Chapter 7

The Ghost of Siberia

The American philosopher George Santayana was quoted as saying, "Those who forget history are condemned to repeat it." In Adrien's case, he knew history and was knowingly repeating it.

Here he was, a CIA operative, about to follow a special forces team into the woods, to find another special forces team that was MIA and more than likely, dead. And the woods were probably infested with aliens species that killed said team and would kill them. Like Guatemala all over again.

Boy, he was dumb.

At least he got to have a stiff drink before doing this.

"What's the play, Kat?" Adrien smiled as he took a sip from the glass.

"Like I said, a moment of your time? This way," Katja said, less requesting and more demanding. Adrien nodded, setting down the glass of… something strong, and followed her into the bedroom where she closed the door.

"Look, I'm flattered, but I'm actually trying to work things out with my wife–" Adrien began talking and turning around before a punch hit his jaw. More surprisingly, she hit hard for a somewhat tiny thing. Either she was mad, or she liked it rough.

"Shut up. And never call me Kat again." Katja hissed through clenched teeth.

Oh. Mad, then.

"Damn, ok, ow. Gonna knock my jaw off, and putting a metal plate over it isn't exactly a panty dropper." Adrien rubbed the sore spot, trying to irk and distract her so he could take a moment and consider what he'd just seen.

The fighting stance and style was Krav Maga, used by the Israeli Defense Force. It could turn 80-pound girls into effective hand-to-hand combatants against full size men; though it wasn't foolproof, either.

No way the Russians taught her that.

"Krav Maga. I take it you had extracurricular activity in the Spetsnaz?" Adrien prodded.

"Let's get something straight. We both may be equal rank, but you are in my country and therefore under my command. Got it?" Katja stated, ignoring his observation. To his confusion, she had turned away from him and was looking through the dresser for something. She grabbed an object – a pair of thick gloves, he thought – and tucked them in her pocket.

"Got it." Adrien answered. He actually did want to commandeer her unit, but he didn't want her to know that. So, if she wanted to think she had established her command, so be it.

"The lives of these men matter to me," Katja said, grabbing his sleeve and spinning him around before he could go.

"So do the lives of my men, to me. So, if you don't mind?" Adrien requested in a more serious tone, plucking her fingers off his jacket.

"Ok, let me show you…" she answered, reaching for the map.

Petrov paced back and forth, looking at the closed door nervously every few seconds. Alexei was watching him closely.

"Looking at it will not make it open any faster," Alexei stated. It was clear the brat was relishing in his discomfort.

"I am worried that he is feeding her lies and that she believes him," Petrov snapped at him.

The kid looked at him mischievously, and Petrov just knew he was going to agitate him further somehow.

"We've only heard one groan from the room. Who says there's been any talking?" Alexei posed. Petrov stopped and stared daggers at him.

"What exactly are you implying?" Petrov demanded. "You must be out of your mind."

"My area of expertise is xenology. But my true passion is western pop culture. And all the American media I've cataloged tells me their men are womanizers," Alexei said.

Petrov was sure a vein in his neck stood out, but he stayed silent, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

"Just saying, it's been a stressful few hours," Alexei smiled, looking pleased with himself.

Just then, the two captains decided to emerge from the bedroom. Adrien adjusted his pants as he exited, making Petrov inwardly fume even more, though he knew it shouldn't have.

Adrien rubbed his sore jaw while Katja spoke.

"Ok," she announced, "we're moving out. I want us in two columns running parallel, fairly spaced, but visible to the group in front of you. Any questions?" Her replies were head shakes. "Then let's go. Yahontov, grab the radio. Sooner we find Dagger 2-1, the sooner we get out of here."

As everyone filed out, Petrov stopped in front of Adrien. That name, short and simple, he could remember and pronounce.

"Why do you rub at your jaw?" the lieutenant demanded, clearly having difficulty finding the English words he needed. Seemed worried about something.

"Your commanding officer has a mean right hook," Adrien responded, and watched as the man visibly relaxed. What did he think happened?

"That she does," Petrov agreed proudly before walking away to join his commander. Adrien cocked his head, trying to figure out what just happened. He noticed String Bean – Alexei, was it? – was standing next to him.

"Do you think they're a couple?" he posed. The kid spoke to him; a long string of Russian he didn't understand a word of. When he finished, Adrien spoke.

"Never mind."

The long walk to the woods began uneventfully, save for everyone jumping at the slightest sound – other than Adrien. While he was staying frosty, his nerves were steel at the moment.

That's when String Bean tripped and fell. His glasses went flying off. Adrien watched as he patted his hands around, trying to find them. The other men were laughing at him. "Guess he's one of the popular kids," Adrien thought.

It looked like Katja was about to intervene when Adrien held up his hand. He'd deal with it. Bending down, he grabbed the glasses in one hand and Alexei in another, hoisting him up.

"There you go, Velma," Adrien stated, handing him the glasses. Alexei grinned stupidly.

"Scooby-Doo," he said happily in the most broken English as he wiped the wet spectacles on his uniform.

Adrien didn't think Russians watched American cartoons. Suddenly, he noticed this kid didn't have a weapon, and his plate carrier was bare of any pouches.

Why would he be Spetsnaz and not be armed? He'd have to ask Katja next time she was free.

Behind them, Katja, who had taken the rear position with Petrov, wasn't able to find much amusement in Alexei's tumble. She was too on edge.

Everything was quiet. There were no birds chirping, no little rodents scurrying away through the snow. It was like every living thing on the mountain was hiding and holding its breath.

She didn't like it.

She wouldn't have liked it even if she was unaware the American was actively trying to avoid it.

As she was taking a step, she noticed a peculiar sprinkling of darkness in the snow below her.

"Hold!" she called out, and everyone stopped in their tracks.

Scooping up the snow, Katja used her thumb and forefinger to pick up one of the larger bits of… dirt?

It crumbled apart in her hand.

"What is that stuff?" Petrov asked. He was the only one close enough to see it clearly.

Katja stood and wiped her gloves on her pants. "Ash," she said in English; though why she was humoring Adrien she had no idea. "Wind must've carried it. So there was a forest fire last night, after all."

As Preobrazhensky translated for Yahontov, Alexei puffed out his chest. "Yes, the meteor burst in atmosphere, like the original Tunguska event. It could easily have started a fire."

"What'd the kid say?" Adrien asked.

Katja repeated the statement in English.

"Thought you were a soldier, not… whatever science field studies fires," Adrien muttered.

Alexei tilted his head condescendingly. "Jekaterina, you may tell the American baboon that I know many sciences; xenology just happens to be what I chose to pursue. You may tell him that I have more intellect in a mere blood cell than he has in–"

"Yet he didn't need a fancy microscope or equations to find your glasses; did he, dork?" Zaitsev muttered. "And call her 'Captain Mikhailov' or 'Ma'am'. How many times do you need to be told?"

"Okay, okay, we are moving on. I think if the fire was still going, we'd see or smell the smoke," Katja said irritably, then repeated herself in English.

The line of people began moving again, and briefly the only noises were the crunching of boots and Alexei's huffing and puffing.

"I hate nature!" the scientist unexpectedly shouted, and everyone immediately hushed him.

Adrien tossed a look at Katja over his shoulder, and it was their first communication she didn't need to translate. "What is wrong with this kid?"

"Can we tie him up and leave him here, Captain? No one would ever know but the six of us," Yahontov pleaded, jerking a thumb toward Alexei.

"Yeah, whatever he said," Adrien said, somehow knowing despite the language barrier that the other man was complaining about Alexei. The thumb must've given it away.

"Hey, why is everyone ganging up on me?" whined Alexei.

Wishing she could take Yahontov up on his offer, Katja instead barked out, "Everyone, focus! Those things are still out there somewhere!"

Thankfully, the men settled down and resumed the march. It was nervousness, she knew. But they needed to focus.

After a while, as Katja had been mentally picturing the map in relation to where they were, she suddenly noticed her lieutenant was uncharacteristically quiet. Usually, when working with her, he kept a running chatter.

Maybe he was just following her order to stay alert. Or maybe there was something more going on.

"You good?" Kaja asked him in a near whisper.

"Yes," he said absently, watching their surroundings. She noticed, though, that he flexed his right hand slightly as he readjusted his grip on his gun.

"Your hand still hurts, doesn't it?" she asked.

Petrov's mouth twitched. "It's fine."

"Sure it is, tough guy. Men," Katja thought tiredly. "That reminds me," she said aloud. "I know the acid ruined your gloves, too, and I found these in the dresser before we left." Digging in her pocket, she withdrew a heavy pair of sheepskin gloves. "These should keep your hands warm, and the fleece will be soft on the burns."

He paused. "You grabbed these for me?"

"Yeah, take them. Don't want you getting frostbite." As he retrieved them from her extended hand, she added, "And don't play with any more aliens."

"Noted," he said, sliding the gloves on.

"Also, don't let Alexei steal those. They're probably a lot warmer than the ones we have," Katja added, trying not to shiver as the wind hit her. Too bad she didn't have her fluffy birthday present coat with her.

Wait a second…

She counted the days in her head. The recall, the long train ride, the evacuations, had taken… how many days?

Yes, it was her birthday. How wonderful.

They had arrived at the edge of the forest at last. The trees were plentiful and tightly packed, which would make visibility difficult. Katja didn't like that. She wanted her whole squad within sight of one another.

However, the dense branches also meant the snow wasn't as deep. She wouldn't complain about that.

"Ok, five-minute break, then we go in."

Alexei collapsed into the snow in relief. Ignoring his antics, Katja called, "Captain Pierce?"

Adrien looked at her. "A moment, please?" she requested.

He nodded and swaggered over to her.

"Yes, Captain Mikhailov? Since we are being so formal and all," Adrien joked.

"Anything you want to get off your chest before we go in?" Katja prompted, resting the stock of her rifle against her hip as she pointed it up at the sky. She'd forgotten how heavy the things were to carry around for days on end. She would never have admitted it to the others, but that weight in addition to her full 23 kilos of gear was tiring her quickly. She was glad now Petrov had made her eat, or she might have been out of energy by this point.

"Yes, there is," Adrien said in a serious tone. She waited for him to continue. "Are you related to the famous hockey player Boris Mikhailov? Can you get me an autograph?"

He was so obnoxious. She grimaced in annoyance. "No."

"No, he's not your great-uncle? Or no, you can't, 'cause he wouldn't sign anything for an American?"

Now she was just confused. "I– what?"

"Not what you were looking for?" Adrien smiled his white-toothed American smile.

"Enough. What's wrong with the woods?" she finally asked directly.

"Other than the obvious? You're giving the aliens the advantage in there," Adrien told her. Once more, not a lie… it just wasn't the full truth, either…

She sighed, sitting down on a medium-sized boulder. Adrien, with no consideration for personal space, squished in right beside her. They sat in silence until Adrien seemed to feel the need to break it.

"Did you know humans see in more shades of green than any other color? Why do you think that is?"

"I don't know, Adrien; to help us hunt better?" Katja responded, barely paying attention to what he was saying. She was too busy trying to put space between them without relinquishing her seat.

"Or, is to help us pick out when we are being hunted," Adrien finished. Now he had her attention.

Adrien was playing word games again. Omissions galore. She felt that last question was important somehow, but the reason why eluded her.

He wouldn't tell her why he didn't want to go into the forest, and now the ultimatum had come. Call his bluff or let him call hers.

She didn't want to make another mistake that could potentially cost her men their lives; but even if she knew what Adrien knew, she wasn't about to abandon Dagger 2-1, either.

"Who is Alexei? Like, really? He's not military, that's clear. No weapon or ammo on him," Adrien broke her thoughts. He sounded serious for once, but she scoffed. If he wasn't going to share, neither was she. Toddler logic, but fair.

"The FNG," she answered with hostility, in an acronym he could understand. The message sent was clear to him, and he shut up.

Katja inwardly groaned. Now he wasn't going to tell her anything. Frustration was starting to boil, but she wasn't about to apologize, either.

"Ok, let's move out," Katja ordered, standing. Her gear shifted into position, and her back immediately started complaining.

Everyone began moving into the woods, but she watched as Adrien visibly hesitated at the tree line.

"I said, move out," Katja reiterated to Adrien.

She took a spot in the formation behind the American again. Maybe body language would tell her something.

After a moment, it did. While her men were scanning the forest before them, Adrien's eyes seemed affixed to the treetops.

Katja frowned. What had he said about humans seeing in more shades of green than any other color? Was he worried that the serpents were hiding in the trees? Maybe; didn't really make sense, though. Their little snake friend had been on the ground.

"Maybe we should space out, cover more territory at once," Katja suggested aloud, having absolutely no intention of doing so. The last thing she wanted to do was split up the already tiny team against an unknown threat.

Sure enough, it got the reaction from the American she was looking for. "No!" Adrien stated quietly, but firmly. He had not talked in a hushed voice before. That was it. Katja decided he was going to talk.

"Men, keep ready. We'll be moving again in a few minutes. Adrien, we are going to have a talk. Now," Katja ordered.

"Keep your friggin' voice down!" Adrien demanded as he followed her a short distance away from the men, behind a cluster of trees.

She got up in his space, making herself as tall as possible – which unfortunately was still quite shorter than him. "I made the mistake of not pushing Alexei hard enough, and it cost me the lives of at least three innocent civilians," she hissed, backing him up against a tree trunk. "I am not going that make that mistake with you. Tell me what you know, or we can sit here and wait for whatever it is you're afraid of to come find us. Who knows how long it'll be before Alexei decides to scream about something again?"

Adrien hesitated. "It's classified," he said.

"I can respect that. But right now, we don't withhold information from each other when other people's lives are at stake. If you're worried I'll give it to my government, you have my word. Nothing you tell me, or my men, leaves Siberia."

He looked at her, unconvinced.

"I'm not a liar, Adrien. And I don't go back on my word."

He still didn't say anything, and Katja realized he had no real way of knowing that for sure about a person he'd met hours ago, so she tried another tactic. "Here, I'll go first. You asked about Alexei earlier. He is not military. He's a scientist they stuck with me here to study the aliens. They didn't tell us who he was, or that these creatures were out here, which makes me think everything I told you is highly classified by my government," she offered.

She was trying to comprise with him; maybe he would respond to this method better.

Adrien seemed shocked. "All that, and you let him live? How do you know he isn't a sleeper agent playing a weakling? Then, once he's fully infiltrated your unit, he'll kill you all in your sleep, or something? How do you know you're not a guinea pig for the government to get more specimens?" Adrien asked.

"I don't, and I could say the same about you and your government – despite Alexei claiming you have nothing to do with this," Katja reasoned.

"Ok, that's fair, admittedly." Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I threw the first olive branch Adrien; give me something, here," she pleaded. He looked at her for a long time. Cracks were forming, that much was clear. "We aren't going to survive this day unless we both know what we're up against."

"There… may be… another alien species out here," Adrien finally admitted in sections.

"WHAT?!" Katja yelled. He instantly put his hand over her mouth, which she promptly bit.

"Voice volume!" Adrien hissed, shaking his bitten hand in an attempt to lessen the pain.

"What?!" she asked much more quietly while waving away her men, who had been drawn by her startled shout.

"You asked. There's another alien species out here and no, they don't take prisoners… or at least, male ones," Adrien repeated.

"More aliens? Here? How is that possible?" As though one species wasn't enough to deal with. Why did the second species have to be violent, too? That's what Adrien was suggesting, after all. Why couldn't this other life form just be here to collect rocks, or take pictures or something? Or whatever space people liked to do for recreation that wasn't killing?

Well, she wasn't going to rely on just Adrien for further information. Time to drag in the (mostly self-proclaimed) big brain.

And if she found out Alexei had been hiding this from her, too, so help her…

No. So help him.

Katja held up her finger in a 'one moment' gesture to Adrien. Not that she suspected he'd go anywhere, being as her team was his only option at the moment.

She wound herself around some trees until she saw her men.

"You all right, Captain?" Preobrazhensky asked, tipping his helmet back to look her over. "We heard you scream."

"Yeah, did you notice the lieutenant's shoes or something?" Zaitsev asked wickedly, and Yahontov and Preobrazhensky both snickered. Petrov was alertly staring in the direction where the American was waiting, not even seeming to register the insult.

Alexei, however, looked confused. "What's wrong with the shoes? I think they're cool."

"I'm fine, Preobrazhensky," Katja said, ignoring the banter. "The American is giving me some new information." She stepped over to Alexei and grabbed his wrist. To the rest of them, she said, "I need to borrow this for a second. I'll update you all as soon as I'm finished. Watch your backs over here."

As she dragged Alexei over to Adrien, the boy whined, "But I don't want to talk to the American!"

"Too bad."

They rounded the last tree, and found Adrien right where she'd left him. He was chewing on some sort of jerky.

Swinging Alexei around and giving him a push, Katja said, "All right, Alexei. Let's get talking. You know anything about another alien species?"

Alexei shook his head vigorously. "I was only aware of the of the one. But we are very compartmentalized. It would not surprise me if there were more," he said.

"Which means?"

"I'm not told anything unless they deem it necessary," Alexei said. "Probably just like you."

"Hey now, no talking about me in your native tongue," Adrien scolded with a full mouth.

"Sorry, the xenologist says he doesn't know anything about another alien species," Katja explained.

Stuffing the empty wrapper of his snack into his pack, Adrien's lips tightened. "What happened to 'What happens in Siberia, stays in Siberia'?" he asked, clearly feeling betrayed.

"This discussion needs to be in front of everyone. You have my word, nothing comes back to my government," Katja assured. Adrien sighed, but nodded.

Alexei poked Katja's side. "Ask him if he has any more food. I am ready for lunch."

She slapped his hand. "Don't touch me." Then, in English, she said, "Let's head back and explain all this to the others."

Once in front of everyone, Katja spoke. Her breath frosted in the air. It was getting colder, not warmer – not a good sign for their mission. "Our American friend has some information to share. I want you to give him your undivided attention. Alexei, please translate for those who don't speak English. Captain?" Katja invited.

Adrien barely paused. Maybe he preferred the band-aid method. "There is another alien species out there. More than likely in these very woods with us."

There was a collective groan. Not because they didn't believe him, but because things were getting worse.

"We don't have a name for them, but they're a sentient race similar to us, and they have most likely been coming here since the dawn of man."

Katja pondered that. The aliens must have been very good at hiding, if they had been nearly unreported throughout mankind's history. Adrien had also tripped up in a big way revealing that kind of information. Better to just let it go for now if he was willing to divulge.

"Coming here… For what purpose?" Petrov asked.

"They come here to trophy hunt," Adrien stated.

"Trophy hunt what?" Preobrazhensky pressed.

"Us. Humans. Specifically, our skulls and spines," Adrien answered. Katja felt a chill go down her back, and another collective groan resounded.

"But they also love to hunt the other things, the serpents. Even more than us," he added, trying to be positive in light of the bad news.

"Why do you have reason to believe they are here in the forest?" Katja asked.

"Because I encountered one last night, and I know they prefer ambush attacks from high places. Like the trees in a forest," Adrien answered, with another glance upward.

"So, if you know what they look like, what are we looking for?" Katja reasoned. That was going to be a tough question, she could tell by his face.

"Roughly. They are bipedal and humanoid looking, between seven and nine feet tall. Reptilian-like skin, often with a pattern."

"Ask him if they look like Trandoshans!" Alexei said excitedly. Since Katja had no idea what a Trandoshan was, she figured it wasn't relevant, and ignored him as Adrien continued his description.

"Tentacle-looking appendages coming out their heads, like hair. But none of that really matters," the American concluded.

"Why would that not matter? Intel like that is critical," Petrov snorted.

"Because you'll never see one coming anyway." Silence. They were waiting for him to elaborate. "They have some kind of light-bending technology. In simple terms, they can turn invisible."

"Ghost of Siberia," Yahontov said aloud.

So that's why Adrien assumed Dagger 2-1 were all dead, and why he didn't want to come into the forest. They were now on its turf and in its element. That question about seeing in shades of green was starting to make sense. He had been hinting at this the whole time.

"How many are we dealing with?" Katja asked grimly. Invisible creatures that hunted humans for sport were definitely a problem.

"One that I know of, but they are known to do this in groups. Especially when the serpents are involved. So, I really don't know, honestly; and I'm not sure it matters because one is more than we can handle anyway," Adrien spoke.

"But we have an upper hand. We know it's here now, and we quite possibly outnumber it," Petrov reasoned.

"You think so? Knowledge is not going to save us, nor are our numbers. A single one of these guys has taken out entire military uniforms much larger and better equipped than ours," Adrien responded.

She could tell her men were getting anxious. "Ok, that's enough. I'm going to confer with Adrien, and we are going to make a plan," Katja said, hoping the promise of a solution would keep her men calm.

They both stepped off to the side, just far enough away that the others couldn't hear.

"So, we are pretty much left with choosing how to die?" Katja summarized. Her lips felt very dry. Strangely enough she wasn't really afraid for herself. Her neighbor was kind and wouldn't throw her cat Mishka out on the streets, and…

Well, Mishka was really the only living being who would be affected by her death. Her two living brothers had left home to start their own families before she was born, and were little more than strangers to her. Her mother would be relieved she was gone, and her father – well, Karik's death had hit him much more than hers ever could.

Her men, though – they had families who needed them. Parents, wives, children. They were different.
"Pretty much, yeah," Adrien answered, putting his hands on his hips, and looking at the ground.

"You could've told me this before we came out here," Katja sighed.

"Since we're being honest, how 'bout you tell me the truth – Would that have stopped you if I did?" Adrien shot back.

Honesty. Ha.

Katja, in fact, knew that Adrien was not being totally honest with her. There was no way that a lowly captain in the marines would have been given this much classified information. Their militaries weren't that different. Or at least, not without a reason.

Still, she had told him she wouldn't lie. "No, I suppose not," Katja admitted.

"Well, we've been tromping around out here for some time, and nothing has happened so far. Maybe the hunter isn't home?" Adrien reasoned.

"And it's been dead quiet since morning broke. Perhaps the creatures bed down during the day," Katja continued.

"Good enough for me."

"Me, too."

A noise suddenly caught their attention. Petrov was sprinting up to them, ducking under some low branches.

"Captain!"

"Yes?" Katja and Adrien both spoke at the same time, to which she glared at the American.

"There's something you have to see," Petrov finished.

Not wasting another moment, the two captains followed him to a nearby riverbank where the other men were waiting.

"That's something you don't see everyday…" Adrien trailed off.

They were looking at a crashed helicopter in the middle of the river, turned on its side, rotors twisted macabrely around itself like a cage.

"For once, we agree on something, American." Petrov stated.

"Not the helicopter, your shoes. What the hell are you wearing? Chrome spinners for feet?" Adrien clarified.

Katja had to stifle laughter at that one. The shoes were visually painful, and as predicted, everyone was pointing it out.

"That's not going away anytime soon," Petrov muttered to himself in Russian.

"Looks like one of the civilian evacuation helicopters," Preobrazhensky observed.

Katja stiffened. Her first instinct was to charge in and check for survivors, cold water or not.

"If I had to guess, it flew too low to the trees and something jumped onto it. Look at the tree it dragged down with it," Zaitsev offered, pacing down the river's edge to where the fallen tree was lying. She was proud of the observation, though.

"Ok, ok. Before we all get wet and cold. I recommend just one of us go across using the tree and check for survivors. And it should be the American," Petrov said with a hard stare at Adrien.

"Me? Why me?" Adrien demanded.

"You were sent to help, so go help," Petrov reasoned simply.

Adrien stared blankly – probably wondering just where in life he went wrong, if Katja had to guess.

"Fine," Adrien agreed. Katja watched as the marine climbed onto the fallen tree and began balance-walking out to the crashed bird. She really hoped nobody was onboard, but more than likely, the pilots at least would be. She prayed to God no civilians were in there.

It took a little time, but Adrien finally made it. She watched as he went to the cockpit and assessed the damage, wobbling a little on the frame. "Both pilots are dead. Checking the troop hold," Adrien told them as quietly as possible from the wreckage.

Next, he stuck his head through a porthole with a very small flashlight in his mouth. It was a nerve-wracking few seconds while he looked for civilians. Katja suddenly really wished she been the one to go.

"No civies. Not even luggage to indicate civies. If I had to guess, this bird was coming, not going," Adrien advised.

"What did he say?" Yahontov asked anxiously.

"Alexei, you have literally one job. Translate for Yahontov. Will you start doing it?" Katja requested irritably.

"Three uni degrees, and I'm being used as a translator," Alexei grumbled.

"Would you rather be used as bait for our alien pals?" Petrov asked tersely.

"Fine, I'll do it."

Katja barely heard the bickering, simply relieved Adrien couldn't find civilians. The pilots certainly didn't deserve their death, and were brave to come for the civilians in the middle of all this. Still, it was easier to stomach than a helicopter full of dead men, women, and children.

That's when a loud snap drew her from her thoughts. The tree Adrien had used as a bridge had finally given way and broke.

It was now floating away down river. Even from here, Katja could hear Adrien shouting 'forbidden words', as her brother Karik had called them in her childhood.

"Now what?" Adrien questioned to the people on shore, from his perch on the chopper. Katja had to smile. He was going to be miserable when he got out of the water.

"Preobrazhensky, get a fire going. We're going to have a cold, soggy American to dry out," Katja ordered.

"Yes, Ma'am," Preobrazhensky chuckled. Thankfully, the water wasn't even waist deep, nor rushing powerfully.

"Looks like you're gonna have to get your feet wet, marine. It's nothing like a Miami beach," Katja called out. She even felt a rare smile on her face.

"Good thing I'm from Minnesota. Land of ten-thousand freezing lakes year-round," Adrien shot back.

Already he was regretting his boast about being from Minnesota. Norwegian or not, having participated in the polar plunge annually at home or not, this was going to be a cold endeavor.

Adrien took a few steps back to the very edge of the copter, before running and jumping as far as he could toward the riverbank.

"Oh, that's cold!" he declared as soon as the ice water hit him. Little did he know the danger he had just put himself in.

Like blood in the water attracting sharks, Adrien splashing into the river just alerted the parasite to his presence.

"How's the water?" Katja laughed from the bank.

This was extremely satisfying to watch.

"Jump in and find out, Miss Spetsnaz. Hope you packed your bikini," Adrien shot back between clenched teeth.

At this moment, the comment didn't even bother her; though Petrov looked peeved. No, she thought it was funny. Adrien was cold, wet, and likely miserable; and nothing he said would ruin that.

That's when Katja noticed splashing all around the river, and it was closing in on Adrien. Fast. "Adrien, don't panic, but pick up the pace," Katja told him.

"Very funny."

"I'm serious," she said urgently.

"When you say it like that, it makes me want to panic," Adrien stated, daring a look over his shoulder.

All her men grabbed their weapons and aimed at the approaching – and likely alien – contacts.

"Hold fire! You might hit Adrien!" Katja ordered, but aimed her own rifle toward the hostile contacts.

"You guys aren't filling me with a lot of confidence," Adrien said nervously. He was twenty meters away now.

"Adrien, hurry!" Katja called. Ten meters.

"Orders ma'am?!" Zaitsev asked with rising panic. He didn't get an answer as Katja yelled out.

"Adrien!"

She watched helplessly as he spun around and fired two rounds into one of the parasitic impregnating spiders Alexei had described.

Still retreating, but now facing the spiders, Adrien switched targets and fired at the next closest one.

Katja knew she had to do something, but shooting at the water wasn't as safe as one would think. Bullets didn't always slow and stop; they often skipped off the surface and kept traveling.

"Open fire, semi-auto! Only shoot at what you can safely hit!" Katja ordered. Alexei held his hands over his ears in preparation for the gunfire.

To their credit, her men did not perform mag dumps. Instead, she heard scattered fire, and the water sprays suggested they were shooting at the targets farthest away from the American, leaving him to deal with the closer targets.

She didn't know him that well, and he had been less than trustworthy. But Katja would be damned before she let someone else die.

Vai'dqouulth was ripping the last of the raw flesh from the horned animal he had caught. The sustenance was enough to keep him going a few days if he literally consumed every part of the beast minus the bones; though he was sucking the marrow from that too. Well, more like scraping it out with his mandibles.

With his wounds tended to and a belly full of food, he was preparing to get back to the cleansing and the hunt for electronic parts when sharp sounds ripped through the air. Human weapons firing.

Who was left out here? There were the warriors from last night, but as he'd seen not long ago, they had split up. This sounded like several humans.

Not having a clear direction at the moment anyway, Vai'dqouulth decided to investigate. Maybe they had some parts for his gauntlet, or maybe he could shadow them and see if they baited the hard meats out; though it sounded like they already had.

Satisfied with that plan, Vai'dqouulth cloaked and made for the fight.

Sort of a mini retelling of the first act of the original Predator with a special forces team finding a downed helicopter

This also isn't the first time spetsnaz has appeared in the Predator franchise. Briefly they can be seen in the Guerrilla camp of the first movie and in Predators

Integrating US Marines is obviously a nod to the Colonial Marines of the Aliens franchise