Present day, 20xx...

The trees grew taller and denser as he traveled through the winding dirt roads of the forest, the scent of gasoline mixing itself with the crisp smell of pine. The truck glided over the rocks and fallen limbs that piled over the mudded paths, and after hearing the sounds of whistling turbos, he was overcome by the urge to slam the pedal down as far as it could go.

Sunlight filtered through the trees, creating a dancing pattern of lights and shadows around him. He showed no fear in jumping off ledges, drifting around trees and bouncing across streams, he could map every tree, every hidden cave or valley in the forest by memory, and he knew every set of paths like the back of his hand.

Roma arrived at the gates of the facility in an imported truck, the restless engine cried out as he sat in an idle, it had huge off road tires and cut off bumpers, with giant red shocks and black coated springs,

“You guys gonna open the gates or what?” Roma yelled,

“I'm going to need the magic words.” The guard shrugged his shoulders,

“—There is an rpg-7 in my car.”

The guards chuckled as they radioed in to the tower, and the gates then opened behind them,

“They are waiting in- somewhere.” one of the guards chuckled again,

“Thanks, asshole.” Roma put his palm to his head, god I haven't gotten any sleep, I can hardly think anymore.

Mi-26s carrying large steel crates flew in from above, as their blades cut through the air and Roma could feel the pressure fighting against his steering wheel. He parked behind a set of steel doors, and sirens whirred to life as the doors slowly crept open, revealing a dimly lit tunnel behind them.

He drove down the echoing halls and parked on a pad inside, where his vehicle was lowered further underground on an elevator. He parked inside an underground garage connected to the facility, but even still he could hear the sounds of a trapdoor opening through the stone walls far above him. …

Two men rushed to the elevator pad above ground, as one of the heli’s lowered a crate onto the steel pad, the men unhooked the chains and pulled them aside. And as soon as the two men gave the signal, the pad was lowered inside. …

“It's about time we got a new shipment, these should have some new toys, which will be fun.” Roma said to himself. He pressed his keycard against the door sensor, it chimed green as the locks clicked open. A cold air rushed through him as the vault door crept open to reveal a massive hallway of carved grey stone. He waded his time as he made his way through the chilled walkways under the dim lamps that guided the huge tunnels,

Around a hundred years ago, this used to be one of the countries biggest mining sites, but during the cold war, the miners not only had to abandon it then and there, but because they were technically government workers, the soviets forced them to build this entire facility themselves… Roma thought. He traced his fingers across veins of granite and marble until he arrived at the main cargo hold.

As he walked inside, he felt immediate warmth and the scent of oil and metal that coated his lungs, He weaved around the forklifts carrying wooden palettes, and through the giant rows of support beams that carried mile long sorters and conveyors that ran above him, and around the towering shelves filled with half century old gear and weapons, he grabbed one of the silver cartridges out of an open box crate beside him. The bullet was bent at an angle outside of the beaten up silver casing, and he bent it back straight with his thumb, before tossing it to one of the forklift drivers,

“Hasn't your mother ever told you never reload aluminum?” Roma asked one of the drivers,

“Funny.”

“Is it all there this time? They didn't cheat us again did they?” Roma asked,

“Bah! Everything looks to be in order, but like always I'm sure there's something they ‘forgot’ to ship.” The driver replied,

“-sigh- How do they expect us to run these ops with half a century old equipment? Bastards give us the bare fucking minimum just because were part of a smaller ops team, its pathetic.” Roma spat,

“Yep, but there's not much we can do about it, I guess they don't see us as important enough ‘assets’.” He replied,

“We’re their goddamn national security! I don't know what's going through their heads… But enough of that, I want this all organized before the day ends, I'll leave you to it.”

Roma shortly arrived at the meeting lounge, where the others from his squad sat and mumbled about,

“Alright gents, we have 4 possible points of entry, one up top, one in the front, two in the back. There are no windows so this op is going danger close.”Roma stated,

“Can we use the as val’s? C'mon please? We just got new shipments too.” Viktor pleaded.

“No Viktor, the center has just managed to give us the wrong shipment— again. So instead, we have an entire crate filled with useless ass sr-3 vikhr’s, and 2.5 kilos of meth.”

“How considerate, but what if the Americans start using cocaine?” Andrey asked,

“This is what war crimes are for. And we've already started testing heroin abuse on monkeys, so don't worry lads. Anyways, these shouldn't be too different from your standard val, they use the same 20 rounds of 9x39, except they don't have suppressors this time, so find one—”

“Where the hell do we ‘find one’? All of our stock is 7.62 caliber.” Ivon asked, Roma threw a dry sample of one on the table, and it became the center of fixed eyes.

“—everyone except Ivon, just switch the barrels from the vals, these are shorter, and lighter, so they'll be easier to carry through halls.”

“What am I supposed to do then?!”

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“Silence is a privilege that I don't think you deserve, so now you get to make your own, congratulations! And I don't care if you have to weld one together from flat washers you find on the floor, figure it out.”

“Moving back to our entry plan, since there are no windows, we're going to have to march through the front door. Because of that, we're going dark on this one, so get excited.” Roma said to the crew,

“Finally, this just keeps getting better!!” One of them said,

“Wait.. where did we get night vision goggles from?” A commotion sprung,

“I want a sniper team setup on the rooftops to give us some visibility to all entries, blah blah, it may not have any windows, but I won't allow any of those bastards to sneak out, so Lev, you're up.” Roma ordered,

“Aye cap’n”

“You and whoever else will also be our reconnaissance, who am i to tell you how to do your job.” Roma said,

“Copy that, Mr. Colonel, Sir.” Lev remarked,

“Yeah— um, The rest of you are with me, remember, we only got one shot, and we have no idea what those sick fucks have planned. Clear? Clear.” Roma announced,

“Aye cap’n.” they all replied,

“—Meetings adjourned, now go and fuck off.” Roma grunted,

“As if! We should just leave today, save us some time” Kirill argued as he sat cleaning out his makarov,

“And this is why you don't make decisions.” Roma ended. …

The early morning mist rose from the lake's still waters, while two men with fishing rods in hand sat over the edge of a dock. There was a comfortable silence between the two, one of them sat in a daze staring out at a bright red bobber that floated from a cast line in the lake's navy blue waters.

The two men wore simple clothes and appeared to be in their late thirties, they both wore the same hat, loose white shirts, and long camo cargo pants tucked inside black boots.

“Man, I wish I could see the kids already, I hate being on duty this long.” Andrey said,

“It's all part of the job, someones gotta do it.” Nigel replied,

“That's the truth i guess, what about your side?” Andrey asked,

“My daughter graduates this year, and I'll be damned if I'm still stuck here when the time comes.” Nigel declared,

“That's tough, my wife is alone with five kids, while I'm here taking it easy, they're out there growing without me.” Andrey said with a defeated expression,

“Christ, 5!? Stay off her dude.” Nigel denoted.

“What motherfucker? Speaking of motherfuckers, Roma, he's changed, I haven't seen the man with that stressed out look in his eyes in years.” Andrey said,

“I noticed, ever since that day you would think someone took his place, he became so eccentric and detached.” Nigel replied,

“It's not even that, it's almost like every time he fights he loses control and takes some awful ass risks.” Andrey said,

“What are you retards talking about?” Roma asked as he walked along the docks steel floors, he sat down beside them and put down a twelve pack, they each grabbed one,

“Are you sure you're okay with this?”

“Am i okay with what?”

“Youve been acting suicidal, Roma, no one knows whats going on in that head of yours and its concerning.” Nigel said bluntly, Roma poked a hole in the side of the can with his finger and gulped it down in one breath,

“If by me saying i'm okay with it you're looking for affirmation, then that's not very smart. I have nothing to lose so there is nothing that can hurt me.

“What are you, a walking cliche?” Andrey asked. Hours passed as they threw lines in the still watered lake.

“Ya know, I’ve been away from most of my girl's childhood, but I've never regretted it. I want my kid to be proud of what I do. I want her to go to school and say, ‘My dad actually saves people’, but sometimes I think, what if I never signed up, ya know?” Nigel said,

“Cringe–” Andrey porodded,

“Imagine not catching shit in 3 hours, Andrey.” Nigel challenged,

“Coming from a guy who can't use his own guns without American junk on it. I mean, what kind of Russian cant use an ak?” Andrey mocked,

“The times change, it’s better, period!” Nigel countered,

“It’s junk. Bulky, heavy, useless junk.” Andrey said,

“Stay poor then, I'll sleep fine knowing mine is better than yours.” Nigel scoffed,

“Let’s go to the range then– what's that? Silence because you know you will never beat me with actual skill in a hundred million years?!” Andrey argued,

“Remember that time we made a bet on if a stamped or milled frame would last longer? Who won that again?” Roma chimed in,

“Stay out of it, Roma, and by the way that makes no sense, it's a piece of damn sheet metal!” Andrey denoted,

“You called me crazy, but mine outlasted both of yours.” Roma laughed,

“Yeah, and you won the lottery while I had to explain to our superiors why we burned through 900 rounds of 7.62 in half a day. We ran through our whole supply all because you had to prove a point. I couldn't hear a damn thing in the board meeting the next day.” Nigel groaned,

“Hah! At least we had buckets full of 5.45 and no guns to shoot it with, but times change, right?” Roma spat.

The three of them argued and drank into the night. …

The midnight void was set ablaze by the star filled night sky, the milky way painted rivers of glowing light from both ends of the horizon. But even the light of the brightest star couldn't reach them far and below underground. Inside one of their main bases, where over 8,000 men were stationed, Roma stood over a wooden workbench inside his office near the main cargo hold. He wiped away the black gunpowder that coated his arms with a towel, he stood expressionless, gazing at the half torn picture of his grown up daughter on his desk.

“The coach didn't put you in at all in this game either, huh?” His voice in his head asked,

“No.. but it's only my second year, I still have plenty of time! I'm sure I'll be a starter next year.” Said a girl,

“Are you fine with that? What will change in your third year if you don’t have the drive to move forward in the second?”

“What do you care? You haven't watched a single game of mine this whole season, dad.”

Roma couldn't move an inch from where he stood, it was as if he was walking on eggshells, but with spent shotgun shells instead.

He screwed the last bolt into the rifle's frame, he had replaced Ivon’s barrel with the parts from his own in private, and set it to the side, where he saw an aging picture of his son taped to the wall,

“So when were you planning on telling me that you got fired? I know you've been sneaking out to parties instead of working these past months.” Roma asked,

“I've applied for dozens of places, no one is hiring and that's not my fault.” A man in his late teens replied,

“You'd better figure something out, I'm charging you 10% extra every week you don't want to work. When you can't pay me and you still don't have a job, I have a door you can walk out of.”

“Think I need you? Like you’ve ever been here in the first place? Fuck you, I’ll walk right now!”

Roma spent the rest of the night rebuilding his reflective chrome shotgun piece by piece until his alarm rang, and he screwed on its final piece, a salvo 12 suppressor.

That very morning, they advanced. …