at home, Vadim Petrovich?" The Colonel handed him
an official looking letter, which had been opened. They
hadn't even taped it back up.
play dumb. Take it."
took the letter, opened it, saw Katya had filed for
divorce. The address was in Budapest. C/o somebody he
remembered. The fencer. Szandor who had been one of
the few lovers he'd had. Proper ones. Good choice. Szandor
would rather let himself be ripped apart than allow
anything bad coming to her. Gentleman fencer, slightly
effeminate, which the papers had called 'old school
dandyism'. He looked up into the Colonel's face, who
didn't show any expression.
wife filed for divorce."
The Colonel stood, both hands still on the desk. "Tell
me, Vadim Petrovich? You seemed very much the family
man to me."
none of your fucking business, raged a small voice
in Vadim's mind. You can't control everything I do,
every breath I take, every decision, including whom
I fuck, whom I love. I did my duty, didn't I? "There
was a disagreement."
The Colonel seemed bemused.
inhaled sharply, and gave a nod. Once. "She was
being a bitch, with all due respect, comrade Colonel.
Spoilt, and unfaithful." He pressed his lips together,
needed to summon memories to act the part of the wronged
husband who'd lost his patience.
why didn't you teach her a lesson and her lover, too?"
The Colonel's eyes narrowed. "You should be resourceful
enough for that." He straightened and came around
the table. "To clarify, Vadim Petrovich, I find
it hard to respect a man who doesn't have his family
under control. It's part of his private life, and an
officer with a chaotic private life loses his anchor.
I can't have a man with responsibilities just float
out onto the sea because of his wife." He was close
enough for Vadim to smell his breath. "I believe
in men controlling every aspect of their lives. That
includes the wife and children."
swallowed dryly, blanked his mind so nothing of his
loathing and anger showed in his eyes. "Yes, comrade
expect you to clean up this mess. This doesn't reflect
well on you. Or us." The Colonel gave him one of
his trademark stares, then dismissed him with a motion
of his hand as if he was about to bitchslap him. Vadim
managed not to flinch.
still signed the papers, once he was in his office.
Who could know what the Colonel implied. Clean up his
private life? He'd do that. All he had to make sure
was that Katya and the children got out and were safe.
he had to tread ever so carefully. The Colonel on his
tail was the last thing he needed, and even though he'd
been seeing Dan regularly - as regularly as he could
make it - he worked hard to appear like a man without
much of a life. One that was determined to make Colonel
himself in a failing state, one so eager for the goodwill
of his superiors that he had no will of his own.
had told him the Baroness would help him, would organise
everything for changing sides. He assumed they had to
run a check on him first, and he dreaded the visit in
London coming up in their search. Leaving his country
only to be incarcerated for murder? The irony. He'd
come close several times to confess the story, tell
Dan, but Dan seemed to hope for a better future in a
way that Vadim didn't manage. Britain likely didn't
forgive hitmen, least of all those that had been offered
a chance to defect and hadn't.
was all hanging in the balance and in the void, not
quite letting go one side, and not quite gripping onto
the other side was more of a mental strain than Vadim
had anticipated. He found himself staring at his paperwork
when he was supposed to approve things and issue orders,
and his mind only knew that once frantic dance: When?
sneaked out when possible, manoeuvring like a chased
rabbit, feeling the stare of the hunter in his mind,
and met Dan to check on him while he was healing and
steadily gaining strength, exchange kisses and vows,
tender sex until Dan was back to strength, and Vadim
felt too petrified to make any plans yet, even though
Dan sometimes did. Dan told him about his home, how
he'd show Vadim places he called lochs and glens, how
they'd be in the highlands, and of that castle on the
mountain above Edinburgh. Dread mixed with hope. Eating
at his soul, his strength, while he hoped for one thing
he couldn't force: mercy from the enemy.
moved on, during which Dan worked ceaselessly on his
strength. Doing every exercise he could, only held back
by the nurse on occasion, keeping him from overdoing
the work on his body, until she, too, left. Time passed,
through late autumn and winter, and Dan was getting
more desperate every time he spoke to the Baroness,
asking if there were new developments in helping the
Major to defect. Nothing, though, no final decision.
No 'yes', and not even the dreaded 'no'. Complications,
she explained to him, refusing to elaborate on exactly
what those complications were. Foreign Office, immigration,
government and internal security, and whoever else might
be involved in the business of offering refuge to a
Dan had asked for her help she had agreed readily, surprising
him with her lack of questions and objections. He knew
she was working on trying to get a deal for Vadim, but
what did he have to offer? The question kept churning
in Dan's mind, while the worries grew. Who was Vadim,
of what importance was he, and what did he know? Not
much, so why should Britain want him as defector, and
take any risks? Vadim was nothing but a small fish in
a big pond of upheavals in the Eastern European politics.
came, and Vadim told Dan that he had received and signed
the divorce papers, but that was all he knew. Katya
and he had talked, back in autumn, when during Vadim's
R&R in Moscow. Dan never lost the niggling doubt
that there was somehow more, but he gave up prying a
long time ago.
was cold over New Year, as freezing a winter as it had
always been and Dan's duties mostly consisted of staying
inside, with the occasional foray into the outdoors,
once he was fit again. Guarding the lady ambassador
whenever she had dinners, soirees, matinees, and whatever
other fancy shit they called those functions. He was
bored, the goddamned small talk, genteel faces and polite
manners around him just didn't feel right. In the beginning
he had relished the luxury and the ease of his job,
yet it began to wear on him, the more desperate he became
for news on Vadim's status, and if he was granted political
asylum before the last soldiers of the Soviet forces
were pulled out of Afghanistan.
passed and then February made its way into the year,
with almost all of the troops out of the country, and
still no news, despite the Baroness' endeavours.
time had come, Dan could feel it in his blood, drilling
down into his bones and rushing into his lungs. He could
sense it in every cell, and taste it in the wind that
blew snow and dust up his nostrils. Smelling the scent
of finality, and cutting himself on the serrated, rusty
blade of The End.
didn't need to be told, nor had to read the news. He
already knew the Glorious Soviet Army had pulled its
tail between its legs and was leaving the country. Beaten,
defeated. There were no winners in this war, and he
dreaded the day Vadim received his marching orders.
up after a too long day, Vadim crossed the mostly empty
barracks. The air of frustration, of tiredness, of worn
out minds and hearts was palpable, and he felt nothing,
only drained. Ten years of his life. Many people dead,
displaced, many conscripts forever haunted by this place,
and what an extravagant waste of time and effort. Making
sure the small wheels turned, learning how to wage war
in a country where all the odds were staked against
paused, stood there in front of the placard.
the grateful Afghan people to the Soviet brothers.
now? He had no idea. No idea at all who would be wielding
power here. If there was power to be wielded, and Afghanistan
not just a waste of everything. He kept the piece of
paper in the front pocket.
too, would be gone. He could feel the unease, the shudders
of tectonic shifts in Moscow. Growing unrest in Europe.
The ice was thawing, and made everything treacherous.
Things were moving. He had no idea where they'd send
him. To Moscow, first, with the rest of his unit. And
after that? There were enough places where he expected
his head, he moved on, towards the place in Kabul. He
was pale and silent when he closed the door behind him,
bringing the February frost with him into the room.
turned round, he had been in the main room, doing
nothing. Just standing, flexing his knackered hand around
scissored steel, building muscles and strength. Something
to do while deliberately not thinking.
Dan never finished his greeting. He could see it in
the other's face, knew it from his stance and understood
each unspoken word from every movement.
pulled the ushanka off, began to unbutton the greatcoat.
He couldn't look at Dan now, his own mind blank, a dark
place with hectic movement that made no sense. Run away?
Where to? Disobey? How? "Monday." He shook
his head. "Already. I can't ... imagine not being
Dan dropped the device, swivelled around. "That's
four days." Impossible, it couldn't be. There was
not enough time left, they had never had enough time
in the first place.
Vadim felt defeated. It was becoming a habit. In war,
in his private life, in love, too?
is trying, I know she is, but there is something that's
cropped up and that I cannot make any sense of. Something
about security issues, complications, but I'm not told
what it is. They are vetting still, but there is something
they are worried about, something that is holding up
the process. They just don't believe that you are genuine,
shook his head. He'd never been more genuine. He'd had
more control with Dan's muzzle between his teeth, on
his knees, hurting, expecting to be executed. This feeling
was worse. He'd be destroyed by a force he couldn't
see nor fight.
stepped close, until his chest touched Vadim's, which
made Vadim look up again. "It's because you are
fucking Spetsnaz, isn't it?" Anger blazing in his
eyes, fuelled by nothing but desperation. "And
you're more than that, aren't you?"
Spetsgruppa Vympel. Killers, assassins, counter-terrorists.
Strike the counter. They'd kept him there to strike,
every now and then, so they had a man in Kabul, kept
him in waiting like a mole, used him like any other
officer to do his duty. Keeping him ready in case he
was expected to storm the presidential palace again.
"A special detachment."
nodded. He'd always known, but he didn't want to hear
anymore. "You cannot leave." His voice was
suddenly quiet, and he felt as if each word turned into
death. "You cannot, Vadim." Shaking
his head, his hands digging into the other's shoulders.
"You might never return from behind the Iron Curtain,
no matter how much the East is falling apart."
think it could be Eastern Europe next. I speak some
German, remember?" Vadim's face twitched, it hurt
badly to think about it, worse to accept the facts.
Out in the cold. Defeated. Dan did not yet see that
there was no place to run. "Fuck, hold me."
arms moved around Vadim, he had his strength back, and
was holding him with all that he ever was and ever would
be. "No." As if his refusal changed anything.
"You've got to get out of there." Hopelessness
was worse than anything, even that night in Kabul, nine
years ago. Desperation, and the deepest darkness. It
couldn't be, there had to be another option. "Something,
" Pressing the other's body
to his, two men, once enemies, now equals - lovers.
"There must be something." Dan whispered,
but he was no fool.
... just can't think", said Vadim, fighting the
despair. Not resourceful, war-weary, drained, bleached
out, unable to tap the strength he'd once possessed,
the anger, the cunning bastard spetsnaz seemed so far
away. "Maybe ... wait. Till I get posted somewhere
else. Maybe I can get to a British embassy if they've
made up their minds."
that would work." Dan couldn't think of anything
else. Nothing except for desolation. It couldn't end
like this. Just ... over. Vadim divorced, free from
that woman and her children, away from family and anything
that would keep him from being with him. "You're
mine." Whispered, beginning to kiss along jaw and
down the neck. "You're mine, not anyone else's."
Lips, teeth nipping, tasting skin. "Not even Mother
Russia's. You're mine."
groaned at the touch, the pledges again, vows, ownership,
caring, claiming him when he felt detached from anything,
everything, hanging in the void. Dan pulled him in.
Anchored him. Secured him, like one mountain climber
the other, rope and irons and nothing but the abyss
if the rope failed. "It'll work. I haven't got
this far to give up. Fuck Moscow."
will work." Dan's kisses grew more intense. "It
must." Because you are mine, and you belong to
we survived and we will continue surviving.
was Sunday, the last day. The final day.
last supper and all of that, but Dan was not a believing
man. Instead he had pleaded, searched, gambled and finally
found a room in the best hotel in Kabul. The last one
standing throughout the war that offered a modicum of
luxury. Vast bed, bathroom, proper hot running water
and clean sheets.
Baroness knew where he was, had even helped in finding
the place, as covert an operation as possible.
was waiting for Vadim, like a condemned man, a prisoner
in that hotel room, waiting for his execution. The morning
would come too soon, and it would be over, except for
the hope that somehow, someday, Vadim could make it
sat on the bed, waiting. They had until dawn, eight
make a mistake on the last night. We need you, Vadim
Petrovich', the Colonel had said, and smiled at him,
as Vadim had turned down the invitation to eat and drink.
The officers left in style, getting pissed on the last
night away from home. Vadim had politely declined the
company. He'd be fucked if he wasted his time with those
he took the other invitation. The one that would carve
out his heart and make it tonight's dinner. He was aching
inside, a pain that told him it was, indeed, love. He'd
known it, said it, confessed to it, but now that it
all was at risk again, maybe for years, maybe forever,
the pain was so keen that he knew it was the real thing.
Only the real thing could hurt so much.
up, he admonished himself. Don't fucking make this a
funeral. It wasn't. It was a start. Rapped on the door,
pulled up his shoulders, and forced his lips into a
door's open." Dan stood up, hand hovering close
to the small of his back. Despite knowing who had knocked,
the pistol was never far away. He'd lived in luxury
- and mostly in peace for the last two years, but old
instincts died hard.
entered, carefully, closed the door after slipping in.
Hadn't had any chance to shed the Soviet uniform, everything
else in his room in the barracks was packed and ready
to go. His books. Presents for friends and family. Photos
of dead and departed comrades. Dima's address. The medic
had told him to be in touch, and Vadim had sent tentative
letters. Told him what was going on, while Dima served
in the Caucasus. He might become a friend, over the
years, if Vadim managed to keep the contact alive. Lesha
was still a friend. They were in touch, because Lesha
had sent the first letter and told him to answer it
- now that the contact was established again, reasoned
Lesha, it would be too much of a shame to let it slip
right here." Dan's lips curved into a smile he
did not feel. He had really groomed this time. Standing
in his best clothes, the string of prayer beads wound
around the wrist of his fucked but functional hand.
Hair washed and brushed, gleaming. Wild, still, too
long as always, but he knew how much Vadim liked that.
Freshly shaved, above and below, and he'd even tried
not to smoke too much, so as not to taste and smell
of nicotine. Food and drink stood on a table nearby,
exquisite snacks, provided by the embassy, and the best
vodka and whisky, together with a bottle of wine from
the Baroness' personal stash.
looked over the feast and smiled. "Ah, good, I
haven't eaten much today." He pulled gloves off
his hands, cast them onto the nightstand, the ushanka
followed, running his hand over his shorn hair. "Our
two man party, Dan?"
wanted to scream, or kill and maim. He was still SAS,
inside, and as a soldier, he would keep going on. Until
the final day, when it was all over. 'Never give up,
He tried that smile again, but it threatened to falter.
"We've got eight hours, I thought we'd better make
the most of it."
shed the greatcoat, hung it up on a hook near the door,
then paused. "Dan ... promise me one thing? Will
you bite and fuck me so hard I'll still feel you in
Dan's bravado faltered, and with a couple of steps he
crossed the distance, arms around Vadim, pressing his
lips against the other's, murmuring, "Anything.
Fuck, anything you want from me."
pressed him close, just kissing him so hard it hurt,
but he didn't care when all he could feel in his heart
was a raw, throbbing pain like from amputation. "I
want ..." He forced their lips apart, placed bites
on Dan's chin, down the soft flesh between throat and
chin. "I want you to fuck me as hard and deep as
you can." Leaving red traces, bite marks with every
movement, hand going to Dan's groin, pressing him through
the cloth. "I want you to tell me how it feels
fucking me, and ask me if I can feel you deep enough.
I want to feel you in every joint of my body, with all
your power, I want to hurt, and I want you to come inside
me. Then ..." He grinned, feeling the reaction
his words had on Dan, the grin that of a predator, "Then
I'll make you feel my pain. I'll have you, Dan, and
if you scream, that's good because that's what I want
to hear. I want to hear you scream my name while I press
you into that mattress over there. I don't care tonight.
Tonight I want all your pain, and all your lust. Do
you copy, soldier?"
Dan groaned, shuddering under touch, bites and possessive
words. Insanity, and it was just what they needed. "Nine
years, and you'll feel all of them tonight." He
was steering towards the bed, while working on getting
Vadim out of his uniform. How he hated the cloth that
had become more familiar than his own uniform had ever
been; how he loathed the sight. It was the uniform which
would take Vadim away, that, and the Soviet people.
Mother Russian was in his eyes a fucked-up aging whore,
scrabbling to keep her sons and former lovers around
her on her death bed.
felt the bed against the backs of his calves and grinned,
helping Dan to shed the tunic and shirt, cast away everything,
undershirt, watch, only leaned down to get rid of the
boots, felt Dan's hands pull down his trousers, and
was hard already. Fell down on the bed, moved to get
in the middle of it, grinning up, stroking himself while
watching Dan undress.
had never got himself out of his clothes that quickly
before. Tore at his shirt, threw it into a corner, belt,
trousers, boots, socks, all in a jumble, discarded.
His body groomed: shaved, scrubbed, smoothed, as if
he were the last meal himself.
eyes were wide, staring at Dan, his lover, bared
like that, trusting him, prepared for him, how he liked
him. "Come here", Vadim murmured, throat suddenly
crawled between Vadim's legs, one arm on either side
of the other's head, looking down. "Do you know
what you look like when you lie like this? Do you know
what it does to me?" His cock answered his own
question, but still he asked, eyes darker than ever.
do the same to me
" Vadim ran his fingers
up Dan's arms, traced the lines of muscle that stood
out, up to his pecs, down towards his abs.
you are like this, Vadim, I want to own you, and taste
you, burrow all the way into your body until I feel
so much it fucking hurts in every fibre, and your scent
clings to every pore. I want to hurt you, tear you apart,
fuck you until you plead and scream and bleed, and all
that, because I can never get enough of you." Dan's
breath caught in his throat, allowing himself to feel.
Anything, and all of it. "You're in my blood, Vadim,
and I want you to bleed for me again, tonight."
gave a groan, the words, the images, the promise. Bleed.
Hurt. Pain. Owning. Never enough. Lust welled up,
washed the pain away, if only for a moment, he knew
it would return, and he knew that whatever pain Dan
would give him, would help him deal with that other
pain. He stared up into those manic and hurt dark eyes,
and nodded. "Make me bleed. I want to taste my
blood on your lips so I know I'll live."
live. Vadim's eyes strayed, for a moment, towards
where he'd left the pistol. Suddenly, suicide was an
option. Fuck their hearts and minds out, then swear
a suicide pact. It would just end. It would end on a
good note, and after that, nothing. Not being apart,
ever again. No suffering, no pain. He was willing to
do it. He was perfectly capable of that. Then he looked
back into Dan's eyes, and his hands touched the scars
on his abdomen. Dan, torn up, Dan suffering, Dan, weak
and human like any other casualty. He was willing to
die, but he wanted Dan to live. He felt an embarrassing
wetness come up in his eyes and forced it down.
hand suddenly moved, covered Vadim's hand on his abdomen,
pressing closer, hard, until fingers dug into scars
and flesh. His weight unbalanced, he spread his legs
further, while swooping down. "You'll remember
tonight." Teeth digging into soft flesh of neck
and throat, right above the cigarette burn. The bite
answered by a drawn-out groan. "You'll remember
to my last breath. Last bullet. Last thought."
moving, cursing, loving, whispering, Dan had no conscious
idea what he was doing, nor why, nor how. Didn't know
if he was even audible. "You'll wear me on your
skin, and in return I'll carry you in my flesh."
it." Daring Dan, daring himself, daring the whole
fucking world with this, complete freedom in destruction
and pain if they could have nothing else, they'd take
this. Vadim felt an odd, fierce pride at this thought.
was biting, then, along jaw and throat, down to shoulders
and chest. His body came down, crushing both their hands
between their bodies, trapping their cocks.
moved against Dan, free hand on the last curve of his
spine, above the ass, pressing him in with all his strength,
and pushing up to grind against him, already dizzy with
lust, stoked with pain. All he wanted was to burn to
nothing. Could feel the bite marks throb and heat his
skin further, knew he'd look bad, but didn't care. The
Afghan sweetheart was one fierce bitch.
Dan looked up his eyes were on fire, the almost black
eyes of a madman, and the madness was nothing but pain.
Pain and fear; fear of ever more pain, because this
was it, the last time, the final time, no matter how
hard he tried to hope. "Do you remember the first
blow job? Do you remember the knife?" He came up,
lifted away from the friction to sit on his heels. "Do
you remember all of the last nine years?"
nodded, pressing his lips together. He'd never forget
that fear, another guilty pleasure because it could
still arouse him, the memory of it. Spread out for the
kill, mind fucked, while Dan tried out how to drive
him insane. He managed to speak, finally: "The
only thing that means anything", he whispered.
"You. Our time."
was reaching forward, searched beneath the pillow and
pulled out his favourite knife. Old paranoid habits
died hard, and sometimes they came in handy. "This
time it'll be for real." He pressed the blade against
his own chest, skin warming up steel, becoming a part
of himself. "Spread your legs, Vadim. Open up for
real? Knife? Vadim flushed, lust stronger than any fear.
Whatever Dan planned. Cut him, gut him, he didn't care,
was too far gone, too desperate, too much in love and
lust. He nodded, hoped Dan would read from it he was
ready for anything, then pushed his legs apart, brought
the knees up. Hands reached up for the pillow, stretched
now, chest and stomach taut. Whatever happened, he'd
never regret this. Dan did it, that meant it was all
good. And it wasn't about dying, not anymore. Never
don't need a whole word this time." Dan murmured
hoarsely, transfixed on Vadim's body. How it lay open,
as if for slaughter, trusting him with his sanity and
his life. "Don't move. Whatever happens."
His left hand came to rest on the inside of Vadim's
thigh. Fingers splayed as they pressed into the muscle
until the skin was pulled taut. "You're still my
pizda, my cunt
," quiet voice, Dan's throat
felt oddly constricted, "but 'cunt' means lover."
know." Vadim kept his eyes on the tip of the knife.
He hadn't just accepted to be cut? Had he? He remembered
the pain on his back, and it had been agony. Agony and
a lifetime of shame. He brought his hands back down
and cupped his knee in his hand, steadying it in case
the pain would be too bad. Felt himself begin to sweat.
knife came down, once more, after nine years, the circle
was closing as the blade started to cut into highly
sensitive, smooth flesh. Away from the artery, but as
close to cock and balls, and as much hidden from view,
as Dan could manage. Razor-sharp steel cutting the first
line into the flesh. Deep enough to scar, deep enough
to mean it.
groaned with clenched teeth, the pain was keen, keen
and clear, sharp, and it made his cock jump. He'd have
expected himself faltering, but the lust was just as
steady as his grip. No, it grew. Just the place, the
very lethal possibility, and that close to his balls.
He breathed the pain down, accepted it.
could hardly breathe, his cock so hard, he felt it throbbing,
close to pain. Again, the blade moved, lines filling
with blood, making Vadim groan once more, pain and lust
mixing in that sound, and a shudder raced through the
one letter, it was all Dan needed, and it would stay
with Vadim forever. "You're mine." He whispered,
the last cut, blood red against pale flesh. He suddenly
dove down, tongue lapping and lips moving across the
Cyrillic letter that stood for all of 'mine'.
hissed, arching up, half expecting Dan to swallow him,
but he didn't, instead the sucking in a more intimate
place, if that was possible. His blood. Wanted that
blowjob that had been part of the deal last time, and
gave a grin, nodding, accepting all this without questioning
- knowing what Dan had 'written'. "Yours."
much as I am yours." When Dan came up his lips
were smeared with blood, pressing the knife into Vadim's
hand. Tit for tat this time. No more battles. "Cut
rolled onto the side, the bite of the wound constant,
but he didn't care. "I want them to see it",
he murmured, grinning, and Dan simply nodded and kneeled.
No protest, only complete submission. For once.
moved out from under Dan, hypnotised by his bloodied
lips. Better than cum. He moved to kiss Dan's neck,
the taut shoulder, and put the blade against Dan's powerful
biceps. Where any uniform bore the flag. Pressing the
steel in, with a moment of resistance, but the blade
was fucking sharp and went slowly in, and blood began
hissed, eyes closing for a moment while his hands clenched
into fists, tensing until every muscle in his body stood
out. It hurt, but it seemed right that his cock jumped.
Despite the pain of the marking, or because of it. No
licked his lips, pulled the blade back, and placed the
tip at the lower end of the cut, pushed it into the
wound and pulled it back up, forming the English letter
'V', point towards the left elbow, while Dan shuddered,
breathing harshly and fast, to deal with the pain. His
blood dripped onto the bed and stained the white sheets.
Vadim dipped down, licking the blood from Dan's hand,
up to where the wound was.
turned his head, he couldn't see, but he didn't have
to ask, had felt the blade and only one letter could
form a meaning with two diagonal strokes. "I wear
you on my skin." He murmured, hoarsely, while watching
Vadim, "and I want to fuck myself into your body.
Until I can go no further, until you are so sore and
used, your arsehole will never be tight again. Will
never again accept another man, like you accepted me."
swallowed blood and spit, grinned with stained teeth.
"Can't have anybody take me. You won me when you
broke me, but that's it. Won't have it. Nobody else's
bitch." He grew a touch more serious, leaned in
for the kiss, mixing blood and taste again, hands digging
into Dan's mane.
clashed, Dan tasted metal and blood, the kiss nothing
but furious. A rage that came from a depth he'd never
encountered before. Hands clawing, arms holding, then
pushing, blood smearing across their bodies, staining
the sheets. Two 'enemies', and both the same colour,
their blood. Red - for the Soviet Union - for Britain.
Red in both their flags.
balance, Dan landed on top, across Vadim's body, while
he kissed and bit, mauled in return. Pain burning in
so many places, it helped to forget and would help to
eyes flared with lust, baring his teeth in part grin,
part snarl, the constant pain a reminder of the knife,
of the trust. He'd get bandaged up later. Clean up and
bandage, and remember. It was all about remembering.
It made perfect sense.
couldn't speak, could only search for the lube on the
bedside table. Blood made a goddamned useless lubricant,
despite running down Vadim's thighs, coating his arse.
They had spilled enough of it throughout their lives
to know it would do nothing but turn sticky.
knelt on the bed, sat back on his heels, felt the mess
trickle down his leg, and glanced at the cuts. Clean.
Not gaping, but not shallow, either. Idly touched his
cock, watching Dan's stretched out body, and grinned
to himself. Understanding, a connection so deep nobody
could sever it. Not a year or two. He'd find a way,
he'd made it this far. He'd find this man.
lube was no sooner in Dan's hand before he worked it
into Vadim. Rough, no time for niceties, he was going
to fuck that man as if he were invincible. Fingers coated
with blood, lube, spit and precum, he knelt behind the
arse that he'd possessed many times and would never
get enough of. "You should see yourself."
pride of the Soviet Union, special forces, officer of
the Soviet Army. Vadim bit back a laugh. Fuck all that.
He'd never been more himself than feeling the blood
seep into the mattress. Love and war. All the same.
At least, this was his cause.
murmured hoarsely, "You should know what it does
to me." Vadim's hips in a vice grip, leaving fingerprints
of blood. His cock poised right there, at the ring of
muscle, yet nothing tense or resisting about he body
beneath his hands.
closed his eyes. No mockery, Dan didn't mock him. Dan
meant it, every word and every touch. He curved his
back, pushed out his ass, towards the heat he craved.
pressed forward, bit back a cry when he breached through
and buried himself inside. Deep, deeper, until he could
go no further, with Vadim shuddering and groaning at
the feeling, the burn, yes, but even worse, the lust.
Vadim's mind blanked when he heard Dan speak. "I
feel you." Dan groaned out, pulled back, barely
inside. "I fucking feel you!" Rammed forward,
with all his strength, all of his pain and brutality.
With all that goddamned motherfucking love and lust
that was killing him now.
felt every muscle tense, his guts knot up with pain
and need, lust, the pleasure to be hurt and used and
needed, of finally getting what he'd wanted all day.
Like coming up for air before a long dive in dark water.
He would have to get all he could to make it. Intense
enough to die for it, if he had to.
you feel me?"
to my heart", murmured Vadim, and gave another
groan, willingly, wanted Dan to know just how right
it was, how good it felt, and grinned with tender irony
at his own thought. Dan knew. Dan could read it in everything.
Clenching around him, glancing over his shoulder, grinning.
A challenge, of sorts, even if it hurt, it was supposed
to hurt to spike the pleasure he felt. Pushed back against
Dan, inviting him for more, could feel him deep inside,
that impossible, smooth heat. "Nobody else. Feels
like this", he murmured, breathless. "Nobody
match me. You have me. Always have.
Dan murmured, breathless. Pulled out, slowing, posed.
"No. Never." Then lost all words, let his
body lose, and fucked Vadim. Fucked him as merciless
and as brutal as he had wanted. Fucked death and fear
and loss out of both of them. Fucked so hard, his cock
was sore and his muscles aching. Concentrated on the
pain in his body, the bite of the wound, and the slickness
of blood, to hold himself back. Fucked so long, until
he thought there was no more oxygen left in the room
and his lungs were burning, letting out sounds akin
to a tortured animal.
bled into pain, pain into lust, all of Vadim's strength
used up just withstanding the fierce onslaught, sore,
yes, hurting, drenched in sweat, taking every bit of
pain and converting it into lust. Shuddering with exhaustion,
Vadim couldn't think, washed away in the sensation,
allowing all of this to happen, his own fierceness demanding
everything Dan could give, until it was close to suffering.
mine, mine!" Dan still hadn't touched Vadim's cock,
and the strain was becoming unbearable. "You're
mine. Come for me. Come. For. Me!"
Vadim protested, couldn't come, not without help, didn't
have the balance, and wanted something else. "I
against him, gritting his teeth against the pain as
he slammed back against Dan. "Fucking do it!"
He'd have Dan, alright, but on the same terms.
answer caused a final lurch, and Dan let go, the knowledge
of getting paid back, matched stride for stride, with
every bit of pain and strength, crashed him over the
edge and he was cursing in English and Russian when
he came. Deep inside of Vadim's body, shuddering, thrusting
erratically, until he wanted to break down, his whole
body trembling with the exertion.
groaned, determined to remember that - how Dan sounded,
what it felt like - and shifted his weight, reaching
for Dan's flank as he moved, pulling away, legs shaky,
whole body unsteady, needed to come, and wanted to crash.
Saw Dan collapse, spreading his legs, stretched out
on the bed, as he usually was.
reached for the lube, rubbed it between his hands, cool
against the sweaty hot skin, and moved over to straddle
Dan's thighs, rubbed the lube into the spread ass. It
would hurt, very likely, even though he'd never last
as long as Dan had, which was probably a small mercy.
breathed into the blood stained sheets, heart still
beating wildly, breath still struggling after the exertion,
but his hips lifted towards Vadim, and his legs opened
wider. He'd hurt like fuck, he'd just come, but he didn't
care. Wanted Vadim to take him, fuck him, like he'd
done it before. It had to be equal. Pain for pain, blood
for blood, and their cum deep inside the other's body.
saw the hands left and right of Dan's body, and remembered
something. A dark place in his heart, a memory that
never failed. He took Dan's wrists, who simply allowed
it, and stretched to get at the scarf, crossed the wrists
behind the back, and tied them, without any protest.
knew and understood, and he accepted. Nine years, and
a memory that had changed him, altered the fundamental
elements of himself, rearranged every molecule of his
being. Things he could -, or no longer could do, and
things he could not forget. And that was why he merely
flexed his muscles, closed his eyes, felt his body begin
to struggle, enough to make it worth Vadim's while,
and his own. While breathing in the scent of blood,
sweat and cum.
pushed Dan's ass cheeks apart, leaning in to enter him,
lowered his weight at the same time as he thrust forward,
hissing, too close, too fucking close to perfect, and
paused, working hard to compose himself. Keep control,
to an extent, only to make it last, not to take care
of Dan. Pushing against a body that had a mind of its
own, that never just accepted this, always tightened,
always struggled until it finally broke in the best
feeling of the world. Covering Dan as he was inside,
felt Dan's hands dig into his stomach, sliding a little
deeper, knew it had to hurt like a bitch when he heard
Dan's scream, muffled by teeth dug into the sheets.
Summoned what strength he had left, to move, fierce,
deep thrusts, powerful, no accommodation there, no finding
of a rhythm, just breaching and using the helpless body,
like he had done back then. He shook his head, brought
his lips up to Dan's ear, breathing into it as he struggled
for words. "You're perfect, Dan. I can feel your
didn't answer, mouth filled with bloodied fabric, but
his eyes were wide open. Nostrils flaring with his frantic
breathing, and fuck, it hurt, hurt just like the memory,
but this time for different reasons. It was what he
needed, the fighting, the violent thrashing against
the overpowering weight and strength. And most of all
the illusion that he was helpless. Perfect. Fucking
perfect, even those tears of pain, creating damp patches
on the soiled bed. Everything, simply perfect.
had come back full circle.
simply couldn't last that long, used the struggle and
pain, used Dan in a way that would have been impossible
otherwise, he wouldn't have allowed this. Dan would
never have accepted this, a strange farewell present
of sorts, another vow written on the other's body. Vadim
bit into Dan's shoulder, hard, and sped up, much like
a quick, frantic rape in the barracks, the same kind
of breathing, the same speed and darkness, but with
layers upon layers of meaning. Not just a body. He could
feel Dan break underneath, like glass under a boot heel,
splinter, accept against every instinct in his body,
and fucked harder, and finally came, wincing with his
own exhaustion and soreness, while Dan's body was shaking
pulled out, and rolled to the side, facing Dan, reached
for his head, and pulled him close, still tied up, kissed
his sweaty forehead, ran his hands through the mane
of wet hair, licked sweat off his temple. Reluctant
to untie him.
fuck." Dan murmured, eyes closed now. Just lay,
hurting, the pain was travelling through the core of
his body, and yet it was right. Like it was meant to
be. He didn't move, not even a twitch of a muscle, more
passive than he had ever been in all those nine years;
in all of his life. This was it, the last night, no
more hours, no 'next time', and he simply let himself
be touched and kissed, his body relaxing completely
and his mind accepting. Everything. Suddenly understanding
the nature of submission.
just couldn't stop touching him, idly stroked his shoulder
and back as he shifted to lie as close to Dan as possible
without actually embracing him - he lacked the strength
to do that. They were both a mess now. For once in a
nice place, and they ruined the covers. He chuckled
get cleaned up. I guess."
Thought about it, slowly, mind hardly responding to
any efforts he made. "Bandages. I think. Ah, fuck."
Dan dragged his eyes open, blinking at Vadim. Bandages?
Oh, yes, the pain. The blood. "Aye." Bandages
where the fuck
Dan's mind didn't want
to do his bidding, lost in a state where every muscle,
from the inside out, was completely relaxed. "Don't
want to move. No bandages. Not bothered." His eyes
fell shut again, ignoring the blood that was seeping
out of the cut on his arm, dropping onto the sheets
and adding to the mess. It would stop bleeding, soon
enough. "Hold me."
gave a tired grin, shifted his cut leg - anything touching
that hurt like a motherfucker - and turned to lie on
his side, one arm under Dan's head, hand between his
shoulder blades, the other in the small of his back,
too exhausted to press, push, or pull, touching his
forehead to Dan's, and breathing in his breath. "Where
will you go? How can I find you, Dan?"
Baroness," Dan murmured. Felt sleep dragging him
under, caused by total exhaustion. "You can always
find me through the Embassy." He began to mumble,
could hardly string the few words coherently together.
He knew he had no chance to find Vadim, and could do
nothing but hope to be found. "Maggie
Trailed off. Despite the pain and the discomfort of
his position, still bound, he had fallen asleep.
smiled, dog tired himself, but there was the itch and
pain from the cut, and his body seemed to think he should
better be awake because he was wounded. He sighed, content
and relaxed, but still awake, having Dan close like
this - another memory he'd keep for the time that came
after. They'd gone through months and months of being
alone, but maybe it got harder the older they got. More
aware of time. He wouldn't waste any. There had to be
a way to get to Europe, the way that continent became
restless promised plenty of disorientation, and that
meant he could slip through the cracks that would open.
All a question of timing, like storming a house.
fell into a shallow rest, not quite sleep, still awareness,
the constant burn on his thigh a nuisance that kept
him awake. He'd walk funny indeed tomorrow. Could always
claim it was his lower back that gave him trouble. He
let go of Dan, rolled onto his back, stared at the ceiling,
thinking, until his lids became too heavy.
more than an hour, if that, and Dan woke out of the
exhaustion. Bereft of touch, and most of all, in so
much discomfort, he didn't know where all the goddamned
pain came from. All over, stiffness, tried to move his
arms, shoulders protesting, until the soreness in his
arse brought back all of the memories. He woke with
a start, trying to peer at the clock. Hardly six hours
left, two of the precious eight were already gone. He
tried to speak, croaked, cleared his throat laboriously.
"Vadim." Nudging the other with his forehead,
touching the shoulder.
turned his head, drifted closer to the surface now and
was awake. He smiled, seeing Dan like this was good,
the way his shoulders changed because his hands were
bound. He placed his hand against Dan's face, and leaned
in to kiss him. "Aye?"
hurt like a motherfucker." Murmured against Vadim's
lips, Dan was shifting between a smile and a grin. "Hungry.
Gagging for a fag. Sore. Sticky. Aching. Dirty. Stiff,
and bloody trussed up like a roast chicken." Lifting
his dark eyes, they seemed to ask what his Russkie was
going to do about all of that.
grinned back at him. "Shower first?" He took
Dan's shoulders, lifted him a bit, then pulled the pliant
body with him towards the edge of the bed and helped
get the fucking bondage off me." Dan mildly protested,
disgruntled, but he moved when prodded.
Vadim winced as the cuts on his thighs opened again
and he felt more blood run down his leg. The bed looked
like a battlefield without corpses, red marks and pink
shadows of stains, and Vadim laughed. "I guess
virginhood is proven." He shook his head. Just
fucking funny." Dan couldn't quite stop a grin
at the sight of carnage. Whatever the future would bring,
they'd never forget this night and they'd carry the
hours with them, carved into their skin.
led Dan towards the bathroom, stepped under the shower
first, to make sure the temperature was right, then
helped Dan step in as well. "Face wall."
do realise this would be a hell of a lot easier if you
simply untied me." Grumped, yet Dan did as he was
told, standing with legs braced under the spray, hissing
when hot water hit the cuts on his biceps. Bowing his
head, the heat began to soothe the ache in the rest
of his body.
to see you like this. Touch you like this." Vadim
found the shower gel the hotel provided, and ran the
washcloth under the water, then poured shower gel in
and rubbed the cloth to build up some suds. Began to
wash Dan, starting with his neck, tracing the lines
of muscle, above all, feeling him, alive, warm, powerful
despite his predicament. Soaped up his back, then reached
around for his chest and pecs, cleaning him up.
kinky bastard." Dan flexed his hands and arms,
the bondage pulled his shoulders back, making every
muscle stand out in intriguing ways.
you like it, too." Vadim grinned and bit gently
into Dan's shoulder. "What does this make us, then?"
dry huff was Vadim's answer, and a minute shiver that
ghosted across Dan's body. "Two kinky bastards,
I guess." He kept his eyes closed beneath the curtain
of his wet, dark hair. Unthinkable, all those years
ago, to trust his 'enemy' with his life, and most of
all his sanity.
knelt down, gritting his teeth against the pain, and
cleaned up Dan's legs, cock, ass, smiling as he did
that, and glanced up. "I don't think we're quite
ready yet for another go, eh?"
laughed, shaking his head 'no', before Vadim stood again,
gave himself a quick wash, and of course didn't quite
manage to keep the soapy water out of the cut. Never
mind. He'd had much worse. Then stopped the water and
reached for the towel, running it over Dan's body, swift
and efficient - he'd towelled both Anoushka and Nikolai,
nothing but tenderness in this. He'd miss the kids,
despite what little time he'd actually spent with them.
Missed being a father, sometimes.
you going to feed me, as well?"
grinned. "I think I could live with you sucking
food from my fingers." He gave a laugh, then helped
Dan leave the bathtub, who lifted his brows, and took
the answer as a 'yes'.
cuts have started bleeding again." Dan glanced
at his biceps, then nodded towards Vadim's thigh. He
could see a thin rivulet of water mixing with red and
running down the inside of his leg. "There's a
small first aid pack in my bag." Not a bergan this
time, but a sports bag. Epitome of his new life and
transformation from under cover soldier to an embassy's
head of security. And what a brilliant head of security
he was right now, Dan thought with a wry grin. Cut and
cutting, cumming, raw, inside another man's body, getting
fucked in return until he screamed, and, worst of all,
walking around with his wrists bound. But at least no
one would ever know.
nodded. "Sit down. I'll get it." He gestured
towards the bed, then went to fetch the first aid pack.
He wondered if Dan had brought it, maybe he'd expected
things to go like this, but he sure as fuck wouldn't
complain. Foresight always better than hindsight. He
opened the pack and put it down near Dan. A tight bandage
should be enough, no need to stitch. He'd had that much
control, at least. He cleaned the wound, then covered
it and bandaged it tightly, glancing at Dan to check,
who was watching him work. Then washed his hands and
checked on his own wound. 'Mine'. Vadim glanced at Dan,
shaking his head, reaching for the disinfectant.
do realise that would be a hell of a lot easier if you
untied me and I did it for you?" Dan grinned, shaking
droplets out of his wet hair again. Too thick and long,
and the water tickled its way down his back. He wriggled,
grimacing, unable to scratch.
trust you not to try and give me blowjob, and I'd hate
to disappoint." Vadim commented and Dan smirked,
shaking his head again as if to say 'wait and see',
while Vadim tensed his jaw as he cleaned the cuts, and
bandaged himself. As naturally as if he'd received these
in combat. "Damn inconvenient place for cuts."
and damn convenient for you to know it is there, but
for no one else to see, unless they get up close and
laughed. "I don't think that's likely. There's
just you, Dan. No conscripts. Haven't, for long time
now. No longer interested. I do my close combat with
you these days."
smiled, and the realisation hit him, that despite all
he was and ever had been, he'd been fucking monogamous
for years. For some reason that embarrassed the hell
out of him, and he flashed a covering grin before glancing
backwards, regarding the mess the bed was in. "Fucking
disgrace, you better turn the covers upside down."
I'll just flip them over." Vadim stood, fastened
the bandage and headed towards the food. Salmon, lobster,
tiny bites with several layers of things he didn't know
or couldn't identify. He took a handful of those and
went back to Dan, offering him one close to his lips.
Salmon and cream cheese on a tiny bit of bread.
laughed, but took the bite nevertheless, talking while
chewing. "Last time I was hand-fed it was by my
mother, when I was a baby." Conveniently forgetting
the hospital in India, and a weakness that had gone
far beyond the physical. "You could let me smoke
a fag and feed me some of the wine as well. When you're
done with that, your cock, please."
laughed. "First have to make sure you're not hungry."
always will be hungry for your cock, no matter how often
I suck it." Dan grinned while Vadim poured him
some wine and offered the glass, then leaned in to kiss
his lips before Dan could lick the wine off. Took a
sip himself, then got the packet of cigarettes from
Dan's trousers, helped him smoke with a look of disgust,
which amused the hell out of Dan, then went on feeding
him. Every now and then alternating and teasing him
with a bite only to have it himself, or pushed his thumb
in with the bite, made Dan lick it, and gave him a grin
when he did, and Dan laughed in return. Five hours now.
Not yet. Not yet. Still time.
Hunger was finally sated and the wine was down to less
than a glass. "I really do want you to untie me
soon." Dan smiled, slowly licking a last drop of
cream off his lips. The mini strawberry tarts had been
his favourite, as always. "I want to hold you."
face grew serious, and tender, and he looked away, nodding,
then stood to get around Dan and opened the knots, running
his hands up to Dan's arms, avoiding the bandage, then
massaged the shoulders, while Dan let his head drop,
purring under the kneading hands. Vadim felt words like
lumps of lead in his throat. "There. Free."
He grinned and kissed Dan's neck again, clean skin,
soap, hair still damp. "I guess I'll regret it."
lifted his head, then let it drop all the way into his
back to be able to look at Vadim. Rolling his shoulders
before lifting his arms, which were stiff at first,
aching, until he touched the other and pulled Vadim
down with him, as he let himself fall backwards onto
the bed, feet still on the floor. Cupping Vadim's face
with his hands. "No, I don't think you will."
Kissing before Vadim could answer. Slow and languid,
as if they had all the time in the world, not merely
again felt that tightness in his throat, and kept his
eyes shut, hoped Dan wouldn't notice. Funny, he thought,
we've been so lucky, having this, but I can't help wanting
more. More of this. More of Dan. More life. Fought the
pressure and relaxed, concentrating on the tender kiss,
stretched out on the bed, hands in Dan's hair. Willed
himself to remember this, too, kissing, Dan's hair between
his fingers. Wanted to ignore the pain, but it was there,
all the time, and growing worse the more tender this
became. Just don't fucking make me cry, Dan. Please
don't. Hard enough as it is.
hands were everywhere, stroking Vadim's smooth skin,
memorising the sensation of imprints of fingers and
palms, how it felt to stroke up he short-shaved neck;
the heat of Vadim's body, especially between his legs
and running down his arse, between his cheeks, leading
to tight, dark heat, and a yielding that would stay
with him forever.
rolled both of them onto the side after a while, face
to face, never ceasing to kiss and stroke. Still on
the messy bed cloths, but he couldn't bring himself
to stop, because if he did, the last hours might already
be over. "Hold me." He murmured after a long
while, with a strained voice. The lump in his throat
too thick and bloody painful. No aches nor pains could
ever make him forget the intensity of his emotions.
"Just fucking hold me."
reached blindly for Dan, too shaken to say much, or
do much, when he just wanted to curl up like a hurt
child, because that pain in his guts and heart grew
worse and worse. Held Dan close, with enough strength
to constrict, but Dan was strong enough easily to counter
that, withstand his strength.
didn't want to say anything, but the words were unstoppable.
"Don't leave me. You've got to find me. I fucking
love you. My Russkie, my cunt."
fucking tears. Vadim shook his head, then pressed his
face into the crook of Dan's shoulder, hoped to hide
his weakness that way, and felt like a man condemned
to die. "I will
find you. If it's the last
thing I'll do, I'll come back. Nothing will stop me."
Couldn't bear the thought of suicide now, or the thought
of his own death in a war that seemed likely in these
dark days. Clung to the hope that whatever happened,
they were both well equipped to deal with anything that
came. Couldn't say the word. Lapushka. Couldn't
push himself over the edge.
Dan whispered, "we'll be together." Tender
kisses, now, light touches of fingers, hands, body,
skin, and again and again his lips. "If you can't
then I will. I will find you. Wherever and however.
Whatever it takes." Pleading, as if he could turn
make-belief into reality, by just believing firmly enough.
"Whatever it costs." The pain was so bad,
it was worse than getting fucked in the hellhole of
Kabul, and far worse than the bomb that had torn his
guts. This was final, and to him it felt as if spending
his last few hours before the execution. "I'll
do anything for you." Dan wanted to scream and
cry, and tried so hard to concentrate on another sensation
instead: lust. At least it lust would prove they were
still alive, and still together. "Anything."
smiled, a sad, very tender smile. "But we'll make
it both. This
this is just more of same. Not
different. Just away from here. We will find place that's
not Afghanistan. Just little while now." Ran his
fingers down Dan's face, and forced that smile to stay.
"Best time in my life - everything's just noise.
Noise and smoke. I'd die for you, Dan. No questions
Vadim. No." Dan's dark eyes were unforgivingly
intense. "You must not die for me, not ever. You
must live for me, you understand?" His fingertips
touched Vadim's, that were resting on his face. "Give
me your word, you will live for me, whatever happens.
Even if I never see you again. I need to believe that
somewhere, out there, you are alive."
nodded. "Aye. I'll live. You
too. Whatever happens." Just in case there's a
war, a meltdown, if the earth just grinds to a halt
and we are all hurled into space. Shook his head, trying
again, with not much success, to suppress the emotion.
No way out. No suicide. He'd just have to live off hope.
will. I give you my word, whatever happens. I'll live."
Dan took a deep breath before he managed to smile. It
felt like lines being etched into his face with acid,
but he forced a smile instead of tears and this goddamned
pain. "And now, Vadim, I want to fuck you once
more. I know you're sore, I know it'll hurt, but I want
you, one last time, and then, finally, I'll suck you
off, because I need to take your taste with me."
wasn't sure he'd be able to get hard, but it was fair
enough. The pain would be a good antidote again. "Just
careful with the bandage", he murmured, and reached
for the lube when Dan nodded. "And let's get rid
of the covers."
got up, Dan standing and watching as Vadim pulled the
messed-up covers free, and tossed them on the ground,
revealing the mattress underneath. No blood. Both of
them got back onto the bed, facing each other. Dan on
his side, stroking Vadim's chest, who squirted lube
into his hand, plenty of it, pulled the good leg up
and pushed a couple lubed-up fingers inside. Oh fuck,
that would hurt. Vadim grinned at Dan with wry
humour, then kissed his chest, moved downwards, and
ran his lips to Dan's cock, taking it between his lips,
another thing he'd miss, oddly enough, mostly what it
did to Dan, the way he breathed.
hand dropped, stroking the short hair, while his eyes
closed, determined to remember every little thing. The
way Vadim's lips felt, closing around his cock and sliding
down, the way the teeth scraped lightly. How he breathed
in and pushed himself further down, until he could feel
his cock against the back of the other's throat. He
was getting hard rapidly, despite the pain inside and
out. Desperation did that, and the knowledge of time
being against them. Opening his eyes, Dan stared at
the sight for a while, took in movement, head, lips
and face, until his breath became ragged, knowing he
couldn't go any further or he wouldn't be able to do
what he needed to. "Lie on your side." Murmured
hoarsely, "like you did in the cave."
glanced up, and reluctantly released the cock. He wasn't
quite soft anymore, and he hoped what Dan would do would
get him fully there. "Okay." He turned his
back, reached behind him and twisted his neck to get
a kiss as Dan moved up closer behind him. This gave
Dan full control, but Vadim didn't mind just now. Just
doing this would be good, if he'd come or not didn't
actually matter all that much. Or whether it hurt. The
taste still on his lips, the memory against the back
of his throat. It felt like carefully stocking a museum
he'd be able to wander through if he only did this well
anything, Dan was even more careful than the first time.
Slower, working with minute movements. Lying behind
Vadim, on his right, avoiding the cut on his biceps.
His chest touched Vadim's back, and their legs were
moulded close. With the cut leg angled away, Dan tried
not to touch the bandage, yet their bodies were so close,
not a finger could move between them. "I remember
when I first looked at you." Dan murmured, hardly
above a whisper, as he eased his cock against the sore
muscle, moved no more than fraction, the most gentle
rocking movement, as tender as his hands and his lips
that kissed the back of Vadim's head. "Really
looked at you." He didn't know why he had to talk,
but all those words wanted to come out and be said.
It was his very last chance.
relaxed despite the pain, felt Dan inside, sore, aching,
stretching him again, but it was all welcome, and the
slow deliberate tenderness did strike a chord and made
him harder. Didn't know what time Dan was talking about,
probably the time in the mountains, when he'd been tortured,
helpless, at the mercy of a man who didn't give any
mercy, no quarter.
hated you." Dan's gentle movements continued, as
slow and tender as if Vadim prepared him for his fist.
"You were so goddamned perfect and yet so flawed."
way of putting it", murmured
Vadim. Was he still the same man? The same cunning,
brutal spetsnaz who'd raped just for the rush of it,
the man who kept a core of steel even under pressure.
Didn't feel like it. He felt he was pretending, nothing
but pretending to be that, when this was the thing he
wanted to be. Just a man.
chuckling, the sound hurt the back of Dan's throat and
burnt in his eyes. "I thought I was better than
you." Closing his eyes, he felt too much, was tearing
himself open with all of this, but nine years of heaven
and hell deserved all his pain. "How wrong I was."
Whispered, as he entered further and further, taking
more time than ever before. "Without you, I would
not be myself anymore, not even alive."
glanced over his shoulder, reached behind him to touch
Dan's neck. "I wanted you even then. I wanted you
all the time. And I was
curious. I tried to
get into your mind, and let you in instead. Not good,
and best thing I've done in this whole war."
thing I've done all my life." Deeper and deeper,
no matter how slowly, until Dan could finally feel himself
once more, for the last time, embedded deeply within
Vadim's body. He began to rock, while dropping his hand
to Vadim's cock, stroking as unhurriedly as his hips
were moving. Time was stretching, and he dragged out
every remaining second, staying within low simmering
lust, while Vadim's breath shifted, felt more pressed,
part pain, part desire.
not the same man anymore." Dan murmured, "Without
you I'd probably be a drunken wanker, gibbering on about
past glory, security guard in a parking lot, and drinking
myself to death."
" Vadim leaned into the other's body, watched
Dan stroke him, felt desire grow stronger than the pain,
barely, twisted his neck again, but could only catch
a glimpse of Dan, as close as he was. "Just while
longer, and I'll be different, too. I'll no longer be
that soldier. No lies."
already are different." Dan's voice was getting
husky, his movements increasing a mere fraction. Hand
and cock, one an extension of the other. Inside and
out of Vadim's body, that body he wanted so much. "You're
just a man." He fucked as gently and tender as
he could, all of his love and all of his lust pouring
into every minute thrust and each stroke. "And
I so very fucking much love that man."
felt himself tighten up, body finally translating the
touches and dealing with the pain, lust grew, and he
groaned, wanting nothing more in the world but this
to last, this tenderness, Dan talking. The illusion
that there was no uniform, no marching order, he'd be
here and that was the end of it. And happily ever after.
"And I love
you." In Russian. "You're
killing me with this ..." he gave a near-silent
laugh. "Difficult to
Another groan, and he closed his eyes.
to part." Dan groaned, he was speeding up a little,
but his stroking remained slow. Couldn't let Vadim come.
ever." He was quiet,
then, concentrating on nothing but his feelings. Every
sensation, no matter how small or big. Imprinting them
into his memory, if he had to feed from them for years
to come, he would. Finding partners for sex, whores
perhaps, but never lovers. No one like Vadim, never
again. He loved, and he was goddamned loyal, couldn't
help this sense of utter loyalty.
took him a long time to build up his lust, deliberately
so, until he finally allowed himself to let go, all
the way murmuring words that made no sense but were
full of meaning. Love and need, and not a moment of
embarrassment that he might behave like a sissy and
not like a man. He knew who and what he was, and he
also knew that he loved Vadim and would never stop,
not as long as he lived. When he came, it was with a
low sound of pain or lust, as his body was gripped by
Vadim's and his own was wrapped around the other.
was desperate when Dan finally came, his body in agony,
but he didn't care, relished in the closeness, the lust
Dan found in his body and fanned, fanned, kept him there
again, on the edge. Releasing it would be a mercy in
many ways. As if Dan tried to make a point, a point
that it was him who did this, and that was what he wanted.
He reached behind and touched the other's flank, stroking
the sweaty skin, while lust still held him like the
pain. They fused, whirled in his mind and body, mixed
up, impossible to say which was which. An intense pressure
and ache. He turned a little, sought Dan's lips, kissed
him again, placed his hand on the hand around his cock,
stroked it, the strong, swollen veins of Dan's hand,
traced the line of the wrist. Body tensing, but couldn't
shed the pressure, not like this, not that easily. "Help
like this." Dan was still breathing heavily, shuddering
with the aftershocks, when he gently swatted Vadim's
hand away. Easing himself out of the much abused body,
as careful as he could, he rolled Vadim over to lie
on his back, while he once more knelt on the bed, on
all fours, between the other's legs. "I told you
I want to taste you." He smiled. One last time.
Taking that cock in his hand, for a moment marvelling
at the perfection of girth and length, the way the veins
stood out, the precum glistened on the swollen head
and the balls nestled heavy below. "Even your cock
is fucking perfect." Murmured, before he lapped
at the slit, concentrated, fully focussed, and doing
nothing but teasing and coaxing, before slowly sucking
inside, creating a vacuum of friction and wet heat,
while his tongue worked beneath the ridge and along
the length. He so loved giving head, they could stamp
'cocksucker' on his forehead and he'd simply laugh,
because that's what he was, addicted to the smooth hardness
down his throat, tasting cum, and sucking Vadim's cock.
yes." Vadim's hands dug into the mattress,
then found Dan's shoulders and squeezed them. Moving
up into the heat, eyes closed, trying to get deeper
and faster, because now that the pain had subsided and
had become a dull throbbing, lust grew out of all proportion.
He pushed up, feeling the cut keenly as he did. "Please.
so good", he murmured, mindless.
was careful not to touch the bandage, while his hands
moved up the shaft, then replaced with his lips as he
breathed in sharply, pushing himself down as far as
he could, concentrating on ignoring all reflexes, while
breathing in the musky scent, the essence of Vadim.
Kneading his balls, working on flesh and skin, while
increasing speed and suction. He was merciless, knowing
just what to do, and how to do it. Knowing Vadim inside
and out, and playing his body like a most exquisite
instrument. Come for me, he thought, let me taste you,
while he kept his eyes open, taking in every sight and
sound, never to forget those words. Please, and
good, and he thought, I fucking love you, I want
to stay like this forever, and the parting will kill
me in a few short hours.
lost all coherence, Dan down on his cock, working him
like that, and he came fiercely, despite his body's
exhaustion, but there was no way he could resist, like
a switch that was being flicked, a trigger squeezed,
and he came, loudly, groaning and pleading, every muscle
in his body knotting up and the pain only pushed him
deeper. Stars, blackness, tunnel vision, the orgasm
felt like tearing, and he collapsed back on the bed,
feeling Dan swallow, and suck, drain him like he did.
Reaching idly for Dan's head, running his fingers through
the damp hair, lips half open, lids heavy, looking down
came back up, licking the spent cock clean. Lingering
for a moment, until he lifted his head and smiled at
Vadim. "I'll never forget that sight." Vadim
sated and spent, completely relaxed: Vadim how he rarely
sight?" Vadim wasn't even curious, just
speaking the first thing he thought.
look well fucked."
moved up, covering the other's body with his own. Both
strong, both tall, both men. One blond and heavily muscular,
the other dark and with the strength of a runner. Just
hold me, Dan thought, but he didn't say it, instead
lay on the body and wrapped his arms and legs around
it. With every bit of himself and with all his strength,
as if he refused to ever let go.
brought his arms up, with effort, and splayed both hands
on Dan's back, feeling him breathe. The weight was good,
protecting and reassuring, sharing warmth and everything
they had left. Vadim's eyes closed, and he slipped off
to sleep, with the odd feeling all would be good. At
least for a little while longer.
drifted off into sleep as well, allowing himself the
luxury of pretence: all would be well, he would wake
up with Vadim in the morning, they would not have to
get up at dawn, in a mere three hours, to part ways
without knowing if they ever met again.
war had kept them together; peace was tearing them apart.
woke with a little start. Past five. He reached for
the watch. Yes. Far later than he usually got up, but
enough time. He stretched, Dan was still on top, had
slept there, and Vadim reached up to touch the sleeping
face, then rolled over, getting Dan on the mattress
and his body out from under him. Groaning, Vadim got
up, sore, and in pain from the cut, but that was what
he'd wanted, and exactly this way.
vanished into the bathroom to piss, then had a quick
shower with the bandaged leg still outside the bathtub,
and made a mess with the water going everywhere. He
shook his head, couldn't get angry or worked up in any
way. Towelled himself down, left the wound alone, and
headed back into the hotel room to find Dan sitting
on the bed, rubbing his eyes. Vadim found the fucking
uniform - all of the pieces, anyway, then began to dress.
He wasn't hungry, but had a few slices of left over
was watching Vadim, still hadn't said a word. Determined
to take in every last view of that body, but he didn't
try to touch, knowing it would break his resolve and
whatever else he had managed to build up around him.
Wondering idly if this was what millions of women had
felt like, in all those uncountable wars, when their
lovers, partners, and husbands had left for the front.
Cursing himself for that stupid thought and shaking
his head with a wry grin before he got off the bed,
padding over to the remains of the food.
flight's today, aye?" Stuffing random food into
his mouth, just something - anything to keep him going.
It all tasted like ashes anyway. Finding his trousers,
he jumped on one leg while getting into it, and winced.
Fuck, his arse would hurt for a long time, but it was
exactly what he had wanted.
I have enough time to get to the airport. The luggage
should already be there." Vadim closed the buttons
of the tunic, struggling a little with the cuffs, too
distracted by thoughts. "I'll get picked up by
a driver at a different place. I have enough time to
get there." He straightened a bit, still felt Dan,
which would make the long flight interesting at best.
"In Moscow, I'll live at my father's place for
a couple days, until I know what my next orders are."
He paused, looked at Dan, who nodded while sitting back
on the bed, pulling on socks and tying his boots.
found the peaked cap, and turned it in his hands. "I'll
just leave, Dan. I can't
stay longer, can't do
it, here." Tapping his chest with the hat. "I
said all I needed to say, and I meant it all. It's no
different from other times, yes?"
understand." Dan nodded. He did, no mere lip service,
because it started to hurt so much, all he wanted was
to let go of the pain and cry, but he'd be fucked if
he allowed himself that. Gathering knife and pistol
to himself, he stashed them where they usually lived
on his body before taking hold of his t-shirt. Kabul
in winter was cold, but he felt reluctant to start piling
the layers onto his body. Not just yet, not while Vadim
was still close.
straightened, stood, in jeans, boots, weapons and scars,
the quintessence of himself. "I will see you again,
Vadim. We will meet." Trying to convince himself
as he stepped closer, touching the other's face. Fingertips,
no more, or he'd break down. Vadim's jaw muscles tensed
under the touch, and his hand covered Dan's, held it
there, as he inclined his head and kissed Dan's wrist.
will be together, come what may."
we will. Just little more patience." Vadim suddenly
smiled. "No: A little more patience."
He took Dan's hand down and pressed it with both of
his. "And thank you for the breakfast and the company."
Another firm pressing of Dan's hand, who tried to smile,
then Vadim released him, took the greatcoat off its
hook and opened the door. Cast a quick glance back,
despite his best intentions, and gave Dan another of
those bright smiles, while his eyes swam, then turned
and was out of the door.
was it, and Dan let go the moment the door closed behind
him. For once, simply giving up and giving in, allowing
the tears to flow that he'd been holding back with all
his will. Didn't care he was crying while slipping the
t-shirt over his head, didn't give a damn that he was
an utter fool to step to the window, pushing the curtains
apart. Just one last glance, hurting himself with this,
but he had to. One last view of the man as he vanished
down the deserted street. Standing at the window, Dan
didn't want Vadim to know, wouldn't make it harder on
the other, and thus opened it quietly, leaning out to
be able to look down onto the street. Any moment now,
and the tall figure would appear, to walk away.
was half blind with tears, found his way by outlines
and blotches of colour, managed to slip the coat on
while walking briskly, as if speed could help him escape
the pull of gravity. The lobby was empty. Nobody there.
Good. Nobody would see him, then.
stepped outside, paused for a moment to cross the road,
when he heard a voice: "Vadim Petrovich?"
He turned, and there were two men, no, comrades, Spetsnaz,
knew them from the barracks, then saw the pistols in
their hands. Heard a car speed up, turn the corner from
the side alley, and screeching brakes, doors opened,
and something hit him on the head, which blurred his
mind and made his body go powerless, but not quite unconscious.
He was half pushed, half pulled into the car, where
somebody held a gun to his forehead and somebody else
covered his head with a bag, and then his hands were
tied. "You're going home, traitor", a voice
murmured close to his face, then something hit him against
the temple, and the lights went out.
in the room, Dan saw Vadim come out of the hotel, pausing,
turning to face something he could not quite see. Then
suddenly, a flash of motion, car, men, and someone hitting
Vadim and Dan clung to the window frame, leaned out
and yelled as if he could stop them. "No!"
He witnessed how the great body went limp, forced into
the car. Death-grip on metal as he almost jumped out
of that goddamned window if it didn't mean breaking
his neck. "No! Vadim!" As if he could stop
the horror, "Vadim!"
car sped off and Dan's heart was racing, adrenaline
speeding through his body and mind, frantically trying
to make sense of it all. He hadn't been able to understand
a word, but the car, those men, just like Vadim, and
Vadim was more than a soldier and then
pushed himself away from the window, ducked his head
by instinct. Windows, door, coffins and targets. Fuck,
how had they known, and if they were KGB, then
he couldn't finish the thought when the sound of wood
crashing tore through the silence.
instincts still worked, once special forces, forever
SAS, threw himself to the side and to the floor, behind
the bed, as the door was kicked in. Too much adrenaline
to notice any pain anymore, and the pistol was already
in his hand. Twelve shots. No more. The other clips
were in his bag.
orders, "get him!" from the door, and an AK
bellowed, tearing chunks out of walls, carpet and floorboards,
as heavy steps sounded. "Come out, you bastard!"
somebody shouted, both advancing men wore the full kit
of spetsnaz, much like on the day when Vadim had stormed
the house Dan had protected.
had crawled under the bed, thankful for the valance
that covered the gap, robbing forward on his belly.
Not away from them, but closer. Fucking spetsnaz, Vympel,
so this was a big thing, then, they were out to kill
him. The KGB meant it this time. His only chance was
going to get up close - and nothing but personal.
pulled the knife out of its sheath at the small of his
back, slipped it between his teeth. He'd need his left
hand, fucked, but functional. Closer then, they were
searching the room, Dan only had seconds before they
realised he wasn't in the bathroom nor wardrobe, but
under the bed. Seconds, and he'd pray if he were a believing
man. Even so, one of the men came closer to the bed,
Dan could see his ankle. Snatched at it, left hand pulling
hard to get him off balance, in the same motion catapulting
himself forward, from under the bed, sliding between
the soldier's legs. Turned onto his back, firing his
pistol upwards and into the man. Once, twice to make
sure, couldn't waste anymore bullets, and the soldier
had only time to scream, before the bullets tore open
his guts all the way to his brain.
AK sounded in the bathroom. The shower curtain died,
but at the sound of shooting from the main room, the
rolled to the side, away from the falling body, blood
was splattering all over him, before he wrenched the
AK out of the dying man's hand and got back onto his
belly, aiming at the bathroom door. Knife still between
his teeth, at the ready, but he didn't need it for the
second man, who didn't know what hit him when Dan let
lose a round, the Kalashnikov shredding the body apart,
that fell forward amidst choking groans.
more soldiers made their way up. They hadn't been quite
ready to storm when their mark had left the building.
Now, everybody was running to catch up with the time
plan, coordinated in person by the Colonel.
got up onto his knees, wiping blood from his eyes that
was blurring his vision. Turned, reached for his bag
that was close, cut it open with the knife and pulled
out a couple more clips. Stashed knife and ammo on his
body, still on his knees, then crawled to the first
corpse, grabbed the man's pistol. Two pistols, now,
both in his waistband, AK in his hand, and the second
AK slung over his shoulder. Fuck the weight, he'd need
all he could get, when he heard the sound of boots running
up the stairs.
stood, looked left and right, judging his chances, had
to find the best way out in split seconds. Door: would
be crowded with more bastards. Window: too high. Bathroom:
no window, no exit. His eyes fell onto the table, food,
silver plate and bottles ripped into shreds by the bullets,
but the long tablecloth still draped all the way to
the floor. A cold grin ghosted across his face and he
leapt towards it, crawled beneath. Directly opposite
to the door, he could hear the Russian orders and understood
every word. He knew he had to be faster than the Soviet
arseholes, but he'd overcome one spetsnaz once, nine
years ago, he'd nail the rest of those fuckers. Aiming
through a couple of bulletholes in the cloth, he sat
absolutely still, blood rushing in his ears, ready to
open fire the moment they turned around the corner and
walked through the door. 'Vertical coffin' Vadim had
called it, he'd show them the meaning today.
The pained breathing of one of the downed men turned
into a death rattle while more boots were heard from
outside, advancing, then slowing near the open door.
A few shots were fired into the empty room, before they
advanced again. The first soldier became visible, then
another, holding fire as the room seemed to be empty.
Heads turning, searching, Kalashnikovs at the ready,
until they spotted the legs of a comrade sticking out
of the bathroom. One of the men turned, about to shout
for the medic.
come closer, Dan thought, all the time wary of a smoke
grenade. Seemed they either underestimated him, or didn't
expect a single man to put up that much resistance.
The moment he saw the soldier open his mouth, he let
go of the trigger, firing round after round into the
advancing men, until the screams of the wounded and
dying alerted the ones behind. No more than split seconds,
stretched out in slow motion. That was it. He'd given
himself a small advantage of time. Blood splattering
across the room in a macabre echo of hours ago, but
they'd know now that he wasn't that easy to get.
could hear the orders, knew the goddamned smoke grenade
would be next, and short of suffocating, or dying, disorientated,
he had to get out of there. The room was a trap, he
had to find a getaway. The next wave of spetsnaz were
still a few yards away, he could hear their boots, when
the idea clicked into place. Threw the table off him,
sprinting towards the bodies of the fallen, frantically
searching their belts. There! Got it, one of the men,
perhaps a junior officer, carried a couple of hand grenades.
Still gurgling with rattling breaths, but unable to
stop Dan fleecing his body.
off the pin, Dan stood right in the centre of the room,
waiting. One, two more breaths, he heard them coming,
but he had to time it just right. Counted, lobbed the
grenade towards the door, out into the corridor, the
moment the soldiers arrived. Throwing himself behind
the bed, he pulled the covers with him, curled up in
a ball in the very corner, wedged between bed, night
table and wall, protecting his body, head, ears and
waiting for the explosion.
sound was deafening, ringing in Dan's ears, as the world
lost all sound and the grenade tore the men apart. Somebody
turned heel, wounded, but alive, trying to get away
from the carnage, warn the others, while screaming men
were begging for a medic.
could hardly hear anything after the explosion, throwing
the duvet off him, that had kept the worst from his
ears. Knew he was bruised, the rifles heavy, but he
wasn't going to let go of them, not yet. Had no idea
what was still waiting for him. His body in working
order, he jumped out of the corner and ran towards the
door, spotting the wounded soldier trying to run away.
Aiming roughly with the AK, yelling towards the back
of the man, in Russian, "Go to hell!" before
opening fire and mowing him down.
corridor, he had to get out of there, it was nothing
but a long narrow tunnel, leading towards the target:
him. Sprinting along, he realised they had to have taken
the whole hotel, there was no one else, no staff, no
customers, no noise except Russian orders and sounds
of boots and men. Why the hell had they never noticed.
As if he didn't know.
reached the stair case, looked around for a fire exit,
but no sign, only another corridor, breaking off in
a T from the first. No time, they'd only be busy with
the wounded for a short while, and he had no idea how
many soldiers were still downstairs. How many did they
bother to send after a single man? A part of him would
be sickeningly proud at the sheer number they'd already
thrown at him, but the most part just wanted to stay
no, too dangerous. Elevator? Insane, wouldn't work anyway.
Back stairs? No idea where the fuck they were and he
bet they'd wait for him there. Suddenly remembered something.
The corridor that went off from the one he stood in
- the street was in front of the room they'd stayed
in, and there had been an extension to the left. He
was sure he remembered a flat roof, one level below.
No more time to speculate, when he heard the sound of
more boots coming closer, he had to take the risk.
ran around the corner into the second corridor. He could
hear shouting in his back. Turning sideways, he opened
fire while running, covering his back. Swivelling the
AK around when he reached the middle of the hallway,
Dan smashed one of the doors in with its butt, throwing
himself into the room. Empty, just as expected, and
the window right across.
had no more than a few seconds, crossed the room by
running over the top of the bed that stood right in
the middle, against the wall, and tried to tear the
window open. The flat roof directly beneath, no more
than three yards. He'd been right, but the damned window
wouldn't budge, locked, no key anywhere. He could hear
the soldiers coming closer, and smashed the glass with
the rifle, trying to make as big a gap as possible in
as short a time.
jumped through the broken glass the moment three of
the soldiers turned the corner of the corridor, crying
out when he caught his leg on one of the remaining razor
sharp edges, which tore his jeans open, slicing into
his thigh. Landing on both feet, Dan rolled forwards
with the impact, but kept the weapons on his body. Checked,
moved, realised his leg functioned and whatever the
fuck had cut him was superficial. Getting back up, breathless,
he started to run across the roof top. In full view,
no cover, if he wasn't going to make it in time, he
was the perfect target, like a rabbit in an open field.
he glanced backwards, saw men appearing at the window,
shouting orders, and he let his AK lose once more, firing
roughly into their direction, until the magazine ran
out and he threw the weapon away, yanking the second
one off his shoulders.
was desperate, needed an escape, no matter what, when
he spotted a roof light. Prayed it was one of the utility
rooms, anything that would lead outside, just not the
back door where he was betting they waited for him.
Kicking the glass in with his boots, the whole frame
splintered when the wood gave, leaving a hole just big
enough for him to pass through. Peered down, saw nothing
moving below, had to take the risk and jumped, feet
first, while holding the AK over his head. He landed
on tiles below, in the middle of a steel furnished kitchen.
nothing but the sound of his harsh breathing and the
aftershocks of the deafening blast in his ears. Three
exits from that place, but not a single window, only
fluorescent light and the ceiling window. Shit. Dan
knew he had no more but mere seconds, the whole chase
hadn't taken longer than a few minutes since they'd
kicked in the door, but he had no clue which path to
take. Calculated the way he'd come in, the light, angle
of the room, and
had to take his chance. Running
through the doorway to his right, rifle in firing position,
he sprinted along the dark passageway towards a steel
door. Hoping the goddamned thing was unlocked, but when
he tried the handle, slamming his body weight against
it, and even kicking a couple of times with the heel
of his boot, the damned thing would not budge.
Dan spit out, breathless and raging inside. If he wasn't
getting out of there in the next few minutes he was
fucked. He expected it to be chaos upstairs. They'd
be extracting the wounded and treat the casualties,
but he knew they had seen him running across the roof,
and he had no idea if he had killed any of the soldiers
at the window, nor if they had seen him jump through
the roof opening.
he was going to try and shoot himself free he'd make
such a racket, he'd be met by a platoon of spetsnaz
before he could say "you're fucked". No choice,
and Dan ran all the way back again, straight into the
kitchen, to try the next corridor.
for a way out?" The voice was calm and mocking,
coming from somewhere between the surfaces of steel.
English words. Whoever had spoken had very likely already
changed positions - and definitely kept himself covered.
"Maybe to tell the rest of the CIA that their agent
Dan threw himself behind a cluster of gas hobs, right
in the middle of the kitchen. Cowering behind the steel
wall, he strained his ears to try and make out where
the voice came from. CIA? Agent
fuck. It couldn't
. No. The AK was unwieldy in this place, so he
slung it onto his back and slipped one of the Russian
pistols into his hand. On his knees, peering around
the corner. Whoever was there seemed to play a game
that meant the rest of the soldiers would be kept at
bay for a while. One man, Dan wagered, at least for
did you figure I'd be here?" Keep the bastard talking.
can read a trail of blood. It's what wolves do, after
all." A pause, and shifting, maybe the faint sound
of military boots. "It will be a pleasure to
meet you." Unveiled thread. "We did not have
the pleasure, not in all those years that you've been
using one of my own men against me. This, I take personally."
Fuck! Dan glanced at his leg. Of course, the jump, the
smashed window. It was still bleeding now. "What
makes you think I used one of your men?" Playing
dumb, while he shifted and slid backwards again, leaning
with his back against the steel wall, breathing heavily
while trying to keep his voice level. Searching with
his eyes for anything he could use to his advantage.
A mirrored surface, a reflection somewhere, or anything
else to give the position away.
know it. I know you caught one of my men up there in
the mountains and made him your spy. You turned one
of my own officers against me, against the Soviet Army,
and against the Soviet Union." A hint of anger
crept into the voice.
Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Dan's blood was running cold, despite
his feigned surprise. He suddenly felt everything but
like a well-honed machine, bent on survival. On the
contrary, he had to battle a sudden leaden weakness.
how long had they known. "And what
the fuck makes you think I have anything to do with
the CIA?" Dan moved slowly, until he sat on his
heels, trying to reach the large, polished colander
hanging above, to change its angle.
That makes you British, and you
are in bed with the Americans. Interesting set-up. You
don't have the looks for a honey trap."
laughed, a short-sharp stab of a sound, while horror
slammed into his guts. 'Honey-trap', how would that
bastard know. "I just killed at least a dozen of
your men. What makes you think I'm a honey trap, bastard."
He had managed to touch the colander, moving it ever
so slowly to try and get a glimpse of the man.
the creaking of combat boots, soles on the tiles. The
other man kept moving. "Maybe the sexual acrobatics
honey traps better know their business. I do
wonder how you worked Krasnorada out before we did
I guess that must have happened when you tortured him.
A man can become very strange when he is tortured. I
cut him some slack - I gave him some freedom after that.
His heroic escape. And he's been meeting you all the
time. What did you offer him? Money? Freedom? Or just
shuddered, those words cut deep. How did they know?
They'd been careful, they'd vetted every place they'd
ever stayed in, and they
shit. What the hell
had he expected. Getting away with nine years of secrets?
Dan tried to concentrate on nothing but survival, but
inwardly he was losing it. Not for himself, but for
Vadim. The worst that could happen to him was to die.
It was part of his occupational hazard, but the worst
that could happen to Vadim was - what exactly?
the hell makes you think we even had sex." Keep
talking, just keep talking, and give me more information,
as much as I can get. Who the fuck was that guy. Dan
frowned, then thought he'd caught a glimpse of movement,
calculated the angle, when it suddenly hit him. Vadim
had mentioned one man, several times, but always in
passing. "What indeed, Colonel."
boy. I dropped enough hints for you, then. To satisfy
" A faint shift in tone belied
it was nothing about satisfying Dan, but merely to drive
a point home. "I started putting the extraction
together while you were swallowing his cock. This hotel
is one of the places where certain parties have access
to certain methods of surveillance. You shot a proper
porn movie, complete with dialogue. I could offer you
a copy, but dead men don't really watch porn, do they?"
horror hit Dan with a punch and kick to the guts, he
froze for a moment, unable to move when the full realisation
hit him. They knew everything. They had proof. Wherever
the camera had been hidden, they'd be extracting it
right now, along with the injured survivors and the
corpses. He couldn't breathe, felt as if steel bands
had laid themselves across his ribcage, constricting
his throat with a collar of spikes and chains. The hotel.
His fault. He should have never
and now they
was trying to force himself to act, do something, move,
get the survival instinct to kick in, until finally
one thought managed to tear him back out of his frozen
state. Vadim. If he was going to have any chance at
all, then it was Dan. And now that he knew, he had found
a handle on that Colonel, a possible way to crack him
and make a mistake. He was certain he had seen a shadow
move towards one corner of the room, and he gently let
go of the colander, sliding silently down and creeping
towards the edge while talking. It took all his willpower
to force his voice to comply into a semblance of carelessness.
"I bet you enjoyed watching, didn't you?"
Soundlessly moving the rifle from across his shoulder,
placing it on the ground. He had to be fast and the
cumbersome weapon would be nothing but a hindrance.
me wonder, what did you imagine? Wanting to jerk off
while watching, imagining to be the one who got fucked
or who did the fucking?" Dan's hand slid to the
knife in the small of his back, silently moved its position
to the front with no more than a rustle, tacking it
down carefully. "Ever tasted a man's cum?"
A silence rife with anger. Then: "I think your
'friend' will get quite enough of action where he's
going." Shifting, then pausing. Maybe the Colonel
had seen a motion, too. "But of course, you had
what you wanted. Information. Now that the war is over,
Krasnorada is nothing but collateral. He fed you information
in return for
what? What made him a traitor?
What makes a man forget his country?"
was shaking with rage for a moment, but this time he
got himself under control straight away. The movement,
he had been right, it was over there in the corner.
"Sex, Colonel. Lust." Dan was playing the
game now, retaliated to being taunted. "But what
would you know about it. Still pounding the shrivelled
old wife? Somewhere in the Russian peasant belt? Prematurely
aged with neglect and poverty, aye?" Another sound
was his cue, and Dan threw himself onto the tiled floor,
sliding along on his belly, while firing the pistol
towards the corner, until he hit the next range, metal
sinks this time. Crouching behind them, closer to the
exit. Closer to the bastard.
again, shifting, cloth, leather. "You'll run out
of bullets. I can't hear you reload", said the
Colonel, voice betraying an amount of stress or pain.
It wasn't fear. "Do you want to see me? Fight me?
I bet you want to cut my throat. If only you could work
You destroyed a good soldier, and a decent
enough officer. This whole sordid affair is a major
disappointment for me."
eyes narrowed, listening carefully to every nuance,
trying to get a picture of where his foe could be. He
was pretty sure he'd hit him. Good. The man would make
a mistake eventually, even though 'eventually' was what
Dan couldn't count on. He had no time, he'd have to
act soon or more soldiers would be piling in and then
he'd be fucked.
got it wrong, Colonel." Quietly putting the empty
pistol down, he still had two more and a couple of clips.
"It's not I who is itching to kill you, it's you
who can't wait to kill me. Don't you?" Checking
the secure position of the knife again, he'd have to
act soon, and he had a feeling it was going to be messy.
except for a muffled sound.
Colonel, you thought you had everything under control
and then one of your best men turns out to fuck with
a turkey." Dan was breathing through his nose,
steady, focussed. "Nine fucking years, right under
your nose, and a spetsnaz took it up the arse. What
does it make you feel like? A loser, I guess. A failure
as CO. It'll look shit in your file, won't it? Moscow
will ask why you'd known and why you hadn't acted and
they will guess that's because you wanted to get fucked
by a real man as well."
motion, finally. Something fell to the left, clattered,
and covered what was going on. From what Dan had estimated,
the Colonel's likely attack would be to shoot at him,
or try to flank him from left, but in fact, when the
Colonel appeared, lunging in a mad dash that betrayed
his rage, he came over the right, firing to force Dan
to keep his head down, who was completely taken by surprise.
Emptying his pistol, snarling like an animal, the man
came down on Dan like a brick wall, both of them slamming
into the unforgiving steel behind.
didn't have time to curse himself or the Colonel, he'd
been wrong, and the result of his mistake was smashing
so hard into him, all he could do was protect the vital
areas and take the force that knocked the wind out of
him. Fucking bastard had got one up on him. The moment
he could get so much as a lungful of air, he was fighting
and deflecting the fists that kept punching his face,
no holds barred. Eyebrow splitting, nose hurting, jaw
bruised, before he retrieved his orientation, getting
one knee up and delivering a kick towards the Colonel's
groin, followed by an elbow into his face and a fist
for good measure. Dan had no more breath left to taunt,
growling and spitting blood instead.
Colonel held fast to Dan's shirt, pulling him down with
him as he fell, face distorted with pain, his left arm
lacking strength where the uniform was wet and smelling
of blood, but it could only be a grazing because the
bastard was still fucking strong, forcing Dan on the
ground. One hand finding his throat and coming up close,
he snarled at him, almost too breathless to speak, struggling
for air himself, but holding on with the determination
of a bulldog that had its jaws locked. "Speaking
of shit, I'll
get everything out
of you. Every
right and strong hand around the wrist that was choking
him, gripping so hard he could feel the bones inside
twist and grate against each other, until the grip on
his throat weakened, and he could force the hand away.
Enough leverage to lift his upper body to punch the
Colonel's left arm repeatedly. Hit in fast succession
into the bullet wound, beating raw flesh, making the
man scream with rage and pain and throwing him off balance.
," hard to get
the words out, fighting with all his strength, the bastard
was his fucking match, "got to
get me. Wanker!"
Hooked his good leg around the Colonel's, throwing himself
into the movement to roll them over, trying to get on
Colonel fought like a man possessed, older, clearly,
by five to ten years, went with the roll and tried to
overbalance Dan while struggling, hand again seeking
Dan's throat. "We have
just an extra
and managing to force Dan's head against the leg of
one of the fridges, trying hard to break his balance
in turn, not allowing Dan to settle in on top.
sharp wood and metal digging into Dan's face, he hissed
in pain, blinded by the sheer adrenaline overload of
fighting for his goddamned life. "Fuck you."
Brought out between his teeth, Dan made a lunge for
the Colonel's head, catching the throat between his
teeth, digging them deeply into the tissue below the
jaw, making the man recoil in reflex, on instinct, screaming
again. The surprise and the pain was enough to give
him that moment to slam his elbow into the man's ribs.
Teeth letting go, scrabbling to get on top and smashing
the side of his hand into the Colonel's jugular.
Colonel managed to hit Dan's elbow to bring the blow
off course so it didn't hit clean, protecting his throat
and face. "You trained your bitch well
where Krasnorada's going, they'll fuck him
as often as they
like, and then cut his throat.
like soldiers. And when they
hear he's a cunt
hell, he only has to
guess what they'll do ... to him? Thanks
to your training, he'll even enjoy it!"
froze, eyes wide, for one split second. Those words
hit deeper than twenty years of soldiering and all of
his SAS training had ever prepared him for. No experience,
no tricks, nothing had equipped him against the effect
of those images that flashed across his mind. Vadim.
Raped. Vadim. Used.
stalled, mistakes that could cost a life, and the Colonel
took hold of Dan's arm, leaning into it, twisting the
wrist, elbow to get into a hold before Dan could properly
pin him. He was flexible for a man his age and strength,
moving like a nest of pythons, powerful and skilled,
and he flashed another grin - breathing between the
teeth, chest heaving as he managed to roll on top by
somehow using Dan's arm. Taking a handful of hair to
smash Dan's head against the floor.
for him!" snarled
the Colonel, fingers tight in Dan's hair, not letting
go, yelling at him as loud as his lungs allowed, pulling
his head up and bringing it down with full force.
screamed, felt skin split and flesh burst, the blood
stain on the floor growing with every repeated slam
of his head onto the stone floor. Blood in his vision
and blood on his tongue. He was breathing hard, gathering
his wits and strength for one last stance, one final
chance to fight the bastard.
have plans for you." The Colonel
released Dan only for a moment, slipped something over
his head, and pulled it taut. Garrotte. His free hand
patting Dan down, back, shoulders, arms, then further,
the weight shifting. Found the gun stuck into Dan's
belt in the small of his back, threw it to the side,
plans thwarted, instead his fingers scrabbling for the
wire that was digging into his throat, cutting off air.
His body struggled mindlessly, sounds of desperate gasping
torn out his restricted throat. Felt hands on him, and
fought, fought like hell, but oxygen began to recede,
his strength uncoordinated. This time for real, unlike
all the times with Vadim, and his mind focussed on only
one thought. One. No more. Just one. Deadly.
promised I can
have what's left of you. But then
have to be able to do is
The hand kept searching for weapons, the voice betrayed
the Colonel was already celebrating his victory, expected
Dan to be unconscious very soon. Smashing Dan's face
into the floor again, for good measure, then took him
by the shoulder to turn him around.
wasn't sure anymore where he was, or what, and who and
wherever the fuck, except for pain and blood, running
down his face, into his mouth, blinding his vision.
Words, taunting, didn't matter, just clinging to the
one thought. Victory? Not yet, fuck, not yet, had to
live, promised to live. I live for you, and until
the other soldiers came and he had no more chance, he
would cling to the one last focus. Turned round, he
felt like a puppet, but needed to see, and the blood
and pain made it as harder than a night, nine years
pathetic faggot", snarled the Colonel, patting
down his front and sides, finding the magazine, which
momentarily made him frown, as if that had been unexpected,
and threw the second gun away. Checking the pockets.
Down the legs and up again, ribs, shoulders, all the
time pulling the garrotte taut, while Dan's hand was
scrabbling at the wire, making useless attempts at breathing.
the 'real man' now? You? Or me? Let's not talk about
your 'girl' - he's going to get so much more cock than
even he could possibly want
. What a death for
a fucking masochist
choking on the cum of half
the prison and then some
you think he'll remember?
He'll curse you with his last breath, you faggot. He'll
curse you every time they bend him over and beat him
to a pulp. Krasnorada has no allies. Nobody will help
him. He was one of us, but now he is nothing. And that's
the last thing you'll ever know about him."
roared, no sound, no air, but utter, soul-destroying
rage, and the horror of those words won over burning
lungs and a body in agony. Hands moving, sliding, down
to his middle, while his upper body lifted from the
floor. Against the strength that held him down; against
the force that had conquered him. As the Colonel shouldered
into him, trying to control him with his upper body
strength, Dan's fingers slipped beneath the waistband
of his jeans. The knife came out, sheath nestled beside
his cock, and with an almighty effort, he plunged the
blade into the bastard's guts, forcing it across, cutting
the pig open.
Colonel's scream turned almost immediately into a choking,
and the grip loosened. Both hands went to the belly,
trying to hold the guts in, pure instinct as the Colonel
tried to get away, realising that was a killing blow
and he needed help if he was to survive this. Blood
running down the camo, as glistening flesh appeared
in the cut. Almost instantly, the sweating face turned
white as paper, and the Colonel tried to stagger away,
holding his guts in with his arm, reaching for the fridge
to support his weight as trauma shock almost denied
him control of his body.
moved the moment he was free of the weight, forced his
body to comply, legs, arms, and most of all throat.
Tearing the wire off his neck, he drew in desperate,
frantic gulps of air, while rolling onto his belly,
then his knees. Agony, coughing, but still alive and
the bastard's blood running down the blade of his knife.
"Fuck you, pig." His voice no more than a
forced, raspy snarl, hardly able to do anything but
breathe. "I was
from his knees onto his feet, wiping blood out of his
eyes and swaying for a moment until he had found his
violently coughing before he could get draw in air to
stumble forward, gaining his senses, "check
Colonel fought shock and pain and disbelief, not reacting
to the words, still together enough to retreat, but
every motion was erratic, as if the pain denied every
thought, every attempt at control.
was right in front of him. His left hand had enough
strength to pin the dying man's shoulders against the
fridge, almost pushing him off balance. His knee followed,
pinning the Colonel between metal and his own blood-covered
body. "I'll live, you swine." Dan coughed
again, hefted his knife, he didn't want to kill the
man that swiftly, wanted to watch him die slowly and
in agony instead. But the soldiers wouldn't be far and
he had to get out and to safety, as long as his body
still functioned. Control was slipping away with every
minute. "I'll live and I'll get Vadim out."
Colonel's bloodied hand made contact with Dan's lower
arm, but lacked strength, nothing but a futile attempt
at blocking and slapping away as he bled profusely.
Staining Dan's jeans with his blood, hot, gushing out
of an obscenely large wound, and he coughed in a reflex.
Blood running out of the corner of his mouth, down the
pale face. "
" Just the word,
and whatever he meant, he didn't manage to go on.
chest was heaving with every forced breath, every fibre
in agony, when he lifted his arms. "Because I fucking
love that man, you bastard!" His hand came
down, the knife slicing deep, blade embedded in the
throat, tearing the jugular open, releasing a spray
of bright red blood that gushed against his face and
chest, while the Colonel's breath turned to a bone-chilling
gurgle. "I love him, hear me? And I'll meet
you in hell, one day, but before that, you die, fucking
pig, die knowing I love him and I'll get him
Colonel's pale eyes blinked, slowly, one hand reached
up to find his throat, then strength left him, and he
let go of the body, as if it were hot, then wiped his
face, blood everywhere. He was drenched, in his hair,
face, clothes, and his own body felt as if it had been
slaughtered as well. Eyes flickering around the kitchen,
saw his pistol the Colonel had kicked away, the two
clips, reloaded with shaking fingers and painful breath,
without another glance at the dead man. No time to find
the AK, and he simply didn't have the strength to carry
the weapon. He had no idea if they were, after all,
waiting for him at the back door of the kitchen exit,
but he had to try. One more stab at living, just like
he had promised.
staggered forward, stumbled, then managed to fall into
a trot, forcing his body to comply as he made his way
down the corridor he should have taken the first time.
Another steel door, but this time unlocked when he tried
the handle. Kicked it open, expecting gun fire, but
nothing happened, no one there, except for early morning
light in a deserted city of death and dust. Dan started
to run, two streets and one corner away. The embassy.
He had to make it there.
movement and shouting behind him, on the roof - alerting
more soldiers that were placed to cut off any escape
attempt, and they broke into a run, clearly to catch
him alive on the order of a dead man. Dan could only
imagine what the loss of comrades and their superior
had done to their original plan - there was no strategy
left, they scrambled around like ants in a burning ant
hill - but some were behind him and running fast.
could hardly coordinate his footing, but his instincts
kicking in, the ones that distinguished an ordinary
soldier from special forces, and he half-turned while
running, firing behind him while picking up speed. Had
no idea where his body found the reserves, just the
one thought, needed to live, had to make it.
give up, never surrender! He who dares, wins, and fuck,
he was daring right now.
the first corner, he could already see the gates of
the compound. The embassy akin to a fortress with its
high walls and barbed wire and the manned gate. The
soldiers were getting closer, despite putting all he
could into his running, Dan was slower than those men,
and all he could do was fire once more, hoping the guard
was getting alerted by the sound of gunfire.
to yell when he was a mere hundred yards away, but his
voice barely did more than croak, could only hope they
understood his frenzied words, "Open the fucking
of the Soviet soldiers fell back, knelt down to bring
up the rifle, while two comrades were still running
after Dan, doubling their efforts before anybody could
react, trying to increase the speed so Dan would be
unable to hit them should he turn to shoot. Possibly
spurred on by a comrade's death or the threat what would
happen if the quarry got away.
shooting, whatever the bastard had told his men, Dan
had to be thankful for the order, that meant to get
him alive, since none of the shots that were fired at
him were aimed at anything beyond incapacitating. Luck
on his side at last, none of the bullets hit, and when
he tried to yell again, he got the guard's attention.
Wide eyes in a round face, the man was falling over
his own feet attempting to open those damned gates as
fast as he could.
made it through, just about, the moment one of the soldiers
had almost reached him by another hundred yards, and
he stumbled a few steps further. Heard the gate being
closed behind him, while his body kept moving forward.
did not see the Ambassador's car, nor the Baroness herself,
who was about to step into the limousine. Blood running
into his eyes again, mixed with sweat and tears of pain,
his lungs burning when pulling in air. Dan broke down,
lost all strength and fell onto his knees, swaying.
The Baroness cried out and he looked up, hardly able
to see anything but a blurry shape.
my God, Dan! What happened?" He felt her hand on
his shoulder, face, head, thought for a moment, she
shouldn't. All that blood. She'd spoil her fine suit,
and her manicured hands, and
was jerked back
to reality with an agonised gasp.
got him!" Coughing blood, the pistol dropped out
of his hand, exhausted. His voice ragged and forced.
KGB got Vadim!"
Dan and Vadim's story continues in the Mercenaries