OR2-EP1: Perun Awakens (4)
As the night wore on, the streets became less crowded, and the citizens who had received their food returned to their homes in small groups, preparing for the next difficult period of starvation. This was the norm for them, those born on the eve of the Ice Age most often heard worries about food production when they were children, and the devastation of agriculture and animal husbandry was bad news for all of mankind. The rumors used to be mere verbal complaints until they grew up and famine went from a threat to a reality. No one cared where the first starving person appeared, but as more and more citizens died of starvation, the rest of the civilians who survived developed a sense of panic. People in a state of panic make many incomprehensible mistakes, and those driven by emotion are completely irrational. Chaos first erupted in the backward regions, and then gradually spread, quickly sweeping the whole world, even the developed countries could not escape its influence. In the face of the threat of death, all slogans are irrelevant, and living becomes the only pursuit of most people.
The people of Eastern Ukraine are exhausted. Famine and war are two sharp swords hanging over their heads, ready to fall and remove their heads from their necks. Previously they merely had to endure hunger, now there are missiles and shells that will fall on their heads at some unknown time. Allies ... allies will protect them, many think so, but the allies they have high hopes for don't seem to want to provide them with extra food. United States is a euphemism, even the developed countries don't have any spare food right now, the price of meat in the southern states is said to have risen over 200% compared to the end of the previous year. The Ukrainians believed this for the time being, and they went back to their houses in peace, waiting for the end of the Dark Ages. If a scholar who had survived the catastrophe were to write a book about this era, he would probably compare it to the pre-medieval period.
The streetlights flickered on and off in a cloudy fashion. Three soldiers in white military coats walked through the snow, staggering down the narrow road. The Ukrainians knew these outsiders, and they would bring as much hope as trouble. War was the only way to take the chance of these soldiers getting into trouble away from them, otherwise the restless GIs would still be out in the backcountry looking for a good time and doing some damage in the process.
"This time you can get into trouble ... screw up we will be found."
The three drunken soldiers were still conscious, they knew what they were doing tonight and didn't fall asleep on the streets. The local Ukrainian police had always been too afraid to police them, these lawless guys were beyond the reach of any Ukrainian law, and the price of justice was sometimes more than the passionate idealists could afford.
"I mean, what do you blame me for?" The soldier standing in the center put his arm around each of the other two soldiers' necks, "They probably make more money than we do, bro, and it's not like you don't know that. Why should I pay a guy who has more money than me? I pity them ... who will pity us? We're the poorer bunch of poor people."
"Exactly." The soldier on the right opened his mouth, "Even most of the college students there in our hometown work part time as prostitutes, earning more than most ordinary careers ... Hey, it's not unheard of for those who make more than a million dollars while they're still young. Some people simply drop out of school to do this business full time, which is kind of a big spectacle."
It doesn't seem to be big news that U.S. soldiers go to nightclubs. These young, single soldiers have always wanted a place to vent their frustrations and inner rage, and probably would have done so even if they were in Japan. However, Japan's attitude has toughened up quite a bit lately, which could be bad news for those soldiers who are unruly by nature. Japan has its share of righteous men and madmen, and in the old days there was the judge who was determined not to condemn to death the assassin of Russian Emperor Nicholas II in defense of the dignity of the law, even though he knew full well that the consequence might be to start a war.
"But you should not beat them either!" The soldier on the left was a bit helpless as he and his companion carried the middle soldier on their backs through the snow, most of the stores in front of them were already closed, only a few immodest ones were still open, "Yes, they make good money doing this, more than we make from being born to fight in the wars ... Then it is your problem now. If you do not want to pay, then we talk together, there will always be a solution, the result is that you are a punch to the girl unconscious, in case she dies, we cannot escape easily."
"Don t scare me now, Ukrainian people are just ... sooner or later dead, we can at most squat in prison for six months." The soldier on the right retorted gruffly, "When the officer asks, we will say that the woman has a murder weapon on her body and is a spy for the Russians."
This was a good idea, anyway, the army couldn't find any evidence and wouldn't really run to the nightclub to investigate and collect evidence - in case some of these officers couldn't control themselves, and those in the media would then catch the story, and in the end, the definition of the whole incident in the eyes of the outsiders would go from a murder case to a vulgar scandal. With that in mind, the crowd was in a much happier mood, and they didn't have to worry about being held accountable or sent to prison for the rest of their lives. The trio walked over to a truck down the street, lifted a package off of it, and dug into a nearby alley. Standing in the shadows where the streetlights didn't shine, the trio waited quietly, hoping they wouldn't be spotted by any other acquaintances passing by.
Half an hour later, another soldier in a white military coat appeared at the other end of the alley, he saw the three soldiers standing furtively and opened his mouth to ask:
"What are you guys doing? It's almost the next day, and you're still hiding in a place like this ..."
The two sides argued for a few moments, each arguing their own point of view, and the soldier who arrived late went forward to pick up the parcel and opened it to inspect the goods inside. He took a few steps back in shock, as if he had seen something repulsive, and stretched out his right hand to point at the three comrades in front of him, cursing bitterly.
"Stop it, stop it!" There is always someone who tries to round up the situation in this kind of occasion, "Sergeant, you finish this order with us, everyone will have money to get ..."
The sergeant didn't listen to them and turned his head away. From behind him came the sound of gunfire, and the young sergeant saw red roses emerge from his snow-white army coat and fell down covering his chest. One of the soldiers was raising his pistol at his comrade, and the other two tried to stop it, but the soldier had already caught up with him and fired two more shots at the fallen sergeant before staggering back into his coat.
Looking at their comrade, who had been turned into a corpse, the other two sobered up most of their drinks. Killing people was nothing, the problem was that they had just killed their own superiors, an act that was unlikely to be forgiven under any circumstances. Even if the United States was willing to forgive them for their crimes against the civilians around the compound, intentionally friendly fire was a big crime. One shot would have been enough, but three shots in a row would have been noticed by the civilians around them or by other soldiers who happened to be passing by. The people did not dare to delay, the two soldiers who were slightly awake, immediately dragged away their comrades who were still in the sleepwalking state, and they did not forget to take away the package on the ground before leaving. However, another figure blocked them at the end of the alley, McNeil with a lollipop in his mouth looked at the trio with grim expressions full of surprise.
Tom, carrying a shopping bag, hurried up from behind and grumbled:
"What are you buying lollipops for ..."
"The problem is they don't even sell chocolate. I know chocolate has been getting scarce in the last decade or so, it's not like they've stopped making it." McNeil looked at the three soldiers with the eyes of a criminal, and he could vaguely see a body in the back half of the alley blocked by the bodies of the three men. Whether these three were murderers or not, McNeil couldn't let them waltz out of here. He took another step forward, blocking the men's path.
The three soldiers looked at the new recruit with a lollipop in his mouth in surprise, they felt an unprecedented threat from this soldier who had inexplicably appeared here. This was what their intuition honed on the battlefield told them; the existence of some enemies was a deterrent in itself, and the instincts honed by battle-hardened soldiers could be relied upon more than reason on certain occasions.
"Boy, you better get out of the way-"
McNeil stepped forward quickly and kicked over the frontmost soldier, throwing the pistol he had just drawn. The second soldier was about to draw his gun when McNeil grabbed the collar of his coat, stopped him, and threw him to the back. He tried to get up, only to see a leather boot stomp down right on his face, sending the unlucky soldier screaming in pain. The third soldier, obviously still unconscious, watched McNeil knock over two of his companions, but held out his hand to McNeil:
"Bro, have some more wine ..."
McNeil didn't reply and dryly put the man on the ground and dragged him out of the alley. Tom, who had left his shopping bag behind, anxiously watched over the three soldiers, who had no idea what they had committed, while McNeil was still examining the bodies in the alley. A few minutes later, McNeil dragged the already frosted bodies out, and Tom curiously went up to observe them, surprised to find that the dead man was an NCO in the same unit as them.
"What did they do?" Tom questioned.
"The contents of that package could have been drugs." McNeil speculated, "I'm not sure, but I don't think anyone would carry a package of white powder to such a remote location in the middle of the night to specifically wait for someone ..."
They happened to be passing by after finishing their shopping, who knew they had found a strange murder. Not daring to delay, McNeil sent Tom to search the neighborhood for other soldiers, preferably to find an officer who would be qualified to handle the matter. Tom soon departed, leaving McNeil to watch over the three arrested soldiers. After seeing the behavior of these scum, McNeil was so angry that he was almost dizzy; he couldn't figure out why these soldiers would choose to kill their comrades in the nick of time when the enemy was at large. If it wasn't because they were delirious from drinking too much alcohol, it was probably because they lacked the basic ability to think and make judgments. It was impossible to have a good ending for killing a comrade within the army, and it was even more delusional to try to escape.
"I don't care why you guys did what you did ...," McNeil muttered, "Anyway, I'll make sure you guys get the punishment you deserve."
Ten minutes later, Tom came into view of McNeil with an officer. When McNeil got a good look at the officer's face, he couldn't help but feel embarrassed because it was the same captain he had a previous encounter with. In order to avoid embarrassment, he and Tom had hurriedly fled from each other's view at that time, and now that the two sides were meeting again here, McNeil's face was a little embarrassed. Reluctantly he saluted the other, and afterward explained the scene and pointed out the sergeant's body to the captain.
"You're saying they're suspected of drug trafficking?" The Captain remained expressionless, looking as if he hadn't woken up.
"The evidence is here." McNeil pointed to the package at his feet, "I believe they shot their comrades in order to cover up the incriminating evidence, if you think you need more evidence, we can transport the sergeant's body back for a detailed examination ..."
"I know." The Captain impatiently interrupted McNeil's still unfinished statement, "This matter is left for the higher-ups to investigate, we don't care. I'll report the situation upwards now and get some more men to remove the bodies. They can't stay here, we'll have to move them to the rear for internment."
McNeil was a little disappointed. These men might have escaped the law as a result; he had come across similar cases before. However, the Captain wasn't going to listen to him and took himself out of his cell phone to start a report to his superiors. These cell phones were exclusive to the military, and their only function was communication, making it difficult for outsiders to eavesdrop any useful information from them. After obtaining the chief's permission, the captain told McNeil that the three soldiers suspected of murder should be taken immediately to the nearest airport. Unfortunately, the location of the airfield was not very safe, and with the recent presence of Russian troops around the area, the road was destined to be treacherous.
"Now that you have come across this matter, I am relieved to leave it in your hands." The Captain said to the dazed duo, "You two, one of you take the body back, the other drive the suspects away."
"Sir, there are three of them, in case they sober up-"
"Tie them up after sedation." The Captain said without looking up, "Come on, do you want this to get publicized? Let's get out of here while no one else is around to care about the mess."
Looking at the Captain, who had taken off, McNeil was furious. He had asked Tom to get the other man here so that the officer could deal with these tricky things, and this irresponsible fellow had fled after giving hasty orders, leaving him and Tom, the two new recruits, to clean up the mess. The two men looked at each other, each sighed, and completed the division of labor. Tom was in charge of bringing the bodies back, while McNeil drove to the nearest airport to get the three men to the back of the line for questioning and investigation. He sat in the driver's seat of the truck, thinking complacently that it wasn't that long ago that he was being investigated by the others, and now it was finally his turn to put them on trial.
The young soldier surveyed the vehicle carefully, before realizing an important point: he couldn't drive. To be exact, he couldn't drive this new type of car. McNeil had always considered himself to be up to date with the times, even in the year 2077, and he was largely aware of the latest technology and service offerings in the world, and was adept at using these new products to improve his quality of life. However, he was unfamiliar with the operating system in front of him and had no idea how to start the vehicle. If it weren't for the fact that the buttons on the car were labeled in English next to each other, he was afraid that he would have to sit around and wait for someone else to take over his job.
Michael McNeil fumbled to start the car - he was secretly glad that the designers of this world hadn't removed the steering wheel. The car traveled down one of the city's main roads and soon came to the edge of the city. It was almost midnight by now, and McNeil felt slightly tired as he glanced at the numbers that were closing in on 24:00, deciding that he would consider how to rest once he arrived at the airport. The wilderness was too dangerous for him to trust his safety to external circumstances; fate was only reliable when it was in his own hands.
The road ahead was flooded with snow. McNeil frowned as he stopped the car and stepped forward to scrutinize the road, his inner turmoil intensifying. He didn't know where the highway would lead, perhaps the GPS was accurate, but he wasn't in skilled control of this vehicle and couldn't joke with his life. The soldiers who had been thrown in the car seemed to have come to their senses fully, and they kept making screams of unknown significance, trying to get McNeil to let them out. McNeil ignored the three scums, he jumped into the car briskly and drove onward with a stiff upper lip. But, after only half an hour, he had to stop the car again. Surrounded by a whiteout, McNeil couldn't tell east from west, north from south, and even though the GPS told him the airfield was somewhere to the northwest, he wasn't sure, and wondered if he might inadvertently drive into the enemy's encirclement.
The Russians were nearby, and McNeil sensed their presence. Drones whizzed through the air, a new military operation was underway. McNeil gave up advancing, he saw lights flashing in the dark night, the Russians were coming and there was no escape for anyone. The young soldier jumped out of the car, grabbed his sidearm and made his way to the back of the wagon, opening the door and pulling the three soldiers down. By the faint glow of the headlights, he saw the anger on the faces of the three men. Since these people had no remorse, their lives should end here.
"Call yourselves lucky that the Russians are here." McNeil sneered as he threw the three into the snow, "I'm not interested in taking you all with me to run for your lives, you should meet the God and repent before it's too late, there's no room for you on earth."
He raised his pistol and fired three clean shots, ending the lives of the three soldiers. One of them tried to yell to get the attention of the Russians, but the Russians were too far away to hear any cries for help. McNeil checked the location on the GPS again, left the car behind, and hiked down the highway, trudging through the ice and snow. While the Russians would certainly be afraid of a Finn suddenly talking in the snow, others would be no match for the Russians on the same occasion. McNeil believed this, and he would not recklessly fight these Russian soldiers; his aim was to escape to a safe position, and with the weapons in his hands he could not fight against hordes of Russians.
Whether the battle was justified or not, McNeil had no reservations for the time being. In any case, the Russians would not leave him alone, and he would need to cross the strip of land that might currently be under Russian control to reach that airfield or return to a nearby barracks. The Russians are right there in the Crimea watching, and it's amazing that these naive guys forget that and think that the Russians won't attack from there ... simply dreaming. If recklessness in failing to recognize reality can bury soldiers, caution in the same way is another form of waiting for death. McNeil crept through the snow, and he was almost frozen once again. His training hadn't required him to fight in the snow, and by this time he was regretting a little that he hadn't asked Adalbert Herzog, who had trained in the Alps, for survival lessons.
The Russians appeared nearby and he heard the men whispering. McNeil's whole body tensed as he gripped the rifle in his hand, looking for dead ends in the direction of the enemy's search.
"Please, hurry up and make them go away." McNeil thought, "If this keeps up, I'm going to freeze."
The Russian soldier who had been hovering a short distance in front of him moved away. Relieved, McNeil continued on his way and accidentally fell to the ground, where a dead branch next to him nearly pierced his eye socket. In a cold sweat the soldier struggled to get up and limped on. There were no modern aristocrats here whose brains had been poisoned by chivalry, and he couldn't let the Russians find him. War was brutal, and nobles who didn't care about the lives of their soldiers would only symbolically show their benevolence on certain special occasions out of vanity, whereas soldiers raised by the modern industrial assembly line were never so sycophantic. There was no difference between burying hundreds of thousands of people alive behind their backs and burying hundreds of thousands of people alive in public, except that the nobles were better at hiding it.
Michael McNeil climbed to his feet and walked forward in a half-crouch. He could not return, nor had he any chance of doing so; the Russians had blocked his way back. There was only one way he could successfully escape, and that was to seek assistance at the airport. The Russians weren't necessarily targeting that airport, and perhaps McNeil could get a few hours' buffer and make a successful escape before the Russians realized the danger.
Before he realized how much noise the dead leaves he stepped on would make, Russian soldiers who had heard the rattling surrounded McNeil in the direction he was heading. McNeil stopped all movement and lay motionless in the dead leaves and snow, waiting for these Russians to leave. The Russian soldiers he saw were not using any equipment suspected of being night vision devices, so he didn't have to worry about being directly exposed. In a few minutes the Russian soldiers, who had not found any traces, left, and McNeil, who had escaped from the tiger's jaws, moodily continued along the opposite route toward the airfield.
TBC
Chapter Notes:
Perfect Puritanical army discipline exists only in fantasy.
Magicians have not replaced conventional armies, at least in 2140s.