Wildlife Security Solutions, LLC – Contract #2, pt 4

“Fuck, I hate flying.” Volk noted, the discomfort in his voice more palpable than normal.

“At least we don’t jump out of this one.” Grizli countered, slapping the smallest member of the squad on the back. “But if we do, aim for that queen bitch so you can be the last man to penetrate her.”

Despite its massive size, the Il-76’s cavernous hold was bare, with only a row of skeletal seats extending from the right frame indicating anything living could be carried. Beyond the chains attached to the floor that were meant to hold a tank in place, there was nothing else in terms of comfort or even basic decorum, which made each man grumble in some level of discontent. The stench of elderly metal and various oils saturated the air around them, and just for a moment, Akula could swear the transport smelled like the spray of the sea. Der’mo, now I’m imagining smells of all things…

“I was told the company sent a proper transport!” they all heard Orchid yell from the cockpit.

“Then please, call your czar and tell them I’m not hauling a fucking thing for you! This is what you’ve got, so either shut your mouth, or get off my aircraft!” screamed a man’s voice from somewhere next to her, out of view. Akula caught only a glance of the transport’s master, who’s wrinkled face and stern voice told Akula that the pilot knew he was in charge of the situation.

The setting sun made the shuffling line of North Koreans cast a long shadow over the ground. Leading them in a semi-orderly fashion was Gnoo, helping to carry the battlefield litter and IV bag that Il-Sung Ri needed. As they passed Akula at the bottom of the ramp, he looked into the eyes of the man who’s capture had set this all in motion. Gone was the defiance and energy he’d lashed out with when they took him alive. Yet there was also no joy or thankfulness in the prospect of being set free in his homeland, Akula noted. What looked up into the sky was the husk of a broken man, who’s medial gown couldn’t cover all the fresh scars and bruises Solomon had inflicted in the company’s directive for useful information.

Pauk and another of his team formed a two-man tunnel that the rest of the Koreans filtered through wordlessly. Two of Orchid’s aides made up for that tense silence with rampant yelling in Korean, none of which Akula or his team understood. Still, the prisoners made no resistance as they were herded onto the transport. With Il-Sung Ri’s stretcher fastened to the cold floor, everyone that followed sat in the bare-bones seats on command. Once they sat, Orchid’s aides went to work quickly, fastening each man’s handcuffs to the floor with a tight industrial cord.

It took only a moment’s glance, but Akula could feel someone staring knives through him, so he turned to see. At the front of the pack stood a prisoner with his chest held tall and eyes full of anger. Akula guessed quickly that this was a person of seniority, experience, or both. Bastard looks like he wants to eat us alive…

Snapping the fingers on his free hand and keeping the other on the pistol grip of his own taser, Akula caught the attention of one of the aides. “Who’s this?”

The aide, annoyed at being distracted from his work, took a stack of papers from his blazer pocket. Thankfully, the Korean in question was so on top of the pile, letting Akula read over the man’s summarized life. “Captain Pak-Chol Sum, commanding officer of the Geulimja Regiment…”
Noticing that Grizli was curiously staring at the papers as well, Akula turned the top sheet so he could see. “Here’s the big swinging dick that was shooting at us in Al Jufra.”

“You mean killing you!” Sum shouted in practiced Russian, catching many of the non-Koreans on the transport by surprise. Only Volk maintained his neutral stoicism, though the hold went silent.

Akula stepped closer to the Captain, narrowing his eyes to meet his enemy’s defiance. “And where did that get you? Chained up and beaten. How does that serve your Dear Leader?”

Sum spat on Akula’s chest, keeping his head raised to gain every inch over his captor. “For evey one of you dead, I get bounty. You pigs forget Lenin’s teachings!”

Having had enough, Volk stepped forward and cracked the Korean in the mouth with a closed fist. Sum’s head snapped with the impact for a moment, before he re-asserted his proud stance. Sum glared at Volk and smiled despite the blood trickling down from a split lip.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” Orchid’s aide screamed at Volk, angrily stepping forward to get in the smaller man’s face. “Beating the prisoners isn’t part of your contract!”

Nosorog stepped forward to block the aide, grabbing him by the throat and pitching him back. Lifted from his feet, the aide stumbled back and fell, landing flat-backed on the metal deck of the transport. This gained more shouting from Orchid’s team, who scrambled up the ramp to assist their fallen comrade. One of them leveled her AK rifle at the Chechen, and Akula was quick to note the safety had been released.

When the shot rang out through the Il-76’s belly, everyone froze and clapped their hands on their ears. Some of the bound Koreans howled in pain from their ringing ears.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, ALL OF YOU!” came the pilot’s scream as the older man gingerly stepped down the metal ladder that connected the cockpit to the hold. The SR-1 pistol in the pilot’s hand clanged off the handrail as he approached. “If you idiots can’t sort this out, I’m dumping you asses off this ramp myself!”

It was then that Orchid herself came running down to the transport’s hold. “You’ll do no such thing, Arkady! I’ll have Solomon gut you for fun and I’ll fly this fucking plane myself!”

It was the first time Akula had heard her shout at someone, and her icy intensity didn’t quite translate right in higher volumes. So your venom has limits, doesn’t it Polina?

While their taskmaster and their pilot continued to argue, Nosorog leaned in to Akula, making sure he caught the team lead’s attention. With a blink-fast of his dark brown eyes, Nosorog drew Akula’s attention to the PSM pistol he’d taken after Orchid had finished berating them all. Akula gave the Chechen a quick nod of understanding, and tapped his hip pocket with his free hand. Akula had taken the same small pistol, betting the energy lost by any 7N7 rounds passing through human flesh would be enough to keep the aircraft intact if things went wrong. Will have to check if Leonid and Fyodor had the same instinct later.

The shouting match between Orchid and Arkady ended abruptly as Orchid’s sat-phone rang. She took one look at the device and stormed deeper into the transport, stomping up the ladder and out of immediate sight. Arkady shook his head, and placed the pistol back into his hip holder before looking toward Akula. “This is why I hate dealing with you mooks! No fucking respect for senority!”

And how exactly would that have helped Khrushchev or Yeltsin keep your precious Motherland safe? Akula wondered, not seeing a point in further antagonizing the man who determined how smooth their airlift was. Akula simply shrugged and turned his attention to the prisoners. Pulling down an uncushioned seat, triggered the whole row to fall in place with a clang, drawing the prisoners’ combined attention.

Akula pointed for Sum to sit. At first, the Korean refused, keeping his defiant chin up. To that refusal, Akula casually pulled a taser from his hip holster and powered it, letting the threat of impending shock push Sum down onto the seat. Even then, the Captain kept his chest proud and back straight. Seeing him seat himself, the other Koreans sat themselves down in a silent, orderly fashion.

Satisfied, Akula ensured each set of bindings was then fastened to the chains on the transport’s floor, the rest of his team coming quickly to assist. By then, Arkady had moved to the base of the ladder to observe, gaze alert for any further disturbances to give him something else to shoot. Orchid’s team, along with Pauk’s men, stood at the bottom of the ramp. Despite the obvious danger of igniting aviation fuel as the Il-76 was refueled, Pauk had a fresh cigarette in his lips, which made Akula’s memories ache for one himself.

Pauk caught Akula’s eyes on his smoke, and he flipped Akula off. “Pack your own next time, slimy fuck. Not that you’d get to keep them once you’re in Korea anyway.”

“After a month, I’ll have that bitch begging to bring me smokes.” Grizli retorted in a boastful tone. Akula knew that Orchid’s demeanor and general disregard for anyone below her sapped any chance that the Ukrainian actually found her attractive enough to fuck. But you believe he can do it, don’t you Igor? What? Can’t jack off to the thought of Bear bending her over a table?

The glaring continued as the final portion of the cargo was brought to the rear hatch, as it needed to be carried. Eight plain metal coffins, some containing mostly-intact bodies, others containing only savaged limbs, filled out the far end of the hold. As gently as a pack of sobering drunks and cheap laborers would, the containers made a wall of entombed death between the living and the outside world. Akula felt the floor shake under his boots as the ramp began to raise once more, breaking Pauk’s ability to glare at them. May the sandrats kill you quickly, bastard…

One of Orchid’s aides elbowed Akula and pointed to a wooden crate at the far end of the hold, closest to the cockpit ladder. “Your team, over there.”

“Two squads for a bunch of hand-cuffed prisoners?” Grizli countered, pointing at Captain Sum. “They follow his lead, right? First one that gets a smart idea, we just break this idiot’s fingers.”

Orchid’s aide shook his head, but said nothing else to them, going instead to talk to his own team. Akula pointed Grizli and Volk to the base of the cockpit ladder, and had Nosorog stand next to him, forming an imposing wall that boxed the prisoners against the wall of the Il-76.

“Are you happy now? You just got a fee increase! Now shut your mouth and get us back on schedule!” They all heard Orchid yell at Arkady, which was met by the pitch whine of four massive engines coming back to life. Even if they couldn’t see it, Akula could tell that edge in her voice was met by the old bastard’s smug grin of victory. Because nothing makes you angrier than being put in your place, does it, you conniving bitch?

The thought of being trapped in an airborne metal tube with over a dozen people that actively wanted them dead, and five more from Wildlife that didn’t care if they died soured Akula’s already angry temperament, and he found himself aching for a drink. By fortune or fate, the lurch of the Il-76 as it began its forward motion came with the clinking and sloshing sounds of glass bottles behind them. With one look at Nosorog, the Chechen understood, prying open the lid of a small case with his bare hands. Nosorog gave a rare smile as he pulled a gold leaf-wrapped bottle from the straw packing.

Of course the old bastard is smuggling…some traditions just don’t die. Akula mused, accepting the bottle offered and tearing the leaf off. One of Orchid’s pack, who Akula now assessed as the senior member since the man Akula and Grizli had beaten didn’t appear present, began to storm towards them. With nothing to do, Akula held the bottle out for the man to take, which he did, and then took a long swig. Handing the bottle back to Akula, the man gave the smallest nod of thanks.

“Why the fuck did you let that pig get first drink?” Nosorog growled, swirling the vodka like it was now contaminated.

“Because, when stuck in a tight space for many hours, you make the friends you can. Beating the shit out of them leaves us more work and piss-bags to manage.” Akula countered.

Only then did the Chechen notice the Il-76 had no lavatory in the hold. Instead, a metal box near the cockpit ladder was left unlatched. On it was simply written “Wastebags”.

“Fuck this…I hate flying.” Nosorog grumbled, taking another drink.

*********

Part 4 in the 2nd full contract for Akula and company, and not a pleasant start to a full years’ isolation in that most isolated nation outside the lost tribes deep in the Amazon.

This part has proven more difficult to get a feel for than I did originally, which probably comes in no small part with a complete overhaul on Act 3. Will the story pick a path and stick to it? We shall soon see.

I hope you all enjoy.

Contract 2, pts #1, #2, #3