Thread: Black Market Death (xMILENKOx & Sinfulwolf)

To whom this may concern, My name is Demetri Romanov son of the former president of Solkovia Nikolai Romanov. I am your client and with the entire contents of my fathers swiss bank account I plead to you for help. I need trained soldiers to help bring about a revolution in Solkovia. The millitary dictatorship of General Sergei Gurlukavich has turned this once prosperous nation into filthy slum where criminals run free and the people suffer. I know this news is most likely new to you and you probably dont care, but Iam sure the money is enough to persuade you to help. Yours faithully, Demetri Romanov This is what the email said that was sent to The Agency. The Agency was a private global security force which hires mercenary soldiers to the highest bidder, killers for hire. Demetri was right, the Agency couldnt care less about the situation in Solkovia. Infact neither could the world super powers. Russia being the nearest super power to the eastern European state of Solkovia were happy to let Gurlukavich's tyranny continue whilst he supplied the Russians were a steady supply of natural gas and oil. Though with the entire wealth of Romanov at their disposal the Agency were quick to answer Demetri's call. A team of ten mercenarys were sent to Solkovia. After arriveing in Moscow, the team met up at the Agency's Russian office where they were breifed and prepared. A old army truck that was used by civillians was there transportation. Civilian clothing was also suppiled along sacks and crates to hide weapons and equipment. it had been a long couple of days but eventually the team was in Solkovia. Their destination was a village called Novaska where the Solkovian Revolution was set to begin. The truck shuddered as it drove across the rocky road to Novaska. It had been almost two days since the team left Russia, passing through various millitary checkpoints and villages the team got a sense of what the situation in Solkovia was. The sound of gun fire echoed in the distance whilst the poverty and social injustice was for all to see. This though didnt bother the hardened mercenarys. They had all experiance simmilar situations and killed for cash all over the world. The team leader was ex-SAS officer Nigel Smith, the 46 year old sat in the back of the truck looking out of the back as he casually smoked his final ciggerette. Nigel was a experianced leader and had led soldiers of all nations to victory throughout his mercenary career. Nigel was a tall man standing around 6'3 with a strong build. He was bald with a dark broan goatee beard and blue eyes. Nigel was clad simply in a black fleece hat, a old russian army green over coat, a brown shirt, black fingerless gloves, black trousers and black work boots. Ok ladies and gents get ready to move!.. Nigel called out to his team as they past a signpost for Novaska. Nigel lifted a old duffel bag containing his equipment and slung it over his shoulder as he stood up at the back of the truck ready to exit the truck. With a casual nod the team's demolitions expert acknowledged Nigel's order. This was Ratko 'Bomber Man' Grukov an ex Spetnaz and KGB agent. The nickname bomber Man came from one of his first experiance of captalist life which was playing the 1983 video game Bomber Man, which essentially he was due to his excessive training and knowledge of all things explosive. Ratko was a 53 year old Chechen born Russian, his short black hair was accompanied by black stubble and his eyes were a deep brown. Ratko was built like a ox, staneing around 6'1 with a large strong build. He was clad simply in a black t-shirt, a black bomber jacket, black gloves, black combat pants that were tucked into a pair of black combat boots. As he stood up from his seated posistion in the cornor of the back of the truck he lifted two large sacks contianing all his toys. The heavy russian then stomped over to Nigel's side as he too awaited their arrival. Ratko took a deep breath of the cold air and smiled. Its good to be back... He muttered to himself if a thick russian accent, he had spent most of his time lately in the Africa and Asia. It was obvious he was glad to be back in the cold climate. As the truck drew closer to Novaska everyone began to prepare to exit the truck. The sudden movement in the back of the truck awoke one of the teams younger and less experianced members. 27 year old Chris Roberts was relaxing on a few of the sacks. The young American was about to embark on his first Agency mission. He was fresh out of the marines and desperate for some adventure and a better pay cheque. All ready his inexperiance was begining to show and didnt impress the his more senior team mates. Rubbing his head as he sat up Chris watched as Ratko walked past him slugging two sacks loaded with explosive equipment. Breifly he made eye contact with Nigel whom didnt look to impressed that Chris had slept the entire journey. Chris's arrogance and cock nature were brought on by his skill. His impressive resume made him a must have for the agency after he finished his final tour of Iraq last year. Chris sported a short brown mowhawk with the sides shaved very close to his scalp. His face was dotted with a light stubble and his blue eyes peered out through a pair of black shades. Clad simply in a black vest, black leather jacket, blue jeans and black boots Chris stood up and walked over to Nigel and Ratko. He casually patted Ratko on the back. Its good to be home huh?.. Comrade.. Chris replied in a bad russian accent. Ratko simply looked over his shoulder at the young american and pushed his hand of him. ! Ratko hissed in response before turning around and pushing past Chris. Chris shrugged his shoulders and was quick to take Ratko's previous posistion beside Nigel. Whats his problem?!... Chris asked casually before takeing hold of the side of the trucks back door to balance himself. Nigel grinned simply in response as he looked over chris breifly before looking back at Ratko whom continued to mutter to himself in Russian as he droped his sacks in the cornor he was once previously sat in. Meanwhile in Novaska all seemed quiet. The small farming village seemed to be deserted. The only sounds to be heard were the truck entering the town and the birds who flew on above. The civillian driver drove the truck towards a old barn. As the truck approached the heavy barn doors were opened by two men and the truck was quick to drive into the barn. Soon its engine came to a halt and members of the virgin revolutionary group began to surround the truck. Nigel was first to disembark as he jumped from the back of the truck down to the concreete floor below. So you must be the mercenarys? Asked a man who walked around to the back of the truck acompanied by two young men carrying AK-47s. Nigel looked over the man whom looked so out of place in the village. This man was freshly shaved, his black hair was waxed back and he was clad in a smart grey suit. and you must be the client?.. Mr Romanov, I presume.. Replied Nigel who casually extended his arm offering his hand to the man. The man nodded before takeing Nigel's hand and shakeing it firmly. Please call me Demetri... welcome to Solkovia.. With his greeting finished Demetri took his hand away before leaning towards the truck and looking over Nigel's team. Demetri sighed, he was obviously unhappy to have to resort to mercenarys to help him take back his father's country.