Losing Masks

by Nicholas Metelsky

  “Take three fighters and check the neighborhood. It's unlikely that you will find anyone, but if you do, take them alive.”

  There were no more people left here, that was for sure, but I didn’t need any accidents. Checking the neighborhood was part of the plan, but now I really wanted them to find someone. The fact was that at twelve, two and four in the morning the guard sent a report, saying that everything was quiet, everything was calm. The problem was that the reports were made via video communication, so we couldn’t just pretend to be the local security guard. Now it was half past one, and we had thirty minutes before the next report. Plus an hour for the inspectors to get here. I had not yet planned to destroy all the forces of the local boss at once. Damn, had I known the outcome, I would have led the storming of the southern building myself. That's where the reports came from, and therefore, those who sent them were located there.

  “Well, Daddy-Rabbit...” I muttered softly. “Koschey to Wild Rabbit, do you copy?”

  “Copy.”

  “Change of plan. We haven't taken a hostage, so you stay with your group. Do you copy?”

  “Copy. I'm going back to the base. Should we remove people from the northwestern direction and send them to Legless? I doubt anyone will come out of there. Do you copy?”

  He's right. The more people Taro has, the sooner we can finish with the trophies, which means that we'll get out of here more quickly.

  “Message received. Do it. Over. Koschey to Rabbit-one. Do you copy?”

  “Rabbit-one here. Do you copy?”

  “Move to point B. You watch the northwest. Do you copy?”

  “Copy that.”

  “Do it. Over.”

  God forbid something bad happens. I'll make Daddy-Rabbit Mama-Rabbit.

  When I approached the two-story office building, Kuroda was already waiting for me there. A couple of fighters from his group stood a little to the side while he was saying something into his walkie-talkie that was attached to his shoulder.

  “Boss, I...”

  “Don't even remind me. Taro is on his way. Your people will go with him.”

  “Got it,” he replied.

  “In fact, you are to be under his command from now on. I hope you manage to find the containers and load them into our vehicles. Because I'm not leaving here without silver.”

  “Got it,” with the same dispirited notes in his response.

  The contraband of silver was exactly what we came here for. The problem was that Bat, who was the local boss, considered secrecy to be the best defense, not the number of fighters. So we didn't really know where exactly and what containers we had to look for. More precisely, we knew two dozen supposed numbers of containers but had no idea which ones were the ones we needed. And then we needed to load it all up. I really hoped they would be on pallets. That would simplify everything: we could just bring the bobcat and fill it up. Otherwise, we'd have to do it manually.

  Okay, we'll see. Where is this legless one already?

  Seven minutes later Taro drove up to us. Watching three Isuzu trucks moving towards us and waiting for them to stop, I headed towards them. My personal “jack-of-all-trades” got out from the vehicle nearest me and walked towards me after looking over his shoulder. At that moment, our fighters started jumping out of the trucks. Suzuki Mamoru—Taro's friend, who was the contractor on my base, got out of the cab of the second car. Nemoto had personally asked for him, assuring me that this was a good opportunity to involve him in our affairs. This chronic car crasher believed that the case was not so secret, and I thought it would be a good test for Suzuki. Technically, I agreed, but my test would not end at just one observation.

  “The plan has changed a little,” I said as he approached me. “You have half the time, but I'll give you more people. Talk to Kuroda, and he will take care of it.”

  “It's going to be fine, boss, don't worry. Where are you heading now?”

  “Going to Svyatov. We'll cover you if needed. All right, I'm gonna go,” having taken a couple of steps to walk away, I turned around. “And, Taro, don't think about the white monkey.”

  “What?

  “Simply don't think about it.”

  “Umm... okay. As you say, boss.

  Don't think about it. These words mean nothing. I just really wanted to play a trick on him. Taro is perfect to play tricks on. I'm sure he'll be thinking all night about what I meant.

  I went to Svyatov after gathering all the fighters of his group. The Wild Rabbit took a position half a mile away from the port, in the direction of where we thought the check and reinforcement person was likely to arrive. The position itself wasn’t one hundred percent perfect, but from there, it was literally a five minute run to the second ambush site, pre-equipped on a different, less promising direction.

  There was a seven-foot tall concrete fence on the right side of the road, where I was running at the moment. There was a railway track with a low platform on the left. Every fourteen feet along the road, three-and-a-half-foot tall concrete curbs were driven into the ground, marking the border of the pedestrian path. Also, there was a whole pile of concrete slabs dropped here for an unknown reason. In general, there were lots of places to hide.

  I found Svyatov sitting on one of the curbs, on the platform side. When I approached him, he was looking at the map of the city, studying the current location.

  “It's not the best place for an ambush, no matter which way you look at it,” he said, noticing me.

  “We play with whatever we've got,” I replied.

  “The fact of the matter is that there is a better place,” he said.

  “That has other disadvantages. Don't grumble. It'll be fine,” I said, looking around the area. “It’s not all that bad.”

  “I was the one who said that. Who is the Veteran here, and who is the newcomer, after all?”

  “What forces do you think Bat will send here?” I ignored his question.

  He shook his head.

  “If your girlfriend was right about the number of his forces, then he'll send a Veteran and a dozen Warriors. He is unlikely to send all his forces here.”

  “If Akemi was right,” I glanced at him, “then Bat has only about a dozen Warriors left. And I doubt that they are all gathered in the squad team.”

  “Well, then he'll send a couple of Veterans and a couple dozen of ordinary soldiers.”

  That was more likely.

  “By the way, Alexei, when it all starts... if it starts, stay away from the battle. Your job is to give commands, that’s all.”

  “What? Two Veterans against our boys? Are you kidding me?”

  “For one thing, you cannot protect them forever. Then, they are all Warriors. At the end of the day, this is one of the objectives for today's action plan. If we run into some serious trouble, you can lend a hand. But not before,” crunching my neck, I added, “I repeat, everything will be fine. Have they been taught anything? Yes. Do they have good ammunition? Yes. Not to mention their excellent commanders. These Veterans aren't such terrible beasts, you'll see, our baby rabbits can handle them.”

  “Are you now trying to calm me down? Hehe, how have I stooped so low—an underage is pacifying me,” he laughed softly, shaking his head.

  Mm-yeah, I bet it looks really funny. But he needs it right now. He hasn't been responsible for anyone for a while. It's been too long since he had a boss who needed to be protective.

  “Well, I have the right. When was the last time you took down a Veteran?” I decided to open up a little.

  “Umm...” He was surprised by my question. “A year ago.”

  That was even longer than I expected.

  “About a month ago for me.”

  “Uh...” Svyatov blanked out. “You… Ahem.”

  “I'm telling you, they are not such terrible beasts. Especially with you leading the fight.”

  “Well, yes... That kind of makes sense. But you still take care of yourself, okay?”

  “Alexei, I'm here jus
t because we don't have enough sergeants. Do you think I'm going to rush towards shooting soldiers?”

  “You could have stayed at the base in that case,” he remarked.

  “Yes, I could have. But I'm stronger than Tanaka.”

  “This is... a very controversial statement.”

  “It's not even a statement, Svyatov. It's a freaking fact.”

  To this, Svyatov was silent for four whole seconds.

  “Egotism is sure death in our business,” he finally said.

  “I'll tell you this once, and only once. I never exaggerate my accomplishments. Unless, of course, I'm joking. But does it look like I'm joking now?” After pausing for a few moments, I finished, “Someday, Alexei, I'll show you what I'm capable of.”

  “Why hide your power at all?” Svyatov asked.

  Oh, I'm walking on the edge.

  “You'll find out. Later. Alexei, if I hide something, then it is necessary.”

  I hope he understood the hint.

  “Um… Okay, that's fine,” said the man and pulled his hand to his chin.” As you say, you're the boss.”

  After about an hour, Taro contacted me. I don't know what he was doing there, but he sounded tired.

  “We found it, boss. A whole container of silver ingots. Nakata wasn’t lying. Although, personally, I have no idea where the local boss could have gotten it all from.”

  “It's not just his. But, it doesn't matter, we will soon get tough with the rest of the owners, so there will be nobody to ask. Are the ingots on pallets?”

  “Yes, thank God. Half an hour should be enough to reload them.”

  “Great, do it. Don't forget about other containers.”

  “We won't, boss. We aren't stopping for a second.”

  “Over an out.”

  I wanted to tell him to hurry up, but then decided it'd be inappropriate. He must already be doing his best there.

  “Well done, Legless. Moving in the right direction.”

  The next container was found by Suzuki half an hour later, which Taro joyfully reported. The blond fella was worried about his friend. Almost immediately his voice changed dramatically, and I was informed that the ingots were stacked in a container without pallets. Bad news. Worse still, the container itself was in a place where the truck could not get close to it. Now, we had to line up the fighters and throw the ingots by hand. We would unload this container in any case, but whether there would be time for the third one was still up in the air.

  “Rabbit-two to Koschey: I'm observing some movement. A minibus of about thirty seats, and you will see it in five minutes. Do you copy?”

  “Koschey to Rabbit-two: copy that.”

  “Rabbit-two to Koschey: over and out.”

  “Well, Alexei, it's begun. In about five minutes, you’ll see a thirty-seat minibus here. So come on, command. I'll watch and see whether or not you've lost any dexterity,” I grinned at the end.

  Having received a smirk in response, I watched Svyatov give out commands clearly and without fuss. The commands were directed mainly to my group because his group was pumped up for a long time. There was not much moving around because people had already been placed in position a while ago. Now those fighters who were sitting down just got to their feet, or rather squatted, because they were not supposed to stand up. There was a final ammunition check, some attempts to get the blood going by squatting and twisting limbs, and at last, all of them froze, waiting for the visitors to approach. I should rather say the owners. I only had to do one thing: warn Taro not to chicken out but continue to work at the same pace.

  “Let me remind you, Alexei, you are now the commander of the detachment and nothing more. You will use your ‘Master’ tricks only if there is danger of missing the Veterans.”

  “What if...”

  “With our balance of forces and their quality, there should not be losses. Fine, if there are losses, they should be relatively small. And if anything goes wrong, you will act only after my command. Don't forget that we are here to whip our baby rabbits into shape.”

  After a couple of seconds of silence, I got his reply.

  “Got it.”

  I finally heard the approaching car. A few moments later, Svyatov gave a short command on the radio, after which one of our fighters rose up on the roof of a one-story building that stood next to the road. He was hiding behind a small curb bordering the roof. Baby Rabbit-fifteen, if I'm not mistaken, had just the basic RPG-7 on his shoulder. He fired it half a second later. Blast, explosion, flash, shockwave, flying doors and other parts of the car. There was one word for it: cool. The high-explosive charge doesn’t leave a chance to survive, so there was very little left of the car. And Svyatov was so scared. Of what? But now there was a chance that someone would call the police, although here in the port area, police weren’t that common. I'll even say more, after the call, it would take half an hour for the police to get here.

  “Baby Rabbit-nineteen to Wild Rabbit: I see movement. It looks like one of the bodies has started moving. Do you copy?” I heard on the common channel.

  “Rabbit-seven to Wild Rabbit: one of the bodies shows signs of life.”

  In fact, Seven was on the other side of the road. He and a couple of other fighters were hiding behind a stone booth, controlling the road along the fence.

  “What the hell?” I turned to Svyatov. “Alexei, what the hell? How did they manage to survive?”

  “Veterans.”

  “Even if they were Masters! It's a high-explosive cartridge, one hundred and five millimeter caliber! What the hell is going on?”

  “Take it easy, boss, we'll get him.”

  “I'm not worried about that, Alexei. I'm just surprised to no end. How is that possible?”

  “We'll find out now. All units within range: fire at the surviving enemies.”

  Immediately, on both sides, there were frequent shots from the Nail. Short bursts were coming from the direction of Seven, while it sounded like ammunition was being spent at a much greater speed from the direction of Nineteen.

  “Short bursts, dummies! I'll make you freaking rot at the polygon,” Svyatov growled.

  From our side— we sat behind another pile of concrete slabs right at the bend of the road—we had not seen a single survivor-Veteran. But there were only three of our fighters opposite the survivor by Baby Rabbit-seven so our choice was in their favor. My choice, to be exact.

  “I'll help Seven, and you figure out what to do with the one on the left. Ok?” I patted Svyatov on the shoulder.

  The fact that he did not respond immediately told me that he was not happy with this arrangement. He didn’t want to let me go. But it made sense not to interfere, being a Master, so he almost immediately gave the go-ahead.

  “Just don't stick your head out,” he said, running away.

  I did not intend to. As I was telling him just that, some object went flying in the direction of Baby Rabbit-seven. I really did not have time to think about what it was, but I immediately understood that it had something to do with lightning.

  “God damn it!” I couldn’t resist cursing. “And why are you just sitting around?” I turned to the two fighters that were with me.

  After the explosion, one of them dropped down to his knee, and the second landed on his butt.

  “Get ready.”

  Only half of the stone booth was left. The part in which the strange thing had fallen looked like it had exploded from the inside, irrigating the neighborhood with fragments of bricks. Looking out of my hiding place, I noted that the Veteran could not be seen anywhere because my view was blocked by the smoking car. The cacophony of shots in the direction where Svyatov had run away was diluted by a couple of barely audible explosions from a grenade launcher.

  “You,” I said to the guy who had been sitting on his butt not long ago, “go to our guys, and you,” I said, moving my finger to the other “go further to the curbs. I'll go first. Ready...”

  “Baby Rabbit-seven to Koschey,” I wondered
why it was for me and not Svyatov, since he was the one in control of the operation. “No losses, we continue to fire.”

  As soon as he said that, there were shots heard from that side.

  Actually, it's good that they reported to me. In general, this Baby Rabbit-seven is a good fellow—he survived, examined the soldiers, and reported. Many would be completely lost after such a racket. Should I give him a sergeant's post for a probationary period?

  “Get ready. Quick. Move forward,” I gave my command.

  Ducking and aiming the gun at the spot where the Veteran allegedly was, I broke forward. Our guys were about sixty-five feet away. In fifteen feet I finally saw the Veteran. He was standing upright, hidden from Svyatov's group by the smoke coming from the burning car. He wasn't just standing there but was setting up some equipment. It looked like a few plasmoids in a ball of lightning, which, in turn, hung between his palms at the belt.

  Focus. The world slowed down, giving me time to take aim. Fire. A forty millimeter grenade crashed into the chest of the Veteran, blowing up and tipping him on his back. But even before he came into contact with the ground, the equipment that he didn’t have time to release exploded in his hands. If it hadn’t been for the light filters in the helmet, I'd have been blinking for a few seconds, as the flash was quite strong and unexpected. I did not foresee that. Stopping abruptly and turning to face the defeated enemy, I started to slowly move in his direction, releasing short bursts of fire. Noting the movement behind me, I glanced at my guys. Having reached the intended goals, they were covering me. Seven with his guys started shooting at the fallen Veteran right after the flash. They fired desperately, not really caring about the consumption of ammunition.

  “Short, idiots, short. Five, release the grenade-launcher.”

  Boom. The ammunition crashed into the back of the man trying to get up. I would definitely give him a better post.

  “Follow me, slowly. Nine, along the road,” I shouted, changing the cartridge.

  At the same time, I was charging the grenade launcher.

  My team was late. Another hit on the enemy clearly showed that the “armor” of the Veteran wasn’t holding, and the bullets were penetrating his defenseless and dead body.