As I held the paper in my hand I felt a sinking feeling in my chest, it’s words were my old acquaintances: Multiple targets, search and destroy, eliminate all evidence of excursion; that satisfaction of having a complete idea of the mission did not rest in my heart. The important key words with it: guard positions, commanding officers, equipment, and weaponry were nowhere to be seen. It was like a sandwich without mayonnaise or bread.
I set the operational outline beside me, if you could even call it that, taking out a box with a glorious red star on one side, the face of the righteous Lenin on the other, and between my sustenance cigarettes. I opened the box, sliding one out and stuck it in my mouth, searching my pocket I found my lighter, striking a flame, its glow a haunting blue and hungering orange.
It’s winter comrade.
I closed the lighter, the flames of two years ago still scorched my mind. Such weakness.
“You know,” a grumbling voice said, not sure if the wrinkles on his face were scars or signs of his age, “it is rude to not ask if an old man may share a cigarette with a comrade.”
“These are my personal rations.” I narrowed my eyes at him, pretending to harden my face, “I would be glad to share them.”
“Thank you, Yuri.” He took one as he asked “Say, are you feeling ill?”
I shook my head “Not at all, it’s just the mission.”
“Not as exciting as the others is it?” My commander guessed, holding out his lighter and heating the end of my cigarette.
“No,” I said taking a whiff and breathing out, the smoke mixing with my hot breath looking like a raincloud, the taste reminding me of the military retreat in Ukraine. “It’s the fact that we, the Red Death, are being sent for some routine mopping up mission for the common military.”
“Weren’t you reading the report? They had already sent half a battalion to the target zone. We haven’t heard back from them.”
My eyes almost burst from their sockets “That wasn’t in my report! I didn’t know this was a rescue.”
“It’s not if we are going there.” Sergei leaned over, his beard was as thick as a bear’s backside “We can never say ‘cheers’ with our comrades, and while we may have no songs about us, we may sing the songs of our brothers, for what we do is for them, and what they do is for the people.” He stood, putting his fist in the air “Long live the Soviet Union!”
“Hoorah!” We all yelled out.
“Now, let us not be too bored on this journey my comrades,” Sergei stood up, his hulking mass like a light cruiser “as you are aware our target lies in the forest, and do not forget comrades that this is winter in Siberia and we will not wait for you for rendezvous. Unless you want to die frozen in the snow, keep to the plan, which is: we establish a perimeter around the encampment, we pick off each of the surrounding escapists, lay the charges on the building, detonating their cover, and kill the rest. Questions?”
Silence from the Reapers as usual.
Sergei nodded, a smile creeping across his wrinkled and scarred face “You are all The Union’s finest, and not just to the Night Witches!”
We shared in a sly giggle.
“Now men, let us sing before our fight, to honour our struggle, honour our fellow comrades, to our beloved Soviet people, and to the prosper of our glorious Soviet Union! Long live socialism! Long live Natasha Sokolova, the general secretary! Long live the free people!” He chanted as he began the verse.

“‘Morning skies rippled jack!
Most important, the first step!
Hear: waving over the countryside!
Winds of vicious attacks!’”

We began to stamp our boots in rhythm. I made brief eye contact with Mikael who was flying the helicopter. He smiled but turned back his attention to the skies. I doubt he, a man from Estonia, would understand us Russians as we do. We joined in choir, singing as patriots do:

“‘Our battle begins once again,
And the heart alarms so strongly!
And Lenin is young once again!
A blooming October to be!’”

We set down, the hydraulic landing gear hissing as it kissed the snow. We pulled our balaclavas over our faces, our white hair hidden, standing we faced the back of the transport helicopter. I opened my gun breach making sure it was clear, Ivan throwing me a few magazines. I slid the curved cradle into the gun, Sergei barked the orders as the doors opened.
“Remember comrades: keep radio chatter to a minimum, they may have radio interceptors. We rendezvous at the point at 2400 hours, we exterminate the escapees, we meet back here at 0800 for extraction. Hoorah!”
“Hoorah!” We chimed like war drums.
We swept the area like wolves from a cavern, the snow crushed beneath our boots, our weapons drawn. I moved to the front of the transport helicopter, scanning the tree line for movement. None.
“Clear!” I shouted, followed by the rest saying the same.
Sergei roared “Form up on me, we have a couple dozen kilometres to go, let’s move!”
I turned, keeping my rifle close to me I picked up speed like a rising avalanche. The Reapers kept behind Sergei, his titan body practically a tactical obstruction. The Siberia’s cold was like nothing else, piecing without mercy to my very core. Still, nothing compared to the beauty of a Russian forest after a snowfall. The white frost clung to the branches of the evergreens like icing on a cake, and even here in Siberia, the dusk graced us with its rays, reflecting the light on the snow like white fireworks at military parades, but the clouds on the horizon told a much different story.
I was nudged by a fellow soldier. I turned to see none other than my comrade Viktor. “Did you miss the Union Yuri?”
“Very. The foreign deserts of the Middle East are no place for Russians. We should be here, defending the Motherland from capitalists.”
“Is that what this is?” He huffed
“Sergei believes so. They must have some valuable information as well, otherwise, why would the most secret and proficient force in all the Soviet Union be sent to do a simple mop-up mission? Come, let us save our strength for the fight.”
“Yes, my friend! Best of luck!”

Laying against the snow in our white suits my comrades and I were almost invisible. I counted the black dots on the helmets, three dots in a triangle: Isaak. Three dots in a line: Viktor. Four dots in a rhombus: Zoran. Five dots in a pentagon: Luca. My squad was here.
“We are all here? Luca didn’t have to take a piss halfway here and fall, behind did he?”
“Shut up Isaak.”
“Little cub has grown fangs it seems!” Isaak exclaimed.
I chuckled “He simply is copying the ‘friendly comradery of his elders’, right Isaak?”
“Shut up Yuri.” He echoed.
Viktor raised his hand “I have visual contact. Three-hundred meters. Just outside the cottage.”
I took the binoculars from him. Carefully moving so I could see beyond the hill. A man stood outside the small country home. Stains of red covered the outer walls, the windows smashed, and a suspicious pile of snow twenty meters from the house; a black, frozen hand sticking from the bump in the ground.
“Well at least comrades we don’t have to worry about bystanders. Viktor take aim and await my command.”
“Yes Sir.”
He aimed his Dragunov at the man outside the hut. Meanwhile, I slid down, whistling at our fellow troop. Taking out a red laser marker, I pushed it in Morse code at our battleship sized commander.
Seeing Sergei nod, he blinked back his instructions.
“Viktor. You will take out the man on my signal and stay here, pick off any survivors who escape. Once he is down, we will spearhead the troop and prepare for breach. The rest will secure the windows and back door. Ready?”
They nodded, no doubt the wolves were restless, and they were ready to hunt.
“Take the shot comrade.”
He waited a moment, the man turned his head, looked toward us, and his face was covered in scarlet.
“Let’s move!”
We broke into sprint toward, the country home’s details coming clearer. It seems the blood on the wall was fresher than I thought, still some decaying gore splattered on the brick like if a pig were smashed into paste.
I signalled toward the bodies in the back, pointing toward Isaak and then to the door.
They broke off, ducking down avoiding the windows as myself and Isaak took to both sides of the door. Issak brought out the breach charge, a circular, metal explosive. The rest of the Reapers moved up with us, their shapes harder to see in the ever-increasing snowfall.
“Commander!” Zoran whispered, stress in his voice. “These are Red Reapers! This is Vanya!”
I blinked in disbelief, wiping away the snow that was gathering on the sides of my balaclava. Delta squad had failed the mission? But Vanya’s squad were some of the best of the Red Reapers, no Red Death. What is happening?
“Behind you!”
I whirled around. The man who had been shot was standing back up again. In horror I watched as his glowing eyes turned toward me, a hungry, lustrous gaze fell upon me as the, whatever it was, wailed like a demonic, sickly infant.
A knife jutted out of the monster’s chest, the beast was silenced as it evaporated in Sergei’s arms, the black ashes covering his uniform.
“Pizdec, what the hell was that?” He said wiping the soot-like substance from himself.
“I-I’m not sure comrade.” My voice shook. Weakness. I bit down, I felt my blood turn to steel. “Whatever it was, I’m sure there’s more, we should move back and-.”
The cabin’s door flung open, gunfire howled behind me. I threw myself onto Sergei, dropping both of us to the ground, Death’s whistles over us. I readied my weapon, aiming at the opened door, the origin of the bright tracers burning through the air I attacked with my rifle. Two bodies fell, one more fled into the house.
Isaak shouted from the side of the house “Cyka blyat!” As he threw a grenade into the window, the blast sounding out as the enemy fell like a lifeless doll.
“Advance!” I called out “Check!”
One by one, my comrades slithered threw the windows and doors of the house, a few bullets heralding death from inside. Reaching the door with Sergei under my shoulder, I heard all of them chant in near unison.
“Clear!”
Sergei tossed my arm off him, looking around at the piles of obsidian ashes the dead bodies of our foes had reformed into. In all my years in the Red Reapers, for the first time I shivered in fear. What were they? These couldn’t be normal men.
“Vampires.” Sergei said under his breath.
“You can’t be serious Sergei; an unlisted paranormal threat?” Zoran attempted to calm the men “Intel would’ve listed that in our report, there’s-.”
“Whose report had it then?! That we’d be facing the undead?” He cried out, no one responding. “Base sent us with a mission. Kill the rebels, and do you see any other than these vampires? No, then we are to kill them. If anyone has anything defiant to say, please kill yourselves when I turn my back.”
He turned, no one moved an inch.
“Well it seems we are all Red Death and not whining children. Yuri, sweep the house, I need a troop stationed outside in case reinforcements come, my squads come with me. Everyone else with the second in command!”
“Yes Sir. Follow me, we have a house to sweep.”
“Contact!” Viktor screamed sprinting toward us, firing his rifle on the move as he drove himself through the front door.
Taking to the windows we saw the terrors galloping through the woods at us, their feet moving at devious speeds. Even though we saw the blood blossom from their bodies, they didn’t stop, their cavalry-like charge was unstoppable.
“Viktor,” I yelled through the firefight. “We need that Dragunov shooting, the attic window!”
“Yes Sir!” He scrambled up the stairs, hugging the wooden floor as he found his way up the stairs.
Glass shattered all around us, they had finally opened fire, and along with the rain fell a batch of my comrades. We returned fire, but the supernaturally gifted enemy had already found cover.
“Sergei, they will flank us!”
“Flee through the windows and cover our rear!”
I nodded to Luca, Mikhail, and Zoran. We slipped through the windows, diving through the gore covered windows into the thickening snow. The cold was like an animal’s bite, painful and violent. Nevertheless, we took the sides of the cabin and began firing at the glowing eyes in the woods. Targeting a blonde man with a pistol, I saw his skull open, blood bursting from his wound along with bits of his brain.
“Target the head, it slows them down!”
A hiss came from behind me, rows of teeth greeted my gaze. I grabbed my knife, thrusting it into his throat, feeling it slid between vertebrae as his body vanished. My eyes widened.
“Target their necks, severe the neck and they die!”
Another to my left, I pulled out my Makarov and blasted the vampire in his throat, his ashes covering my entire body. I blinked, rubbing my eyes as I cried out, keeping my knife and pistol in front of me and landing on my back, my mind flashing back to bear attack training.
Legs and arms up protecting the vitals. Breath through the mouth, calm your mind. Pizdec, if only I were strong like Sergei.
If almost on cue, the sky was blackened by a man diving through the window above me. Rubbing the rest of the ashes out of my eyes, I saw Sergei signalling a tactical retreat. I quickly followed, stomping boots and flying snow making visibility almost impossible. I didn’t even bother looking back, the only thing happening in my mind was the unthinkable fate of my comrades who refused to retreat in the cabin.
“Grenade!” Sergei ordered as he threw a potato-shaped object over me.
I flew myself hands-first into a snowdrift that escalated the hill, the snow embraced me like a mother as soon my entire body was wrapped in it. The force of the explosion hitting me, blackening my vision.

Opening my eyes darkness and a lack of air greeting me, so I confirmed I was still in fact in the snowdrift. I reached for my arm with my other hand, causing me to sink deeper into the snow. Whether it was ice or cold sweat going down my back I didn’t know, nor had time to care about. I hit the distress beacon on my tactical watch and started to well up my saliva in my mouth. Pulling my mask down, which sunk me deeper into the snow, I spat with all the force I could at the snow in front of me and started head-butting it. Step one: create space to breath. Moving on to step two: figure out orientation.
I turned on a light on my tactical watch, it’s green beams shining up at me, I felt a certain sickness for some reason, like if I were in a G-simulator for a few hours. I spat again, the saliva going up and falling on my face. I was upside-down.
I took some quick breaths, grasping at the snow.
“‘Reach for the Kremlin, and don’t let go’!” I quoted my superior as I raked my arms quickly upward. Soon my head was the right way up, the snow trying to swallow me deeper as I struggled to climb faster than it sunk me.
I must get back to my comrades, they need me!
My hand bursting from the snow, it was luck it was a shallow snowfall, otherwise who knows how far down I could’ve been buried. It was midday, the sun beat from the clouds, the heat saluting my efforts.
Leaping from the snowdrift and climbing up the hill, I felt something else rest on my glove that sweat and snow, but thick and wet blood. I looked up, the frozen over face, so young yet touched with our cursed white hair. Luca, and his dead green eyes looked up at me.
“Luca.” I said feeling his frozen face, he was the texture of a year-old ration. “Comrade please do not tell me.”
Surveying around me I saw the nightmare. Torn off arms and legs strewn about, the bodies of my comrades laying around ungracefully, and the smell of death in the air. However, so was the ground covered in blankets of black ashes as far as the air could see. My heart twisted as the flames of two years ago clawed my insides.
“Sergei!” I screamed “Anyone, please!”
“Yuri!”
I jolted up, the voice, that deep, hearty voice sounded like a trumpet through the silent Siberian air. In a flash I was at it’s source, the open-wounded commander, the red titan, Sergei.
“Sergei, what happened comrade?”
“They thwarted our retreat, I stayed behind to keep them at bay, then one of them got lucky and ripped my chest open. Where were you comrade?”
“Swallowed up by a snowdrift, your grenade knocked me out.”
“Oh, I apologize-.” He hacked up a pool of blood.
“Comrade,” I took his head in my lap, the blood seeping into my pants, “do not speak, it dampens your strength, any moment now either Captain Smirnova or Mikeal are going to come and rescue us both-!”
“Yuri, even Lenin had to die. Great things will eventually wither away and crumble, do not waste your time over an old reaper, this is how I imagined and wanted it, fighting for my country and dying for my country. That is commitment Yuri, beyond everything else, service makes the man, sacrifice is what makes the man a hero.”
“Please commander, I beg of you, do not leave your comrade alone.”

“‘Our battle begins once again,
And the heart alarms so strongly…
And Lenin is young once again…
A blooming October to be’.”

With one final chorus, his eyes wandered and darkened.
I cried out like a wounded dog, and what I thought impossible happened. Wet, salty, pure and twinkling tears came from my eyes. They fell over the face of my dead Sergei, drawing lines in his frostbitten face. No more late nights drinking vodka, breaking each other’s bones, and sneaking in the western music from the propaganda office, dancing until the sun rose with the Night Witches.
“One more order Sergei, just one please.” My voice breaking “Sergei!”