The Light That Failed Pt 24

From the Story Arc: A Fine And Private Place

Previous Story in the Arc: The Light That Failed Pt 23 by Social Medicine (Tuesday, October 11, 2005)

Next Story in the Arc: The Light That Failed Pt 25 by Red Saviour (Tuesday, October 11, 2005)

(posted Tuesday, October 11, 2005)

Agn Stratonik, wearing his CCCP uniform and mask, fell on the gaggle of Crey patrol guards like a tiger. The rage coursed through his veins, and only escalated when the patrolmen dared cock their weapons and aim at him. He shattered the helmet and face of the nearest with a drop kick.

“They’re here! Shoot to kill!” The agent in charge bellowed. Word had spread: CCCP’s fangs were out.

The bullets flew, but Agn was never in the same place long enough to provide a target for these men, as highly trained as they might be. Collarbones snapped, jaws broke, ribs caved in as he whirled about them, wanting – no, craving – to hear the brutal sounds and the sobs of pain.

“Your judgment is upon you,” he said through gritted teeth.

Seven men down in ten seconds. Blood on his fists, blood on the ground, blood on the agent’s Armani suit. The man’s earpiece buzzed. He whispered into the mouthpiece.

“You had better be making funeral arrangements,” Agn said. The agent looked past Agn, then covered his head and screamed.

“Shto?” A colossal thump behind him sent him into a sideways tuck and roll. He came to his feet in fighting position, to face…

A horse.

It reared over the Crey agent, but did not strike him with its hooves. The rider tacked the horse in a high pitched female voice, accented in Russian.

“Oksana?” Agn stared at the woman, finally astride a horse after months of complaining around the HQ. The woman leveled a pistol at him.

“Whoa there, comrade pardner,” she said. “Orders from our honcho. Y’all are to be stopping of renegade behavior and follow orders.”

The idea of this woman bossing him around – judging him – was infuriating. “How dare you? Get out of my way.”

The girl cocked the hammer back. How old were those pistols? “Nyet, buddy. Settle down. You’ll get your chance at them Crey varmints.” She tilted her red Stetson to look into the sky. A familiar glowing figure swooped towards them.

Commissar Red Saviour landed between Oksana and Agn. The horse stirred, and Oksana petted his head and whispered in Russian.

“Your little break is over, Agn.” Red Saviour didn’t look angry at all the blood around him. “Is work to do, down the street.” She pointed at a bank of high rises, and one in particular: Woodbridge Arms. Her grin was the fanged grin of a she-wolf. “Now that you have taste for blood.”

Agn grinned back, under his mask, and threw an impeccable military salute. “I am yours to command, Commissar.”