RWB 2: Bad Moon Rising Prologue
#1 of RWB 2: Bad Moon Rising
Hey. I'm back. For real this time, with another Alexei Pavlov adventure. Looks like Alex's old friend Kossenko's back, and that means it can only be a matter of time before the shit hits the fan. So here it is, the prologue of Red, White, and Blue 2: Bad Moon Rising.
Prologue: Everybody Wants to Rule the World
It was a dark room.
He couldn't remember exactly how he got here. He had been blindfolded in the back of a van until he reached the compound, and even then it hadn't been removed until he got to that spot. A room. God knows what kind of room, be it a board room, a throne room, a torture chamber, fuck, he didn't know. He was in a chair, back against the wall. And that's how he felt, like his back was against the wall. Igor Kossenko was a scary male. Lots of power, lots of drive, lots of influence. He was nervous. He was scared. He was regretting his decision to go there more and more every second, and suddenly, a creaking.
It was a door. His heart skipped a beat. He heard footsteps. They were approaching him. A draft from where someone walked past him, then sat down in front of him. It was still dark. He could vaguely make out a shape. Lupine, definitely lupine. After what felt like an eternity, a voice, thick with Russian accent, "Hello, Mr. Lebowski. I've been looking over this... plan you sent me, and believe me, I am all for it." That had to be Kossenko. No one else would have known about the details of the plan. Well, at least the meeting was off to a good start. He hoped.
Kossenko continued on in his gravelly voice, "I have but one question. What exactly does it do for me? Why should I choose to assist you in this endeavor?" He felt tongue tied, like he knew what he wanted to say, but he couldn't get it out. He calmed himself, and slowly began, "My country and I are not the only ones who will benefit from an America in shambles. Imagine how successful Russia could be. Imagine how successful you could be. You and your organization. You could seep into America while she's wounded and grow like a cancer, until the entire country is under your control from the inside." He waited anxiously for a response, a dryness forming in his throat. The wolf across from him laughed quietly, "A cancer simile, Mr. Lebowski? Such figures of speech are quite a risk when trying to kiss your audience's ass. But, ah, yes, I do believe I see where you are coming from. There is a... certain interest I have in controlling America. But, there is one thing that stands in the way of that plan, comrade, and it is something you have never heard of, and once you have, you will wish for the rest of your short life that you hadn't."
He gulped, unsure of what Kossenko was getting at, and asked, "Do you mean national authorities? Secret agents and whatnot? Or is there some brotherhood of assassins out there that I'm not aware of?" "You continue to speak rather... impetuously, comrade," Kossenko chided with a hint of disdain that his guest could not pick up on, "They are not authorities, secret agents, or assassins, but rather a mixture of all of those things. A quite lethal mixture, if I might add. Since this plot of yours is in my interests, as you say, I am going to let you in on a secret. There is an organization, beyond top secret. Its name is H.U.R.T., and if you know of its existence, you are either a member, in some cases a member's mate, a national executive, myself, or dead."
"So," the visitor straightened out, "So. The only threat I will face with your support is a group of glorified spooks that depend on secrecy? Come on, it shouldn't be so hard to take them out." "Oh? How do you plan on doing so?" "Smoke 'em out. If they're all secretive, just expose them. Then they have nowhere to hide." "Mr. Lebowski, I believe you underestimate H.U.R.T. entirely too much. If you make half of an attempt to reveal their existence, your connections will be found out, and you will be killed within twenty-four hours. Not only that, but they will make it look like a suicide, as if you had gone insane and blabbered out nonsense in your final days before your demise." "What about your protection? Wouldn't you keep me safe?" "My friend, I, nor anyone else, cannot protect against stupidity," Kossenko said acidly, leaning forward slightly in his seat.
Suddenly the visitor remembered where he was and who he was talking to, and his heart skipped a beat. He realized he needed to cut the asinine crap or he might not make it out of this place in one piece, or possibly even at all. He collected himself and cautiously asked, "Then how do we beat them?" Kossenko once again laughed out loud, "Beat them? You cannot beat them, comrade. You have to hold them off. Lie. Cheat. Deceive. Outmaneuver. Survive. You must play a game of cat and mouse, leading them on long enough so you can accomplish your goal before they get to you. If you succeed, they will have much more to worry about than you, hopefully, and you will be safe, however temporarily. But you must be ever vigilant. You cannot let your guard down. You have to outplay them right until the end, no matter the cost. That is how you 'beat' them."
The guest felt a drop of sweat roll on his brow, despite the chilliness of the room, "How long do I have before they start looking for me?" "Mr. Lebowski, I assure you, you are already on their radar. You have to start immediately, or it will be too late. Time is of the essence. You know what you must do." The visitor nodded his head with nervous velocity, for some reason believing that even though he could not see Kossenko clearly, Kossenko could see him just as easily as he could if it was broad daylight. The Russian wolf stood up to walk away, but stopped and asked, "Oh, one more thing: I seem to forget who you will have take the blame for this endeavor of yours." "Oh," the visitor laughed, feebly attempting to sound confident, "I think it's about time Al Qaeda put itself back on the map." He saw a gleam shine off Kossenko's wolfish grin as he told him, "A stunning proposition, Mr. Lebowski. Until next time, comrade."
Kossenko walked away, his footsteps decreasing in volume until the guest heard a door open and shut. He sat there in that room, contemplating the few questions that had been answered, and the many more that had been raised. He had a feeling he wouldn't find answers all too quickly. But he still knew one thing: he had the backing of Igor Kossenko and all of his power, and all of his influence, and that was what mattered the most right then. And still he sat in that room, wondering what was going to happen. He was alone again, and for some reason afraid of what was coming next, both in his immediate future and from this mysterious H.U.R.T. group that even the indomitable Igor Kossenko seemed to be intimidated by. He sat in that chair. Suddenly a door opened, but not the one Kossenko came from. The blindfold was pulled over his eyes, and he felt a needle go into his arm before he began to fall asleep.
It was a dark room.
And it just got a hell of a lot darker.