A massive B.P.R.D. cargo plane slices the white eye of a full moon. The aircraft is currently flying over the Black Sea in Russian airspace.
As the plane engines drone, B.P.R.D. agents Lime, Quartz, and Stone stencil a large crate: FRAGILE! LIVE CARGO. Hellboy and Marie stand around a brightly lit work table. Hellboy and Marie look at a medieval illustration of Sammael in a book the latter brought along.
"This engraving here represents Sammy. Text reads: "One falls, two shall arise. Sammael".," Hellboy read.
"You kill one, two come out. You kill two, you get four. You kill four, you're up shit's creek without a paddle," Marie stated. "We need to get 'em and the eggs all at once. It's the only way to make sure they're good and dead."
"When we do: No mumbo-jumbo. Double-core Vulcan-65 grenades," Manning shows them a set of Grenade belts. "We've installed a very handy timer. Set it, walk away. Cable pulls the safety pins, K-boom! Easy to clean, easy to use..."
"Those things never work. Never," Hellboy interrupted.
"Each of us gets a belt," Manning continued.
"I won't take 'em. They never work," The half-demon man stated.
Manning looks at Hellboy annoyingly. The man was vexed by the other because of his difficulty in cooperating.
"I'll carry his," Marie said, taking the belt from Manning. The woman then mutters, "Big baby."
Hellboy wraps Broom's rosary on his wrist as he says, "Girl Scout."
"Shut up," Marie told Hellboy before playfully hitting his shoulder.
Marie was worried about Hellboy. She had been in his shoes before, more than once. And it wasn't pretty. Marie hopes that when the time comes, Hellboy will make the right choice and make Broom proud. And the woman hoped she had made the right decision all those years ago.
After landing and getting set up with land transportation, the group drove to their destination. Hellboy was not too happy with his transportation. Marie would be too if she had to sit in a wooden box for a while.
A gleaming black van and a truck move through snow-covered Soviet countryside roads. They pass Moscow's Volokolamsk fields. Marie sits with Stone in the truck.
Popping her head out of the window, Marie looks back at the truck bed. She then speaks into her radio, "Poppins to Clifford. Repeat: Poppins to Clifford…"
Fastened to the truck bed is the crate labeled LIVE CARGO. Small breathing holes were drilled in the sides. Inside the box is Hellboy, sitting on the floor in the dark.
Marie continues, "We're almost there. We're leaving the main road, and it might be a little bumpy, so hang on."
They hit a series of bumps. The box rattles and shakes. Hellboy bangs his head inside the crate. The vehicle lurches to a halt.
"This better be the place, or I'll puke," Hellboy told Marie through the radio.
The motors are turned off. Everyone gets out of their vehicles and approaches the truck bed. Marie easily opens the crate with her hand. While the others wear weather-appropriate clothes, Marie is dressed in regular clothes.
"Come out and see," Marie said.
Hellboy steps out of the crate and joins the others in front of the main gates connected to broken spiked fences that succumb to rust and dead vines. Endless rows of crypts and tombstones poke through wild foliage. The half-demon man looks up at the gates.
"Sebastian Plackba #16..." Hellboy said.
The group ventures into the city of the dead. Each carries a backpack, a flashlight, and a gun. After stepping into the cemetery, Marie can feel something is off. Usually, after entering a graveyard, the woman would feel at ease since it is hollowed ground. Instead, it was the opposite. Marie can feel the Ghost Rider is restless. The Ghost Rider wants to come out. A great evil presence is near. Marie knows it has to be Rasputin.
Further in the cemetery, the group gathers in frustration in an area of baroque funerary monuments. They have been walking for a while and have not found what they are searching for.
"Forget it. We're never gonna find Rasputin's mausoleum. Now, what we do here is we make up a grid. We go in by quadrants. Maybe satellite photography," Manning told the group.
"Let me ask for directions," Hellboy said, patting Manning's shoulder before walking off.
"What'd he say?" Manning asked Marie.
Not long after Hellboy left the group, Manning began complaining and ranting about the half-demon man and what he does. Marie's patience is wearing thin. She didn't know how long she could go before giving into her urge to struggle Manning.
"This is ridiculous. I run this show, not him. This guy's nothing but trouble," Manning complained before asking, "Anybody got a PowerBar?"
Marie looked at Manning like she wanted to kill him. And she was close to acting on that impulse. The woman didn't know how much of his complaining she could take.
"Hey, there he is," Lime pointed.
The group, except Marie, gawks as Hellboy carries a corpse on his back. He holds the corpse by a noose over his shoulder. With an ear-to-ear grin, Hellboy approaches the group.
"Sixty feet further, comrades," Hellboy spoke with a Russian accent before speaking with his normal voice, "and three rows in..."
"What the hell is that on his back?" Manning wondered in disgust.
"This here is Ivan Klimentovich," Hellboy introduced the corpse on his back. The half-demon man then says to the corpse, "Say "Hi", Ivan."
"Go that way, Red Monkey," Ivan told the half-demon man in Russian, pointing to where they needed to go.
"Gotcha."
Marie smiles to herself. Hellboy leads the group, with Ivan giving him directions. After a few minutes of walking through the maze of mausoleums and graves, the group stands before the mausoleum.
The mausoleum resembles a miniature black marble castle. Marie opens the ancient steel door. Hellboy, still carrying the desiccated abomination on his back, walks in. Two agents stand guard in the mausoleum while the rest of the group descends carefully.