Episode 9
Tempted by the warmth as the cold is creeping



   "I couldn't sleep last night at all. Life is so meeeean to me..." Bakarne was faking interest as she laid her head in one of her hands, and Elizabeth had just taken over the front chair on the cafeteria table once again. "And I had to put myself three fucking stitches! Three! Can you believe it? Look, I can't even do my hair right now..." She pointed toward her bangs.

    "You look just the same to me."


    "Oh, but a hair is a woman's most treasured charm!" She waved at her. "If you didn't look like a rat maybe you'll understand."


    Man. I'm going to shoot myself one of these days. The fanged woman had just finished her daily vomit looking gruel. This time however, she skipped the toast.


    "Atention everyoneee~"


    Everyone looked at the door where Gyeong was holding an uncomically large megaphone compared to herself. She had that forever radiant smile and Banan standing beside her, with her face compelling lot of contained emotions of humiliation but still having a fake smile on her face.


    “We will be having a surprise shooting test today.”


    “Naaah.” Everyone protested as politely as they could in front of her. “No waaay.”


    “Yes. For this quick test you are all required to bring two round of small weapons. You can have two of the same or two different ones. But they must come all ready, so we can do this smoothly and quick. At 11 in the shooting range, please.” Gyeong didn't get concerned about the protests and brought the megaphone to Banan. “How do you turn this off again?”


    Everyone was quick to finish their breakfast as soon as they were able.


    “Well, does that mean you have some work to do?” Elizabeth asked.


    “Nope. They are all already served. The Korean has already given them ammunition enough for a small guerrilla, so I am out of work lately.”


    “Oh...” Eli crushed her toast onto the gruel in a desperate attempt to make it get some texture. “Well, talking about providing, you were also provided some yesterday, right hun'?” He said as she rubbed her hands, getting off the small black dust from them.


    “What do you mean?”


    “You were holding a Russian gun while pursuing whoever you were trying to catch. Tell me, where... I mean, from who-”


    “Before you start saying something stupid, you rotten rug filled with crusty fleas, stop. We only reached and agreement. I watch his back, and he feeds me proper meals. It is a completely business relationship...”


    “Ah. He feeds you. His communist cock down your throat, right?”


    Bakarne looked at Elizabeth with the most expressionless face she could. Then turned toward the cafeteria's hall and made signs to Gyeong. The small lady came closer with curiosity, as she didn't interact with the Elites yet.


    “Heya, boss. Sorry we don't talk much.” The Basque started. “But I want to hit this fucking bitch's face with a chair without that counting as an aggression, may I do it?”


    The Korean had to blink twice before being able to answer.


    “No, no, no! No violence between the recruits!” She took one of her hands up and gestured negatively with a finger. “No punch, no kick, bites, scratches, no hit with chairs or tables, or stab with cutlery!”


    “Hum...” Bakarne looked at the boss, then she checked her fingers and recounted as she looked at the Nazi girl. “Gotcha.” And then proceeded to smash Elizabeth's face onto her bowl of gruel.


    “Pbhgggrlh!?”


    “Okay then, it is totally legal. Right?” She looked back at Gyeong. She had to compose herself for a second. Gritting her teeth as she forced her smile.


    “Well, I'll let that one pass because it was overseen by my standards... But no more food aggressions from now on.” And she proceeded to make a 180 turn, almost robotically, to hide her face of disbelief while Elizabeth got her head up, all covered by the pale mess of oats and expired milk.


    What a fucking hole of animals, the merciful leader have some consideration for these crazy rats because I don't. Gyeong thought as she got out of the cafeteria.
    

***

    “All of you, make only one line, please."

    The thirty-something members were already prepped on the range. Gyeong was ahead in the stalls, holding a note pad and a pen. She somehow looked less formal as she had started to lose patience seeing them organize in a line that seemed more as if the members were going to conga line dance. Her feet started to stomp rhythmically as she waited for an actual line to be formed.


    Emil was one of the very first to shoot. His choice was a normal semi-automatic gun. Everyone had expected him to fail miserably, but somehow...


    "Not bad." The small serious lady grabbed the paper. "Second round."


    Against all odds, both his papers had a rather good amount of holes close to the center.


    "You can go now." Gyeong smiled as she noted down the score. "Next."


    The line just cleared quite fast. People were bothered that Emil had become better as that meant they couldn't use him as a chew toy. Elizabeth refused to accept it and scored perfect out of spite, but got a comment about her ways of being too petty with arranging her hair perfectly and making everyone wait before she shot her rounds. When it was turn of Bakarne, who as usually she forgot to bring the extra ammunition for her Colt, she knew she was done for after a good first round. She watched the paper come. And just then, she felt the Makarov still on her jacket, and shoot it to save her score. Or not as much, because the seconds were quite worse.


    "Hum. Average." Gyeong compared the papers. "Almost like the first one was shot out of muscle memory..." She looked at her. "Are you blind or what? Get out."


    The woman growled and remarked something about the boss as she left. It was now turn of George. Unlike last times, he was called for a extraoficial demonstration. He felt kind of nervous, as his specialty was close range combat than shooting. He knew he did good on the scores on his training days, but somehow didn't have recollection of them ever happening.


    "Hm. We have here our little American hero." Gyeong looked at him, who was basically a tower to her. "Ready to show how the pros do it?"


    "Ah... I guess so..." He was doubting as he got his M16 ready. "I will do my best, miss..."


    "Oh, such politeness." She muttered as she looked toward the range with her pen ready. "Good boy."


    As he heard that, his body slowly locked in and his rifle got straight as a lance. His breath stopped and his doubts were frozen. It was just in three seconds where the round had already hit the perfect center of the paper. When the paper finally arrived, and they noticed, some of the members able to see it whistled in admiration. George didn't react and was waiting for the next one, still in the same locked pose. Even the little boss was concerned about it.


    "I heard from the Muslim gal you were good, but didn't know you were that good." She commented. "Hey, mister machine."


    George snapped at the mention of Banan and his eyes flickered some. Only then he looked at the examinator.


    "I did good?"


    "Please proceed with the second." And she actioned the next paper. But this time, it sucked balls. It was all over the place. "What the f..." She had to bit her tongue. "What is this, mister?"


    "Eh... I don't know..."


    "Ugh. Another average. Get out of my sight."


    She kept going all over the members the rest of the noon.


    
***

    Banan was not happy to have seen the shootings. Somehow, now that things had a turn where the members doing somehow better, that also made her feel bad. First her anxiety was how they were going to fall, yet the feeling of seeing now how the training of Gyeong was finally fruitful was hurting her. She failed, and the new one didn't in a shorter space of time. A bittersweet sensation of relief but also, humiliation. She knew what was coming next: her demotion and very likely, firing from the division.

    Her throat felt shore.


    "Hello, dear."


    When she was on the second floor, she witnessed the devil, wearing red himself. A tall, handsome man with long dark hair tied in a ponytail, well-kept facial hair and a crimson colored full suit. Neck tie and fancy shoes included in the set.


    "Hello, Shadil. How were your vacations?"


    "Nothing worthy of mention." He smiled. "Sorry that it took me too long to come back."


    They entered the computer office and Banan gestured him to sit on the chair. She herself, booted the computer and just stood around, keeping herself physically busy to avoid any eye contact.


    "So, you are aware of the situation already?"


    "You bet it. I can make sure to know who is the person behind the murder of Lázár in no time, and get them buried in the same moment." He smiled. "No need for provide anything besides some patience. I even already settled a room to stay instead of bothering my dear peers, I know they will appreciate it."


    Everyone appreciates that. Banan kept going on circles around the room.


    "Is there any problem?" Shadil took a package of cigarettes out of his jacket. "Do you mind if I smoke?"


    "I don't like it, but I don't mind if you do." She finally turned and to her surprise, he put it back in the pocket without taking one. "You really can, hey."


    "I'm not that kind of prick." He mentioned. "Either way, do I have something to sign?"


    "Yeah, one second." She went towards the file archive besides her desk and found the paperwork and prompted it in front of him. "There you go."

    
***

    "Heya."

    "Say hello, you animal. Where are your manners?"


    Rurik was in a bad mood, having patched himself up for the injuries in his mouth and fixed some cream to soften the pain in his neck from the strangulation the night before. Luckily, he didn't have trouble to grab, or more likely steal, some goods from the infirmary for such feat. And now he was angry at himself for not being careful enough, angrily stitching some of the goat skins he had collected into a single piece. He thought he had more time, but actually Bakarne had come earlier that day.


    "Sorry." The woman approached him cautiously. For she knew she fucked up in the only single job she had to do. "Still partners?"


    "Shut up. You should have killed the bastard." Rurik mustered. "No food for you today, smurf!"


    "Aw." It was somehow what she expected. Then, she didn't feel as bothered for bringing even more bad news. "By the way, here is your gun. Sorry, I had to use it for something else."


    Rurik almost snapped at the moment he got up and looked at her bringing the gun out. She asserted her as fast as she could.


    "Is fine, is fine!! I will bring you new ammunition right now. I know we have it in the old warehouse. Just... Give me some time to find it, okay?" For a moment, Bakarne thought she was dead. The look of Rurik was cold, and when he was barely some inches close to her... he just picked the Makarov delicately and slowly, and then turned his back. "Errr..."


    "Don't come back until you have the refills. Then maybe I will consider feeding you."


    "Heh." Smiling, Bakarne got closer. "You are actually a sweetheart, aren't ya?" And she picked up and threw him a few boxes of ammo. "I just wanted to see your reaction. For such a monster, you are quite contained."


    He grabbed the small boxes and checked the bullets. They were the real thing. Not only that, she also was kind enough to bring other refills for his Mosin-Nagant, too.


    "How did you get these?" The Russian tower was mostly enthralled now. "Special contraband?"


    "Nay. We have an old warehouse we used for older and other foreign weapons that members won't use much. Because this shithouse is in the middle of everywhere and nowhere at the same time, we got a collection of varied stuff."


    "Hm? In the middle of everything?"


    "Yeah. Turkey, basically. Since these ruins are technically inside the mountain of Ararat - at the east frontier with Armenia. On the south, we have Africa and the Middle East. Then on the north, we are in the in between of the Western Europe, but also against the very edge of the Soviet Union." Bakarne gestured. "And if I can say all of that is because we got it hammered the first day, I hate Geography until it implies knowing the best places for drinking and having pintxos. Either way, this place is like, some kinda relic. A strategic honeypot. Enemies accessing this base and its conduits would be a disgrace, for whatever the mission is meant to be."


    "Makes sense why the old guy would like to protect it at all costs, then." And why he would even resort to people he would usually hate, like me, or this woman right here. "And you say this is like... the inside of the mountain?"


    "Yes. The Anomaly." Bakarne chirped. "Althought I heard that outside of the military world, people have taken it in a more mystical approach. Some crazy wackos have decided that this is literally the place where the last remains of Noah's arks rest."


    "Where did that come from?" Rurik sat and started to work more on the skins. It was now clear he was making something akin of a cape, trying to use the whitest haired ones for camouflage on the snow.


    "I wish I'd knew, but I never understood religious people. Probably some cultist did his own math and rolled with it."


    "Hum." Rurik knotted one of the threads and bit the leftover from it. For a few moments, he admired what he already advanced. "You know, its own twisted way, this place is indeed like Noah's Ark. But all the animal couples are mixed, as a disjointed piece of modern art."


    "Heh." The fanged woman smiled. "Such a pretty analogy this place is not deserving of."

    
***

    The night had already settled when everyone was getting ready for bedtime. It was still early, but just like hibernating species, the early coming of the moon every day made them even more sleepy than usual. Fanny was looking at the snow from one of the windows. Just like when she was just a child, even if it was a rare occurrence, when it did it was an amazing experience. Before she was part of the machine that would just help perpetuate The Troubles, she used to capture surreal artistic pictures of the nature. In a candid attempt of represent how her own self felt after living the Bloody Friday, ironically caused by the same entity that she joined later. And just after that, of course, she would be the eye candy for the strange men in black recruiting for the Divisions.

    The best of the best for every horrible group, militia or guerrilla. But that was their motto. Fanny herself admired her companions more than she ever did herself. So she never understood, of all the ones that were resting in the cooler that time, she was the one that got off. And probably, the rest of her former partners were serving for life with no way to bail out.


    She sighed and looked at the sky. It wasn't as starry at other times, but it was still very beautiful to admire. If it was only the strange building was a top, she could also would be able to observe the city of Yerevan and its lights.


    It was in the middle of her thoughts she felt an arm resting on her shoulders.


    "Heeey." George cheered her. "How are you?"


    "Fuck you." Fanny looked at him expressionless. "Don't jump at me all of a sudden, or one day you will get a taste of lead if you catch me loaded."


    "Aww. Don't be so cold." George assumed there was not much of a need for formalities anymore, nor he intended to keep them either. "What are you up to?"


    "Just chillin'. It wasn't a lie, after all. "I saw you at the range. Are you okay?"


    "What do you mean? Of course I am!" He smiled.


    "Yeah, sure. There was something different when you shot the first round."


    George looked confused. He signaled his own face.


    "Yes, you."


    She didn't get any answer, since he looked even more troubled to understand than she did. If anything, it could only be part of those special CIA trainings. Or he is just a dumbass blessed by the beginner's luck. She turned around to look again the sky and leaned toward the frame. The guy would just emulate and look at the sky as well, without any words. The moment felt as if they were freezing on the spot. They didn't really need anything else. Before noticing, the lights inside were turned off. And they knew they should be heading for the dorms.


    Before they reached the first floor, they saw Banan going upstairs. She nodded at them and kept going. George felt still a tiny pain, but still relieved at her smiling more nonchalantly than the usual. And of course he tripped with the last step, but the mask would not work much to make the hit with his whole face hurt less.


    "Retarded gringo." Fanny mentioned. Then she grabbed his hand to help him getting up. "I am going to become jealous if you don't stop oggling the Muslim bean there."


    "I am sorry, I can't help but to worry sometimes." He put his hand over the masked face to check the rough parts. "We were engaged in the past, so of course I still care about her."


    "You were about to marry that tight ass!?"


    "Didn't I tell you?" Her face of disbelief was all he needed to confirm. "Yeah, maybe I should have said that before dating you.


    "More than that, why would you or anyone want to be with such a narkeyhole? She is boring and nagging, just exactly what guys dislike. So-"


    "She was the best and only survivor of the Wahhabi airstrike terror group she was in. An expert on the same force of destruction that pursued her life over and over from her childhood." The words of the blonde boy were painted more serious than ever. "And a smart girl that got asylum in the UK finishing her studies and even getting big grades on technology and computering development. She left that life due to... personal reasons and kept joining more terrorists groups until we met in Kazakhstan for the first time. By then she was quite one of the most wanted in half of the globe." He smiled. "I still remember when my uncle Beser presented her to me and also thinking like a stupid that she was too small and non-bloodyseeking." He rolled off one of his sleeves and proudly showed a profound scar crossing the muscles. "This is what she did to me when I called her "too innocent" that same day."


    Fanny's face was a mix of jealousy but also, renewed perception. She never had thought, not ever once - Banan had anything resembling of a cool past of her own. To the Irish girl, she had always been a pushover secretary that would live slowly cracking over eggshells with superiority over them all.


    "Jesus fucking christ." Those words were the only thing she could mutter.


    "Yeah." George put back his sleeve. "We had it rough, we shared the same pain for a  few years. It may not be much, but honestly, anyone you survive a Russian airstrike with, must be someone you may trust the rest of your life, you know."


    She was silent in the rest of the way to the rooms. George was already in the door to his own, and he meekly gestured by to her, but she didn't reciprocate. Instead, she went her own way without a word.


    "See ya tomorrow!" He finally said out loud.


    She looked at him without turning her body, and gave him a timid smile. Only to then look away and frown, containing her itching throat's desire to pout and cry.

    

***
    
    Half finished blueberry lime spritzers on the table. A rusty nail player over a vynyl with the best hits of Modern Talking, now just recently separated. The soft touch of the red velvet blankets that could not compare to the usual everyone had to deal with. Such display of luxuries - all catered for only the now accomplished goal. Shadil was laying on the bed, completely naked and erected, as Banan was also undressing excepting her hijab.

    "Hey, why won't you take it off? Don't ya trust me enough?"


    "Not a matter of trust." She said softly. "And you know it." It was not like she was really following proper modesty now, either. But she decided she deserved to indulge after all the stress she had deal. And she knew she could always dispose of him very easily. But for now, mutual benefit was ahead of them.


    "Hm. Well, it is just more exciting as it, so I'll deal with it."


    Shadil didn't want to go straight to the main course. If anything, the small frame of Banan getting closer was already pleasurable enough. Her dark eyes so enticing.


    I can't believe his ex would pass on such a cutie. What a stupid yankee. He elevated his fingers toward her chin and looked his sight on hers. His thumb tracing along her lips. To them be pursed against it.


    "Mh."


    "Dance for me."


    And so, she did. Her body moved slowly close to him, he was only able to watch the back for some while. He didn't even feel the urge to grab her, but actually, the show itself was enough to keep him entertained. All the curves on motion, her own hands highlighting them and sometimes even looking back at him with a sultry smile.


    I am going to lose my shit. The man just did his best to calm down and started to take the momentum to masturbate the need out. That felt much better. And probably was his favorite part rather than taking any of her holes. The vynyl kept playing, and the rough bumps that would make an almost unnoticeable scratch would make him feel slightly disturbed. But he kept shaking his cock at the vision of Banan, that had finally turned her front towards him, allowing to enjoy the view of her perky, yet still generous breasts. All of her was a treat to witness.


    "Hmmm." She looked down at him. "Is someone already bored?"


    "You are completely wrong in that regard, "She who survives airstrikes", hun." His strokes becoming more and more slow but long, not diverting his eyes from her body. "Tell me, is this part of any modern management methods?"


    "Such a silly guy for the top spy in the world." Her hands laid on the sides of his body, crouching closer to him. Her breath of mint toothpaste made him comfortable. All of her was elegant without being extravagant. And in the cold winter of Turkey, they would finally embrace of each other.    


Cheri cheri lady, goin' through emotion
Love is where you find it, listen to your heart
Cheri cheri lady, livin' in devotion
It's always like the first time, let me take a part

    She just longed of the attention and touch of someone, when the one she wished for was not going to be.

    The other, just having a distraction with the new tool in his shed. For he knew she was crucial for his plan to set on motion.


    Both of them, every sound and movement captured in the video camera set in the table, where the drinks were standing still - yet to be finished.




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