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Moscow - July 10th, 1983

Darkness had long crept over the Kremlin in Moscow. The year was 1983, and the Soviet Union was still in full force. Along the streets of Moscow strolled Miles G. Warren, C.I.A. agent implanted into the Russian Soviet government to find out exactly what the Russians were planning these days. He was garbed in a very heavy fur coat covering most of his body complete with a hood to keep his head warm. He trudged home through the snow covered sidewalk. He flips his collar up suddenly to help throw off a chill that ran up his spine. He couldn't tell if it was due to the cold wind blowing through the city, or if it's the feeling he was being followed. It didn't matter much anymore as he quickly ducks into his abode, where his wife and fellow agent had been waiting for him.

"Martha," he said in english as he finally made his way inside. He quickly shrugged off his jacket and tosses it on the couch, revealing a grey suit.

He was greeted by woman of similar age as him, garbed a simple blue dress and heel less shoes. She quickly turned from the stove, startled at mile's sudden entrance as she was cooking a pot of stew for their dinner.

"Miles," she replied calmly. "Were you followed?"

"I'm sure that I wasn't, have we been compromised?" he asked.

"Not to my knowledge, no"

"It's bad enough we have to look over our shoulders every other day Miles, but now that we have a kid... on top of that a hybrid Miles," she went on as she turned to the stove to finish cooking.

"I know Martha," he replied.

"Do you care he's..."

Before she could finish the question, he quickly spun her around and gave her a loving smile, "I think he's perfect Martha, just like you..." The two smiled at each other and began to close in for a tender kiss when suddenly, the child in the bassinet begins to cry. "blocked by my own son..."

Mile gently picked up the swaddled bundle into his arms and gently began rocking. He moved parts of the blanket away to see the kit's face as he quiets down, and slowly slipping back to sleep. Miles couldn't help but smile as he slowly placed the kit back.

"Little Miles Junior, such a treasure..." whispered Martha as she watched the two.

The peace was shattered with a hard tapping on the front door of their house. Miles narrowed his eyes towards the door in suspicion. He cautiously stepped towards the door and opened it. Before him were several KGB officers at the door. The big one at the door in particular had salt and pepper hair under his hat, and a deep scar on the right side of his already wrinkled face.

"Sadko Gurlukovich?" the man said in a monotone.

"Da!" Miles said in reply.

The man pulled out his Makarov side arms and shoves it into Mile's chest, over his heart, stone cold expressionless look on his face. "Chernenko sends his regards..." Without hesitation or concern, the man pulled the trigger. Blood spattered as the bullet passes through Mile's body, making a giant hole in his aorta. Miles gasped for air as he landed upon the floor. The loudness of the weapon woke the couples kit again, causing the child to cry once again.

Martha didn't move from the stove as she watched the whole scene play out. she knew there would be no way out of this situation, she had no weapon on her at the moment, she had to keep up the appearance of a regular housewife. The man stepped over Miles quietly and began making his way towards her.

"Martha, you and your husband have been charged with high treason for espionage against the Soviet people. We show no remorse for you C.I.A. Dogs." he said, keeping the gun leveled at her.

He grabs her arm and pulls her close to where her husband lies, desperately gasping for air. He watched in utter horror as the man forces the woman down on her knees and places the Makarov to the back of her skull, where her brain stem would be.

"You both can humbly take solace in the fact that you both will die together."

"May I have one request before you execute me?"

"Surely to beg for your life."

"No," she replied. "To beg for the life of my son... You can do whatever you want to me, just please let my son live."

"Your request is noted..."

Again, another crack from the 9mm in his hand. The woman's eyes widen from the shock to her system and falls over on her stomach, her face looking towards her dying husband. Miles watched as his lips quivered as he reached out for her now lifeless body. He gave one last gasp as his hand falls lifeless to the ground.

The man then stepped over to the bassinet to the still crying child. He pulled up the gun and aimed it at the child, ready to pull the trigger. Before he had the chance, the blanket opened to show the child was a red fox kit. a coy smile fell upon the man's lips as he saw the young balling child before him. He calculated the risks of taking the child, who wasn't but a couple of days old, out of a traitor's home and raise the kid as a soldier.

"Captain?" one of the men spoke up in russian. "Do we kill the child?"

"No," he replied after a moment of thought, slowly replacing his side arm to it's holster. "We take him with us, we shall train him to be a Spetznaz warrior. This was a direct attack on the Soviet homefront, and America must pay for this transgression!"

"Yes, good captain!" the man spoke.

The captain took up the brown coat that lay on the couch and placed the child gingerly in the still warm coat. He picked the coat and child up and trudged back to the main military headquarters through the dark, snowy streets. he couldn't help to chuckle to himself as the child falls back asleep in his arms.

"From this moment on," he said to the child as he slept, "You will be the Red Fox, Hero of the Soviet People..."