Sammy led the patrol today, with Vic. She spoke to him, "... And the PLAN decided had us rolling over through Manchuria before long. Took over small chunks of the Neo-Soviets' territory when they managed to bring about a tank brigade," then smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of her neck, "Next thing I knew, tank round hits me and I'm here with the Amis and Dushman."
"Hell of a wake-up," Vic joked as they walked, "I did mention I went down to Gas, I think."
"Yeah," Sammy sighed deeply, "And Dush and his boys got hit by an RPG-23 that cored their transport. Jim and Hass both died in combat, too..." she shook her head, "It's a fucked-up situation, but we know we've got an 'afterlife' here, anyway. Odd that you fuckers decided to make me the commander of a PMC supported and supplied by Vale's ministry of defense."
"The fact they even have one without having an army is stupid," Victor replied, garnering a snort out of Sammy. He spoke, "The Red Devils got our asses in here, heh," as he recalled the old song, 'Father Makhno'. He then asked her, "Where'd Jim and Hassan go with the Sarge?" as they walked. They'd gone on another job again, this time to another village. Taken the Warhound with them as well.
"Off to another village that heard of us through our employers," Sam shot back, cradling her QBZ.
"Huh," The PKM Gunner shrugged, "Sounds like easy money. What's it this time?"
"Training cadre for the new soldiers. Word of mouth is the village is another Ruski one," She explained, "Soldiers from the Soviet-Afghan War again. We sent a letter to Pavel to ask him if he knows them and he sent a whole ramble back about them. An old BMP-2 command vehicle that he helped resupply during the War's last few months. They apparently went after him, though."
"Must be an old Paradrop regiment's BMP," The Romanian then quipped.
She nodded. In truth, she really wasn't considering what kind of predicament Hass and Jim were in, just thinking partially about the fact that she and Victor were finally kind of chilling alone. Sure, it was a patrol and Paul, Paula and the rest of the staff, minus a couple Romanians, were back at home., but at least she got some time to talk to one of the closest people in the unit to her. She looked at him and asked, "You alright...?"
Victor was dense most of the time. Hints from women seemed to fly right over his head like arrows fired by a half-blind Mongol on a crooked horse, but she did see the glint of understanding in his eyes. He sighed and said, "Sam, I think it's kind of getting tedious to be asked that by every new person," before smiling awkwardly at her, "Thanks for worrying, but..."
"I get it," She nodded, "I'm just saying, if you need someone to talk to, your El-Tee's door is always open," among other amenities, she had wanted to add, but both the manners she was taught by her family and those instilled in her by active military duty and CO School stopped her from saying it. She did want to be by his side, just in case a certain someone never materialized. Still, though, she also wanted to be a good officer to her mix-and-match of weird men and women.
"I appreciate it," He nodded in reply, then told her, "I honestly don't know what the Misfits would've done without ya in KFOR. You and Robert kept us all out of a lot of trouble back then," and he smiled a little, recalling random events. He asked her, "You remember that one time we, me, Jim and Paul, I mean, took the American Sergeant's Humvee for a spin through Petkovic?" only to have Sam immediately burst into laughter next to him.
"You didn't crash it. I think that made sure Sarge didn't treat you all too harshly. Hell, Colbert vouched for you, too," Sam replied jovially. Honestly, they'd gotten up to so much dumb shit back in the day, it was a wonder that Robert didn't outright arrest them, but there were good moments that they could laugh about because of that. Good memories.
"Hey, Lieutenant! Vic!" Ruby waved from the class building entrance. She, like her friends, was donning the standard Beacon uniform of a brown cardigan, white undershirt, red tie and a plaid skirt. The boys, meanwhile, had pants instead of the skirts, thankfully. She walked over to meet them and said, "So, how're ya folks doing today?" to which both noticed she was a bit different. Well, she was still the friendly Ruby, but it felt like she was hiding something.
"We're alright, thanks, Ruby," The Chinese Lieutenant nodded, "And it's just Sam."
"Alright," She chuckled awkwardly, "Say, you folks wanna join us for lunch later?"
Sam and Vic exchanged another pair of looks, then shrugged and nodded, before Sam commented, "Saila's volunteer cook at the mess hall today, so, sure."
Ruby beamed at that, "Awesome! Heh. Well, we gotta go! See you!" before dashing off with the rest of her team. The two soldiers furrowed their brows at her, then continued their patrol. Best not to question whatever that was, just in case. Things wouldn't get any easier if they started questioning their friends at this point, especially not at random. Sure, Vic was still missing the Drive from his go-pro, but...
... Well, team RWBY wasn't exactly going to admit to taking it. Back in team RWBY's dorms, specifically, Weiss had finally managed to adapt the device to their computer. She said to her friend, "Ruby... I swear, if this gets us in trouble with them, I will be angry..." before turning back to the computer with a deadpan and opening the application to view the videos.
Weiss was not an egghead per se, but she did have some skills. Came with sneaking away from the estate from time to time, courtesy of Winter. That and Winter's friends in the military, of course. When she finally sat herself down next to her friends and turned the projector on, she told them, "I also do not really like what we may find in this footage..."
"Relax, Weiss," Yang elbowed her, "How bad can it be?"
When the footage began to play, it wasn't that bad. The first sight was the camera panning around a patrol of Romanian troops, namely, Victor's platoon, as they marched away from the Warhound, their MRAP. They walked amidst the people of a village frozen in time, the elderly and the youthful all clad in peasantry clothing. Leading the formation was a soldier with a white-blue-white horizontal stripe flag on his arm, carrying a modified AK.
The soldiers around them spoke in an odd language, probably Victor's. They addressed each-other by their names, all names that the girls recognized. Diana was at the front with the man in charge, while the staggered column advanced down the village's road, trying to keep themselves guarded and safe. A few other NATO troops were present, one of which the girls soon recognized as the French Army, going by their weapons and the red, white and blue flags on their shoulder emblems.
The leading man and Diana were talking in English. He spoke to her, "This village was home to a few of the fighters that fired at you," as he led the way in. Several men stood in the 'central square' of the village, more-so a dirt area central to the town where there was a large well, with maybe two dozen prisoners of varying ages, tied up and under watch by the UN's Task Group.
Vic commented, "Seems like a few of'em surrendered."
"They didn't want to die for their 'Glorious Second Revolution'," the man replied. Weiss skipped the video past the marching portion and straight to the sight of the Russian man opening a cellar. He told the group, "This is the weapons cache found by my men..." and led Diana and Victor down while everyone else seemed to hold positions upstairs. Entering the cellar of dirt and stone, their eyes fell upon boxes upon boxes labelled with numbers and cyrillic writing.
Vic whistled, kneeling beside one box and stating, "These are all ammo and gun boxes alright," before approaching an open box, pushing the top cover off and retrieving a Kalashnikov that seemed eerily familiar to him. He checked the weapon, its black polymer, plastic and metal body scratched up and dented by shrapnel. Racking the bolt of the empty weapon back and letting it go forward, he felt it click into battery normally, then said, "AK-103. 7,62x39mm."
"There's enough guns here to arm a whole army," Diana spoke, stunned, "Why'd they just give'em up?"
"Surrendering means they don't get much of a say," The Russian officer replied, then told them, "They're all yours to redistribute or destroy as you see fit, NATO. We'll be cleaning up the village..." before slinging his own AK gently over his shoulder. He looked at the two of them and told them, "They seized these weapons off of the 25th Guards' Infantry... Alongside some personal effects."
Vic perked up immediately, turning to face the man. The Russian then rifled through his pockets and pulled out, among other things, a gold necklace with a cross. He told Victor, "We collected these off of some of the dead. No women among them, though, and they said the 25th is heading deeper Eastward, probably to Norilsk," before gently letting the gold cross necklace go into Vic's hands.
Vic nodded in thanks, then said, "Thanks for telling us..."
There was some hope in the girls' thoughts as they kept watching the video, with Yang suddenly feeling a bit less well about her chances. Vicky herself finally stepped into view and smiled, saying something to her brother. He nodded, then stowed the necklace out of view. Weiss skipped the video ahead again, past a series of patrols and some other matters like bomb defusals...
... Only to stop at the worst possible spot.
In an area that could only be described as hell on earth, a cratered hellscape where the burnt husks of vehicles lay and the dead were being placed in rows, the soldier holding the camera panned around. He lifted it to show himself with a sad smile, stating, "Say hello to Russia's children..." in a whisper, before panning back down from his face and the grey sky... To the sight of Victor, crouched beside a tarp from under which blonde hair poked out.
The girls' hearts dropped, watching the young man they knew staring at the corpse, which seemed to be missing something, while he held in one hand her hanging necklace. Standing beside the body, her helmet resting on her chest and stifling tears, Vicky looked on. She swallowed emptily, then looked to the man filming and showed him to cut the feed. Victor, however, told her, "No, sis. Let him film. Let him film all of it," before motioning to the mass grave that now came into focus, "So people get to know what happens. If this film ever gets back home, I want the world to know what one Dictator caused..."
He looked up at the camera, stating, "Keep it rolling, Cocean. This is the price the world has to pay for the abject delusions of one bald mad fuck," before he turned his head. His voice was low, quiet, mourning. He rubbed his eyes, then murmured, "Young people with their lives ahead of them. Didn't even die fighting in the goddamn War, but they died trying to go home..." and he bowed his head now, whimpering out a, "Fuck..."
"I'm sorry, Vic," Vicky's voice replied off-screen, just as quiet and mournful.
"Ateen-hut! Major on deck!" A voice called out. The entire unit straightened up, Vic standing to his feet. The elderly man that had called out, a Romanian officer, said in English, "We know who did this," from right next to Vic. He looked at the man filming and continued, "We know who did this and I want them to know if they find this footage, we're coming for them..." before turning to Victor again, putting a hand on his shoulder. He told him, "A Chechen SOBR unit was spotted in the area, evacuating barrels from a nearby weapons laboratory. The units might've crossed paths and the Chechens being who they are, opened fire. Wiped the leftovers of the 25th out."
"... They did this," Vic's voice seemed to boil for a moment, "We going after them, sir?"
"Yes. Pack your gear, leave the dead to be sorted through and buried by the Republic Army," The Major clapped a hand on Vic's shoulder, then nodded and showed the soldier to cut the feed...
Weiss paused the vid, then swallowed empty, the images of the dead still playing clearly back in her mind. She looked over to the girls, the three seemingly just as stunned by the act of brutality on display. She asked them, "Any more...?" Through a shaky voice, only to get shakes of the head from each of them. She nodded, "Good..." then shut off the viewer and removed the drive.
... No wonder Victor seemed so off when he first landed...
Meanwhile, with Jim and Hass...
As the vehicle trundled down the road to the Village, the boys and their two Romanian aides spoke of the past and future, of history, of fighting and of story ideas. Jim himself was speaking right now, stating, "... And I've been considering slotting in a reference or two here and there, though Imma be honest, homie, I'm not sure if I can do it without it seeming too outta place."
"You've been writing for a while, dude," Hass replied, checking the scope on his XM7 with a few specialized tools and his own Battle Net connection system, making sure it's properly zeroed and that the laser rangefinder was working, "I've seen enough of your fics to know you can slot in the references pretty well. Remember that old fic about the mecha anime I... Forgot about?"
"Oh, yeah... The whole MGSV-like arc for Tibbets, heh," Jim laughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly He smiled and said, "Yeah, I remember. The folks really liked it. Thanks for reminding me," before pausing and remembering they weren't exactly at home for him to write stuff like that.
"I do actually wonder how the locals would take a story like Metal Gear Solid, considering they've got all this magical mumbo-jumbo," Hass then mumbled to himself, peering through the scope and nodding approvingly. He also checked his IVAS system, scanning the treeline via the FLIR Cams installed, before sighing and taking the helmet off and switching the visor offline, too. He ran a hand through his short black hair, then looked to Jim as he drove.
Jim handed him his canteen and said, "Filled it with coffee. It stayed warm," to which the Asian man nodded in thanks, taking the Canteen and uncapping it. He felt the smell of the instant MRE Coffee hit his nostrils and snorted, before downing a hardy swig of it and letting the bitter taste wake his ass up. He hadn't slept properly back home, so the added benefit of warm black coffee kicked in pretty quickly, surprisingly. He put the cap back on the Canteen and placed it on the dash, between himself and Jim.
The moment Jim hit the hard brake and nearly caused Hasan's mouth to kiss the dash with force, however, woke the Malaysian man even further. He looked at Jim with furrowed brows and an open mouth to ask him something, only to hear the tock-tock, tock-tock of horse's hooves. Looking straight ahead, both stunned men saw a woman in her middle age with flowing nutmeg hair and deep blue eyes riding toward them, holding an AK-pattern rifle in one hand and the reins to the black horse she rode in the other. Her telnyk was sleeveless and her pants looked like those of an Afghanka, though torn, worn and patched up. Same for her boots.
She was a beauty herself, wearing a smile as she rode up to them. Despite the age showing in the few strands of grey hair she had, she welcomed the men with a nod while the horse gently got up on its hind legs. She slowly rode up to the window and knocked on it, then leaned over when Jim rolled it down and said, "Privyet, folks. You the Misfits PMC?"
"That'd be us," Hassan said semi-seriously. He looked to see Jim, his mouth agape as he stared at the well-developed female VDV ahead of them. He gave a gentle tap to Jim's chest, which seemed to wake the man up, before he asked, "What's your name?"
"Anna Ignatyeva, tovarisch. Please, follow me," She offered, smiling, before moving ahead of the vehicle on her horse.
"Holy shit," Jim mumbled, then looked to Hass, "Did you see her, man?" to which Hassan sighed deeply, then chuckled and nodded, patting him on the shoulder and showing him to drive. Jim started up the vehicle as the two Romanians behind them let out short laughs, then slowly followed the horse-rider VDV forward. The walls were armored, well-built and made of reinforced concrete. The guns mounted on them and the security detail all wore forest camouflage gear and carried Kalashnikovs, to nobody's surprise.
The town itself resembled something of an old Russian village, but with a lot more population. It must've stretched several kilometers across and abreast, with the houses resembling exactly the old Russian and technically Eastern-European style, colored wood and plaster homes. A generator building lay to the side, also made out of concrete and with a reinforced door and in the middle of the town, an old, rusty, but familiar amphibious vehicle lay under a tarp. A BMP-2 command vehicle of the VDV.