile who poked his head out of cover. "And be careful, they've got body armor!'

Reloading his rifle, he made sure to save his empty magazine when he did so before popping out from cover and firing a burst at an AK-12-wielding smuggler, catching him with a neck-shot and spraying arterial blood onto the tree he was using for cover. Shifting targets, he shot another burst of 5.45 rounds at a hostile who was keeping Kalina pinned down with a PP-19 Bizon, the SMG's high ammo capacity adding to his suppressive abilities, and with the man occupied with keeping Kalina in cover, it was rather easy to line up a headshot on him and kill him, despite the rounds flying towards them from downhill.

Without anyone relentlessly showering her position with lead, the logistics officer immediately flanked the last hostile while he was trying to shoot Ian, putting about six rounds of 5.45 into his underarm, avoiding the SAPI plates in his vest entirely and killing him instantly, some blood getting on her uniform due to the close range.

No longer in danger of immediate injury or death, Ian turned back towards the shelter entrance where only three hostiles were present— just in time to notice that the Soviets had closed the distance and overwhelmed the smugglers, executing them before they could recover from what looked to be a flashbang grenade. In the forest, he could see M4A1 reload her rifle from apparently providing suppressive fire, then cover herself with a cloak she procured from seemingly nowhere.

"Area clear, no friendly casualties so far." Gruzinsky reported over the comms, bringing his thoughts back to the operation at hand. "You're lucky for that, Griffin Commander, so don't act out of line again."

"A high-value Griffin operative, who may have been carrying crucial intel on Sangvis Ferri, was in danger of capture, and I wasn't about to let it happen."

"You do know we could have just grabbed her when we got inside, right?"

That comment made the ex-soldier pause and then groan at himself about the opportunity he'd foolishly wasted.

"Now that you mention it, yeah, I fucked up..."

"Ugh, just get down here, mudak."

"Yes, sir..." he replied with a sigh, looting the bodies on the hill for ammo and equipment, taking note of the fact that one of the men had a prototype AK-12 equipped with a Kobra red dot and a foregrip, as well as an IOP/produced energy shield device. "Oh, can I claim any hostile weapons as spoils of war, or are they still military property?"

"Eh, maybe a couple, although the Colonel says it's fine as long as it older than the war..." Gruzinsky replied uneasily.

I think 2012 suffices, Sergeant.

"Sweet." he said, snagging the items before using a hand signal to rally his men.

Running down the hill, they reached the Soviet soldiers in about twenty seconds, allowing the Sergeant to open the front door to the shelter with a code one of the smugglers had.

"Dobrynin, Gorev, Bazarov, Vavilov, watch our backs." Gruzinsky ordered as the door swung open. "Griffin Commander, take point."

Mustering a chorus of affirmatives, the remaining team members immediately followed the Sergeant inside the shelter, the only light being the dim overhead lights in the staircase as Ian took point as ordered— not lost on the fact that he'd be the first to get shot if things went south.

Communist piece of shit. he muttered in his head, glad he'd looted a Force Shield generator off of the hostiles outside.

"Comrade, be careful where you shoot, as there's some Griffin Dolls down there." Kamalov warned through the comms. "Also, there's at least six hostiles down there, including four in the next tunnel, and they're waiting for you."

"Got it, that fucker Gruzinsky put me up front, because apparently I'm under his command and he's angry that I went ahead and engaged the enemy to save a Griffin asset."

"I smell bullshit, comrade. I'll ask the Colonel about it." Kamalov said frankly.

"Thanks."

Cutting the link, the ex-soldier pulled his heartbeat sensor out and grabbed his shield generator, finger hovering over the activation button as he neared the end of the staircase, and as he neared the bottom and saw a man with a PKP Pecheneg take aim, he immediately pressed the button and pushed forward as the blueish shield encased his body and the PKP let out a thunderous volley of 7.62x54mmR rounds.

When the first round hit, Ian quickly found out that taking hits while protected by a force shield was a very intresting sensation, as while the bullets never punctured him or caused any real pain, the force behind said bullets were still there, and he could certainly feel it as the MG pummeled him, a luckly hit causing him to fall flat on his face— but thankfully directly behind cover as the shield failed.

Taking hold of his AK-74M as he recovered, he quickly pulled the pin on a flashbang grenade and blindly tossed it over the metal crate he was using as cover, waiting for it to go off before popping up from the right side of the crate, opening fire on the hostiles dug in, at which point he realized some of these men had military training as they returned fire and forced him back into cover, shouting military jargon at their allies in rapidly-spoken Russian.

"Kalina, Cheeto, I'm pinned down over here!" he yelled into the comms as the others reached the room— which he now noted was a Doll disassembly room, thanks to the carefully-dissected Doll bodies and bloodred/blackish-purple coolant stains on various operating tables.

"Got it! Kalina, flank that MG!" the ex-Ranger ordered over the comms, taking position and firing on the enemy as Kalina complied, taking advantage of the enemy's focus on the Soviets to get around them.

"Gruzinsky, be careful where you shoot, there's military Dolls here!" Ian yelled to the Sergeant, who was busy suppressing a smuggler hiding behind a military Doll's containment pod, which was bullet-resistant thanks to military standards. Without taking the time to listen to his response, the ex-soldier blindly fired from his cover, a lull in the MG's volley telling him he'd successfully hit the gunner.

With an opening created, he activated his energy shield again and ran left, tossing another flashbang at the other smugglers as he found another cover spot behind another crate, now having a clear view of the hostile behind the Doll pod Gruzinsky was having trouble with.

And as payback for being put up front to be shot dead, he immediately secured the kill with a single burst of well-placed shots.

Reloading his half-empty magazine, he made sure to save it before fetching a fresh mag and rocking it back, flinching on reflex when a round ricocheted off his cover. Looking at the MG emcampment, he was glad to see that Kalina had taken the gunner out, withdrawing a bloody knife from his throat and wiping it off on his uniform before taking the gun for herself, Andrei running up to cover her six.

And given how indifferent she seemed, this operation wasn't the first time she'd killed, Ian thought as he downed a hostile with a pair of bullets to the head, as he remembered freaking out a bit when his first firefight ended and he'd realized he'd actually killed someone.

His thoughts were interrupted by an RDG-5 frag grenade landing in his cover spot, although instead of getting away from it like any sensible person, in a moment of pure idiocy, he turned his energy shield on and mirrored Kalina's move from the previous night by picking it up and throwing it back.

"Did he just throw it back?!" a soldier the Commander ID'd as Vitsin yelled in surprise— and lost his eyebrows behind his helmet when the redirected ordnance exploded, and it only took a look at the ripped-up crates near the furthermost door to see bits of scavenger and vaporized blood coating the boxes and floor. Just afterwards, the PKP's thunderous chorus ended and Kalina yelled "clear!" to the rest of the team.

Thank God for the RDG-5's longer fuse...

"That door leads to another tunnel, but the enemy has dug in to halt your advance." Colonel Antonov reported a moment later. "I'm having the rest of your team breach the eastern entrance to draw the enemy away, but your best option for the tunnel would be to smother it in tear gas, then eliminate them before they can recover."

"Understood, Colonel." Gruzinsky told him, turning the comms off and pointing to the door. "Vitsin, Bolotnikov, get some tear gas in that hall!"

"Yes, sir!" Bolotnikov yelled, loading a tear gas grenade into his GP-30 grenade launcher as Vitsin opened the door— and was forced to jump back as the hostiles in the hall fired on him, a round hitting his nondominant arm and causing him to clutch it to stop the bleeding.

In response Bolotnikov fired his grenade into the hall and the injured Vitsin tossed his gas grenade, soon filling the hall with tear gas and disorienting the smugglers inside. Next up, Cheeto and Andrei ran to the door with greenish objects in hand and pulled their pins, allowing Ian to see that they were M67 Frag Grenades as they threw them in quick succession.

"Granata, lozhis'!"

"Sukin syn!"

"Blyat!"

The two explosions resounded through the hallways, and it was probably well-known now that they were now reduced to paste, but when the Commander pulled his heartbeat sensor out and held it up to see that no hostile signatures were in the tunnel.

Looking back at everyone, he saw Gruzinsky wrapping a bandage around Vitsin's arm, the private grunting when he tightened the cloth and tied it in place.

"That should hold until we're done here." he told him before moving to the tunnel. "Everyone form up! Griffin Commander, take point!"

Joining the rest of the group, he pulled his shield generator out in preparation for a bullet barrage, muttering "you're lucky I have this" to the Sergeant and making him shake his head.

"That's why you're up first," he told him as he traversed the tunnel, seeing multiple bodies in the tunnel, bits of them amputated by his mens' ordnance and more vaporized blood sprayed across the tunnel walls, their barriers ripped up by the additional shrapnel.

Pulling out his heartbeat sensor, he read at least twelve hostiles in the room, and after requesting a scan of the facility, it had revealed yet another dissassembly line, this time bearing even more military merchandise as well as some old Sangvis tech.

"Okay, let's go." the Commander said with finality, going to push the door open— and nearly getting his head taken off by a barrage of plasma bolts.

Shutting the door, he immediately pulled a flashbang out and pulled the pin, tossing the grenade out the door when the enemy fire stopped, waiting for it to flash before running out, turning his shield on as insurance while he took cover at a support beam, hearing not only gruff masculine voices shouting in Russian and Ukrainian, but also softer, more feminine voices that were far too familiar for Ian's liking.

Firing blindly around the cover, he heard the telltale pings of bullet-on-metal, and when he peeked out to fire more accurately at the enemy, he saw why.

While the overall body design had remained similar between generations, the Dolls' forearm and leg armor was much bulkier, and their visors were transparent, along with bulkier weapons and somewhat less prominent curves, but their helmets and hairstyles were unmistakable, as well as the flame-like logo on the weapons.

Fuck, first-gen Sangvis?! he thought as he opened fire on an old Vespid, taking out an eye and putting multiple holes into her torso and left arm but not deterring the war machine in the slightest, a burst of plasma fire forcing him into cover and allowing a Ripper to rush his position— just as his allies joined the fight, Bolotnikov launching a HE grenade at the crowd of Sangvis as Gruzinsky and Vitsin took position behind some crates and opened fire on them, shifting the enemy's attention away from the Commander.

Making use of the lack of suppressive fire, he immediately dumped the rest of his magazine into the first-gen Ripper rushing his position, punching through her armor and destroying her Core, splattering blackish oils across the ground as she fell dead like a marionette with its strings cut.

Reloading his AK-74M, he immediately relocated to a better spot, vaulting over an operating table and kicking a Vespid straight in the face as he landed, stunning her momentarily and allowing him to draw his knife, thrusting it under her armpit to destroy her Core— a practice perfected during his Kiev operations.

Pulling his knife out of the dead Doll, Ian turned left to see a human smuggler try to take advantage of him knifing the Vespid, and without a second thought he drew his pistol and shot him thrice in his unprotected chest, blood seeping out of his body as he died.

Behind him, Kalina was unfortunate enough to end up in CQC combat with one of the ex-military smugglers, desperately trying to stop him from stabbing her with a knife as he slowly overpowered the woman. Her pistol was on the ground next to her feet, meaning he'd knocked it out of her hand before she could shoot him.

Once again, without further thought he brought his rifle up to his shoulder, using his arm as a brace as he lined up and took a shot, missing by a mere inch but giving his second-in-command the chance to turn the tables, sweeping the enemy off his feet with her leg and retrieving her handgun before she put a hole in his head.

"Watch your flank!" someone yelled, and Ian shifted just in time to dodge a knife attack from a smuggler, grabbing his hood and pulling him into his pistol's barrel before firing thrice again, dropping the dead man before relocating to a new position, holstering his pistol as he dropped to his knees and let his momentum carry him behind another support beam.

Pulling a flashbang out, the ex-soldier tossed it at a pair of hacked Sangvis Dolls, blinding them enough so that Vitsin and Sergeant Aloykhin could exterminate them and then popping up to fire at a slightly-damaged Vespid, hitting only half the shots he fired but effectively blinding it with a shot to each eye.

And now that he thought of it, if he replaced the Soviets with American troops, then it'd be just like old times.

"We've got enemy reinforcements!"

Right on-cue, the next door opened and four human combatants ran in, firing suppressive shots and giving Vitsin another wound, this time to his left outer leg.

"Blyat! Vitsin's hit again!" Bolotnikov yelled, firing a grenade in the hostile quad's direction as he grabbed Vitsin, the poor soldier clutching his leg as blood leaked from it.

Thankfully, the grenade killed two of four hostile reinforcements, allowing Andrei to shoot the third with a stolen Sangvis rifle (as in he took his victim's hand with it to keep authorization) and kill him instantly, and Cheeto took a Ripper as a meatshield and used her SMG to kill the last one, then rammed his knife into her Core through her side to dispose of her.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

Knowing he hadn't finished the blinded Vespid off, thd Commander remedied that by firing a seven-round-burst at the first-gen Doll's head and bursting whatever delicate machinery was inside of it.

"Anyone hurt?!" he called out.

"Vitsin again, and Bok's hit..." Bolitnikov replied with a growl.

"Hit, but a plate took the round." Andrei replied, pointing to where the bullet hit.

"Minor concussion, I think..." a bloodstained Kalina muttered, rubbing her head.

"Other than that, we're fine." Cheeto called out.

"Good. Last I checked, there's two different ways to progress from here, so I think we should split up and cover each one." Ian told them, looking at the facility map sent to him on his tacpad. "By the looks of it, the left one leads to what might be where they're keeping the Dolls, and the right one goes to either a storeroom or crew quarters."

"Alright, in that case, you take the left one, Griffin, we'll take right." Gruzinsky told him, rallying his troops to him and heading to the right-side doors where Bolotnikov's grenade impacted.

Finally, I thought I'd never get away from them...

"Everyone, form up!"

As his three troops joined him and he ran to the door, he looked to the door with his heartbeat sensor out and noticed a suspicious lack of signatures— although there could have been automated defenses in the tunnel.

"Okay, single-file line, stay behind me, and be ready for anything." he ordered as he opened the door and ventured into the unknown.

Kalina

No matter what she told herself, Kalina couldn't help but be worried about her Commander, and not just because losing him would cripple Station 794's combat efficiency. Despite only working with him for a week, she had found herself become rather fond of him, and while she was sure it wasn't anything like love, she still enjoyed his presence at the base and would gladly do whatever he told her to.

Still, the danger of losing her new boss/kinda-friend was very real, and with that Gruzinsky bastard literally throwing him into the firing line over and over again, she wanted nothing more than to take that shield generator and take point in his place, even if it meant disobeying her Commander, but unlike a certain Mary Sue protagonist that helped kill a certain Xbox-exclusive franchise, she actually respected the chain of command, even if she didn't like the orders given by it.

AKS-74U in hand, Kalina stood directly behind the Commander with her eyes constantly darting left and right for hostiles or traps, ready to fire on anything that moved.

"They've got an active jammer here." the Commander suddenly noted, and a look at the sensor in his hand revealed static, but also unrecognized signatures that were glitching out erratically. "It's a pretty good bet there's Dolls being kept up ahead."

Nodding in understanding, Kalina noted a lack of light up ahead, as well as another barricaded area with numerous men in it— all wearing a set of NVGs as they aimed for the lights above them.

Fuck!

As the lights were shot out, the ginger immediately tackled her boss to the ground as gunfire erupted throughout the hall, each flash of light momentarily revealing each shooter on both sides.

Firing at them out of annoyance, she was surprised to see a blueish shield erupt in front of her, blocking the enemy off as the Commander fired back, unhindered by the danger of taking hits as he struck an NVG-wearing hostile down. Recovering from her surprise, Kalina returned fire once more and managed to put enough rounds on-target to down an insurgent, a red laser from her companion's rifle dotting another one's head before a bullet hole replaced it, blood spilling from the dead man's head as he fell.

Soon, though, the shield failed and the pair were forced to separate as concentrated fire tore through their last positions, Kalina grabbing the shield module as she rolled away.

Suddenly, a flashbang flew through the air and landed at the hostiles' feet, causing the Griffin operatives to look away from it and cover their eyes as it went off, filling their ears with a horrific ringing but pretty much blinding their enemy.

"Alright, now's our chance!" the Commander yelled, cooking and throwing a frag towards them, giving the enemy no time to toss it back before it detonated, a bright flash erupting within the darkened tunnel and causing Kalina to duck down in case some shrapnel flew her way.

However, no shrapnel escaped the blockaded area, and she turned her helmet-mounted flashlight on and lifted her head to see numerous bloodstains splattered across the end of the tunnel.

"Hang on, we've got a guy left." the Commander said as the ringing in her ears subsided, pulling his rifle out and shifting right a bit as he moved forth— two gunshots and a grunt of pain ringing out a moment later. "Clear."

Reaching the door, the logistics officer scrunched her nose up as the scent of fresh blood wafted up her nostrils, trying her best to ignore the amputated bits of smuggler as well as what remained of their bodies as she prepared to enter the next room. The Commander and Cheeto didn't seem to mind though, getting ready to breach the room with the former ready to open the door, a flashbang in one hand and his heartbeat sensor in the other.

"How many of those did you bring?" she asked, if only to keep the stench of death out of her mind.

"Four or five, this is my last one." he replied, putting the sensor away. "There's seven hostiles, three on the left, four on the right. Stay behind me and shoot anyone I miss."

Nodding in understanding, Kalina took position behind him, one hand on his shoulder as he nodded to Cheeto, then opened the door slightly to toss a flashbang into the room, shutting it before he could be shot by them. After a pop sounded on the other side of the door, he popped the door open and raised his rifle, prompting Kalina to do the same as a man with a knife lunged at him, having apparently been unaffected by the flash part of the flashbang, and earned a pair of 5.45 rounds to his unvested chest for the effort, the ginger switching targets as the Commander shot a pair of hostiles dragging two unconscious Dolls out of some makeshift cells.

She soon aimed at a hostile who was tossing an AK-105 to an ally and fired, catching him with a headshot as Cheeto took the other one out, Andrei coming in after them to take out the last hostiles, who looked to have been fully blinded by the flashbang unlike the other hostiles in the room.

"Clear!"

"Clear!"

Now that the room was clear, Kalina could now fully see the contents of the cages and "cells" in the room: a large mass of unconscious Griffin Dolls with ripped up clothes but minimal damage otherwise sorted by class and Star Rating; the smugglers clearly caring about the state of their merchandise. The military ones, who wore EMR camo and wielded twenty-first century Russian weapons based on their weapon-based patches, were sorted into a separate area and given better quality furnishings— even if the jammers kept them inactive.

"Bozhe moy..." she muttered in horror, seeing what looked to be some sort of inspection area— where a disabled Doll with long blonde hair, dog ears and tail, fair skin, and a curvy frame was stripped down to her underwear and apparently being examined, blood droplets marring her skin from a dead scavenger laying next to her, having been taken out with a headshot by her. Other Dolls were in a similar state— or in even less than just underwear for a couple.

"Kalina, find that jammer and destroy it. Andrei, Cheeto, get the Dolls ready for evac." the Commander ordered calmly.

"Yes, sir." they said, and the ginger immediately set up to find the jammer in question. It wasn't hard to find, as the pillar-shaped jammer was stuck in the center of the room to ensure even coverage for every prisoner in the room, and she pulled the maintenance cover off and immediately raised her subcarbine/submachine gun (ask the Soviets about that classification) and dumped the rest of her magazine into it, causing sparks to erupt profusely from the destroyed device with every shot.

The loss of effects it had on the Dolls weren't immediate, of course, but she knew it worked when the Commander successfully made a call to someone— Colonel Antonov, Commander Kamalov, she didn't know, but as he reported their finds and requested recovery teams, the woman couldn't help but feel anger boiling inside of her at the sight of so many of her colleagues locked in cages, even moreso with the ones under "inspection," and if they weren't done with the operation, she wanted nothing more than to make these men pay for kidnapping those Dolls.

"The Soviets secured their side without casualties and found a bunch of weapons and other Dolls stashed in a storeroom, and Sergeant Bazarov's team secured their part of the facility with similar results, so essentially, the operation was a success." the Commander explained. "Unfortunately, M4A1's signal's gone, according to Kamalov, and he can't get it to reappear."

"Blyat." Kalina cursed, remembering her boss' shouted order to protect a Doll named M4A1, and it finally set in that he had seen the elite AR Team's apparent leader. There was their chance to beat Sangvis to something, and now it was gone.

"However, one of Antonov's men found a communicator in the eastern forests, dropped just where I saw her before I engaged the enemy, and Kamalov got them to give it to us." he assured. "Think we could talk to her with it?"

The ginger looked up, a small bit of hope in her eyes.

"Maybe. Looks like we've still got something over SF, after all."

The Commander chuckled in response, giving his subordinate affectionate headpats through her helmet with a surprisingly soft smile.

"S-stop it, Andrei and Cheeto're still here..." she muttered embarrassedly, cheeks turning red.

"So what? They've seen me give headpats to the others, so what issue is there? Come on, let's wait for the Colonel's reinforcements to get here so we can go home."

Forgetting her momentary embarrassment, the logistics officer sat down while her boss did the same thing, setting his AK-74M down beside him and exhaling. Looking around the toom, she could tell that Andrei was still busy getting Dolls dressed and debugged and that Cheeto was helping him with it, readily taking the Doll repairman's advice as he worked with him. She also saw the dead bodies of the smugglers across the floors, blood pooling beneath them, but unlike at the tunnel, she didn't care about it too much, instead focusing on getting a little rest and laying her head on the Commander's shoulder, the man in question not minding her but instead following suit, his head sitting atop hers as he rested.

And with naught but a smile she slowly fell asleep on the floor of the makeshift prison, on the shoulder of the man who she'd come to view as her favorite officer and closest friend since that fateful night in April.

I was considering adding a scene with M4A1 in it, but seeing as this chapter hit 10k words, it was ultimately unnecessary. Unfortunately, I don't think I can get something posted by Christmas, but I'll try anyways.

About one of the Soviets having an SVD-M, the late Soviet Union/Russian Federation gave at least one guy in each squad an SVD to serve as a designated marksman, as the SV-98 and T-5000 are used for actual sniping work, as opposed to just infantry/designated marksmen. Also, it's hard as hell to come up with original guns or tech for something, so expect to see weapons and tech that look like tech in futuristic FPS games, particularly futuristic-era COD games. The uniforms are based on modern-day ones, though.

Also, I might do a bridge between canon/original content for this chapter, as it's about time to add M4A1 to the active character roster, and I'll be doing a remastered version of Recollection: Beginning's cover to add Becker's new face design to it and improve certain aspects of it. And do y'all think it'd be a good idea to do GFL stuff pertaining to fanfics or game lore on YouTube?

Anyways, I don't know what else to say, so I'll see you next chapter.