October 17th, 1990

Chernikovka, Kingdom of Falkheim.

5:19 AM

The truck's cabin was hot, not that Nikita minded the heat. It was, after all, better than the near-zero temperatures outside. Nikita wiped the sweat from his brow with a gloved hand, his other firmly gripping the steering wheel as he navigated the desolate highway stretching in front of him. The landscape outside was barren, a vast expanse of icy tundra cloaked in darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of the truck's headlights and the distant lights of Chernikovka. Nikita found himself looking outside at the wasteland as Viktor spoke to him.

“So Nikki, how long do you think we have until we reach the drop-off point?”

Viktor was a young man, having only celebrated his 19th birthday some weeks prior. How he had landed this job, he wasn't quite sure but Nikita was sure some strings had to have been pulled. After all, how would a high-school graduate have found himself inside the syndicate so easily? Nikita remained silent for a moment, calculating the distance in his head. Finally, he spoke, his voice gravelly from a day without sleep. "A few hours, maybe less if the road stays clear," he replied, his eyes never leaving the dark expanse stretching out before them.

Viktor nodded, his gaze shifting from Nikita to the window, where the dancing lights of the north were visible. "Good, good," he muttered, his fingers tapping against the armrest. Nikita stared at him from the corner of his eyes, wondering if the young man was truly suitable for the job when he spoke.

“Look in the back and see if “he” is still moving,” he said as he motioned at the small slit on the wall behind them. With a nod, Viktor complied, his fingers fumbling slightly as he reached for the steel plate covering the opening. As he pulled it back, a shaft of dim light spilled into the darkness of the truck's cargo area, illuminating the figure sitting on the floor. Even though he was bound by his arms and legs, the man had somehow maintained a sitting position that reminded Viktor of the monks he had seen down in the south.

Just having his face near the slit he could feel the cold air blowing through. If he had to guess it was probably as cold outside as it was in there. Victor smirked as he watched the man turn and look at him, his eyes shining in the dark almost like a cat’s wound. Throughout their journey when they were given this man to deliver, he had not said a single thing, remaining utterly silent as he was set into the back of the truck. Victor wondered if the man was some sort of mute with how quiet he was but it wasn't that important now that he saw the man was still alive. Closing the slit, Nikita and Victor got back to watching the roads as they drove to their drop-off point.

Three hours later, as the darkness of night began to give way to the faint light of dawn, Nikita and Viktor finally reached their destination. On the side of the road was a small gas station that from the outside looked abandoned but they knew better. Pulling off of the highway and into the gas station, they could see a couple of men looking out from the gas station windows, their weapons held in a ready position.

As they brought the truck to a halt in front of the gas pumps, the armed men emerged from the shadows, their expressions unreadable behind their masks and helmets. Nikita and Viktor remained cautious, their hands hovering near their weapons as they awaited further instructions. It was clear that they had entered a delicate situation.

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With a nod from one of the armed men, Nikita rolled down his window, his gaze meeting the steely gaze of their contact. "We've brought the package," he stated simply, his voice betraying none of the apprehension he felt. The man nodded in acknowledgment, his demeanor betraying no emotion as he motioned for them to follow him inside. As they stepped out of the truck and into the dimly lit interior of the gas station, Nikita and Viktor finally saw the man they were to meet.

Seated on a plastic chair was a giant of a man, the others almost dwarfed him. The giant looked up as they entered, his eyes sharp and assessing. His sheer size was very intimidating, his broad shoulders almost touching the sides of the narrow gas station aisle he was seated in front of. His face was rugged, with deep-set brown eyes that seemed to pierce through to one's soul. A thick beard covered most of his face, and his hair was cropped short in a formal sort of fashion. He had looked very familiar to Nikita but he could not quite place his finger on why.

He wore a heavy, fur-lined coat, a shuba from the looks of it, and one that was not all that uncommon in northern Falkheim. His hands, massive and calloused, rested on his knees as he scrutinized Nikita and Viktor.

"You have the package, yes?" the giant asked, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to vibrate through the floor. It was clear Falkenease wasn't his first language as it sounded broken yet Nikita couldn't quite place where the man could have been from.

Nikita nodded. "Yes, he's in the back of the truck."

The giant stood up, towering over everyone else in the room. He moved with surprising grace for a man of his size, gesturing to his men to follow him outside. Two of them stepped forward and followed after him. Outside, two more men opened the back of the truck, revealing the bound man inside. The giant clapped his hands together as he saw the bound man, smiling as he did so.

“After so many years it is finally good to see you once again old friend,” he said as the men cut the rope off of him. Nikita and Victor watched, confused about why they were freeing him. Nikita had thought he was going to be hauled off for organ trafficking or perhaps something along those lines but seeing him released made him wonder what was happening. Back by the truck, the bound man rubbed his hands against the areas where the rope had chafed against his skin, leaving large red marks over those areas.

“So…what about the payment?” Viktor asked as the men before him stood silently.

"You've done well," he said, his gaze returning to Nikita and Viktor. "Now, for your payment."

One of the men beside the giant held up a leather briefcase. With a snap, the case was opened, revealing stacks of crisp banknotes. Viktor's eyes widened slightly, but he remained silent, waiting for Nikita to inspect the payment.

Nikita counted the money quickly, ensuring it was all there. Satisfied, he nodded. "It’s all here."

The giant’s mouth curved into a slight smile. "Good. Now, take your money and leave. You don’t want to be here any longer than necessary."

Nikita and Viktor didn’t need to be told twice. They gathered the briefcase and headed back to the truck but as they were getting inside, Viktor said something that he shouldn't have.

“You know, I was kinda surprised to see Lars Wegkamp of all people here,” he said before suddenly, hands grabbing them and pulling them backward. Within an instant, they were now on the ground as the giant looked down on them, his expression blank.

The giant's eyes narrowed, and he crouched down to their level, his massive frame casting a shadow over them. "What did you say?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Viktor swallowed hard, realizing his mistake. "I—I'm sorry, I didn't mean—"

The giant held up a hand, silencing him. "It's clear that you know too much," he said slowly, each word dripping with menace.

Before Nikita or Viktor could react, the giant nodded to his men. There was a swift movement, a glint of metal in the dim light, and then the cold bite of steel. Nikita felt a sharp pain in his back, and his vision blurred as he tried to grasp what was happening. He heard Viktor's strangled cry beside him, then nothing but the thudding of his heartbeat slowing into nothing. In a matter of seconds, the light had faded from Nikita’s eyes and he was dead.

The giant stood up, brushing his hands together as if dusting off crumbs. "Dispose of them," he ordered his men. "And make sure it’s clean. We don’t need anyone finding any loose ends."

The men nodded, grabbing the two bodies and dragging them to a shallow hole that had been dug earlier. The giant turned back to the freedman, who was now standing beside the truck, watching the scene unfold with a curious detachment.

“Come,” the giant said to him. “We have much to discuss.”

As the first light of dawn broke over the tundra, the gas station returned to its eerie silence, the snow quickly covering the shallow grave that wouldn't be found for years to come.