Among the endless forests of Siberia is the former military training ground of the Soviet Union. Now it is a training ground for a private military company, which is considered one of the best in its circles. It consists of people whose skills can compete with the skills of professional military from the most advanced powers. While other private companies accepted people based only on combat experience, this one took the best in their industries.
Its dimensions were unmatched. More than 20 thousand people could easily train in its open spaces using a large amount of equipment. Despite such spaciousness, now no more than 10 thousand trains on it. And although their number hardly fills half of all the possibilities of the training ground, they are one of the most professional representatives of this private military company. If you look at this landfill from afar, you can see how it is mostly covered with beautiful white snow of a raging winter.
The polygon itself consisted of several sectors. Each of them represented a particular situation. There were both models of buildings and small city streets. Or different areas in which you need to work out special skills to survive on it in combat conditions. There were also places for recreation at the training ground, in which any group could rest at any time.
Each resting place was a small room that can accommodate up to 8 people so that they are not crowded inside a small building. All of them were identical in relation to the rest. The only difference was the numbers denoting one or another rest room.
A group of five people settled in one of these rooms. The commander of this group was able to assign this room to his personnel, so it became like a home for them. That is why this room was so different from the others. It had a writing table, a comfortable chair in which to lie down. Lockers for equipment, a bench for rest and a couple of chairs.
On the bench lay a boy of about 25 years old. His long silver hair almost reached the floor. He was dressed in a warm fur jacket, on the sleeve of which was a chevron with a skull, behind which a dull flame burned. Next to him could be seen the call sign
— «Fuck». Well, die. Hey, old man, tell me something. You always have some story in store. And then there, the phone turned off. Thankfully I have a second one. But I'm too lazy to climb after him.
A man in his 40s stood against the wall, leaning on it. There was contempt for the boy on his face. There were gray hairs on his brown hair, and his brown eyes seemed to stare into nothingness. On his arm was a chevron with a turtle, under which was seen the call sign
— «Oh, you little one. OK». Fine. I have a story lying around here about a boy who has always been a pompous turkey. Nobody liked him and therefore he had no friends. And among the people he was called a pervert, obsessed with attention ... — he smiled maliciously.
After these words, Pie abruptly jumped up from the bench. A small light lit up in his emerald eyes and he approached the man, taking him by the jacket.
— Take back your words, turtle. «You can't even imagine what I'm capable of», — he said in a menacing voice.
Rising abruptly from her chair, a girl approached them. Her violet hair blocked her view with a sudden jump. She pushed them sharply aside with her hand, and both were presented with the sight of crystal-clear eyes, in which it was as if there was an entire ocean. Her clothes were practical, but compact. Regular-looking jeans were well insulated. And the jacket was something between a down jacket and a tailored denim jacket. On her sleeve was a chevron in the form of wings parallel to each other. Under it was called the callsign
— «This has never happened before, and here it is again. Tom and Jerry in real life…» Hey guys. Let's calm down. To be honest, you already got it. This is not a pub for you, so what are you doing here, huh?! Do you hear, Schoolboy, slam the bread slicer! And that applies to you too, Old Man, got it?!
— You yourself are barking like a mad dog! — Pie yelled back.
In the corner of the room, a guy was sitting at a reading table. He was dressed in all black, and his face was covered with a mask. By voice, he could be given 20-30 years old. In his hands he held a book without a title in a white cover. Next to him, leaning on a table, was a yellow backpack. It had a chevron on its outer pocket. Due to its size, it was only on a backpack. It depicted a girl in a black dress. Her arms were crossed over her chest. One contained a pistol and the other a submachine gun. Behind her was a giant gas mask whose lenses were shattered and covered in blood. Without taking his eyes off the book, he began to sternly tell his comrades to shut up and leave the room.
— Hey, you three dying seals. Close the window, something is blowing. I spent time and nerves to beat out the rest room from the authorities. So don't stop ME from reading the book. Plus, you'll wake up
The trio slowly left the room, closing the door. They walked slowly down the corridor towards the exit to the street. Already on the street, feeling the cold air and cooling their heads, they again started a dialogue, but in a calm tone. They carried on a conversation while others walked around every now and then. One of the topics was the discussion of
— So-so. Are you talking about Quiet? It is impolite to spread rumors about a person behind his back. Although okay, — said the man, moving on to the main thing — I'll tell you something. And don't you dare interrupt me. This is an order from a senior officer. I'm here like a local old-timer, not the first year. And I remember him as a boy, that he came here for the first time. I taught him. The guy is an avid flint, I don't know what made him so on the mainland, but it helped him a lot in learning. He taught everything so fanatically that even I felt uneasy. Later I learned that all this had fascinated him since childhood. Although he also liked to play games or read manga or whatever, color books in general during training. Soon he was crushed under his wing by one commander. He taught him everything he knew. His training, of course, is hell. The rest in his squad were like a squeezed lemon after a course of training, but this one... In general, this is all strange. It was said that he had strange eyes. Like, they glow at night. But then it turned out that he lost the argument, so he put on the lenses. I got distracted… «Where did I stop? Ah, right». So, he became a real family with his detachment. After one assignment, his group created a chevron with a gas mask whose lenses displayed dawn. They did their jobs well! But after one task, he became not himself. Something in him changed, although something rather broke him ... Even his team abandoned him. In addition to the leader, who, so to speak, raised him. He gave him a diary in which he seemed to communicate with himself. This, by the way, is a white book that you often see. Do you see? In any case, there was a task after which he stopped writing anything in it. Then he lost his team. We had a scout who watched the mission from afar. It was he who helped us get them, although I'm getting ahead of myself. They took the task of destroying a group of terrorists and taking some kind of box from those. I do not know what was in it, but the reward was serious. Although no one cared. We don't poke our noses into other people's business. As a result, by the end of the day they successfully completed the task, but suddenly the American army appeared. As I understand it, it was their cargo, because they fought great for it. Quiet sat on the bell tower with a sniper rifle, firing infantry. After an undetermined amount of time, either by negligence or some other reason, his rifle was shattered into pieces. This caught everyone's attention, and he looked at them. And soon he saw his detachment, or rather, what was left of him. Apparently, he concentrated so much on his task that he blew the death of his comrades. It turns out that he was the only pair of lenses that looked no longer at dawn, but at the dead comrades. That's the only way I can describe his emblem. The story ends with a tank firing at him. A day later, we went to them and began to pull out. Only he survived. Of course, then he came to the funeral of his comrades, but then abruptly returned to the mainland. I do not know what happened to him there, but he decided to return. And he returned, if I may say so, updated or something. Although he did not become the same, he returned to a relatively former form. Although he brought with him that yellow backpack, but his diary. He also dressed in all black, although he can be understood. On his first, upon his return, assignment, he went with some group. Something bad happened then. They all came back alive, but not at the same time... After the mission, they abruptly left the company, mumbling some nonsense. Like, Quiet killed with such cruelty, and at this time his eyes shone. An investigation began because of the interest of the top. It turned out that they had survived a direct hit from a tank. Devyanostik (Т-90А) then clearly chuckled, if not for an accident, no one would have survived. Although, if I remember correctly, I managed to find out something about stiffness, and it turned out that his mask is not simple. And with a twist, so to speak. There was infrared in her lenses, which is why they saw red eyes. After that, the authorities began either to respect him, or to some extent to be afraid, or something. However, despite the rumors and so on, three things remain the same. The first is that he still cannot either forget his team, or think about it, and how he could not save her, there are so many theories to add up. The second is that he is slowly on the mend, and in a sense, this is your doing. Finally, I would like to say, take care of it. Apparently, he is trying for your sake, although he keeps his distance. Appreciate it and do not give him reasons to return to a terrible state, take care of yourself.
After leaving, the man left behind a double impression. However, his words had a strong impact on the trio. They agreed that everything they heard above would be told to Tort, as well as to forget about the strife between them, at least in front of their commander. As soon as they were about to return, an order was heard over all the loudspeakers for the appearance of all commanders and higher ranks. Then they saw how Quiet came out to them on the street and went to the headquarters. They understood that this meeting was for some important reason, so they simply headed to the recreation room for a real rest, albeit a small one.
A couple of hours later, Quiet came into their room. He woke Cake with a light push and, as soon as he finally woke up, he began to tell briefly what had been discussed above. He prepared them for the fact that they would soon be sent to Syria. There they will have to capture one city, completely clearing it. Quiet explained that their group would be one of those who would keep City Hall on Main Street.
— So, here is the map, — he opened the map in his phone, — here is the city. It is a suburb of the capital. We will, with others, hold the main street where the city hall is located. «Street of shit, of course. Direct, that at least the highway system. And this is the worst thing...» It is reported that in this area, although rather on the outskirts, the Americans are fighting with the British and Russians. Although the city will be practically empty, the chance to meet with the regular armies of these countries is quite high. I would even say too high... We will only have to hold the city for two days. But get ready. This may be the most terrible two days in the life of each of those at the training ground. Departure the day after tomorrow. Therefore, tomorrow is a fierce training, and not only with us...