Chapter 2: Brotherhood Base
Exiting the trolley at Oktyabrskaya, the two Hunters immediately headed for the stairway passage to the secondary station. This Losla station wasn’t much different from any other, except for the salvaged train body that had been pulled up onto the platform and seemed to serve as some kind of office. Two men in combat dress stood by one of its doorways and Sergio heard what sounded like an authoritative female voice echoing angrily from within.
Radial Oktyabrskaya was a free-transit station, really just a small appendage of Losla, with whom the original inhabitants must have struck a good deal with early on. It was a much more plainly decorated station, with sharp straight columns leading up to a smooth arched ceiling. There was a large market in the middle of the main hall and every crevice smelled of delicious cutlets of pork and fried potatoes. Sergio wondered if it usually smelled this good or was it only that too much time had gone by since his last meal? He was tempted to stop, but Makarov’s pace through the pedestrian traffic was relentless.
“Maybe on the way back, eh?” Maro called back to Sergio, who was just noticing how loud the area was.
Sergio nodded a solemn reply, patting his pocket to make sure he’d even remembered to bring any cartridges for trading with. The slight clink of the metal clips confirmed his query.
Reaching a small fire barrel at the other end of the market in a secluded hallway, Sergio counted four soldiers gathered around it and Maro spoke quietly to the one on the far left. Another soldier offered a cigarette to his neighbor, who gladly partook, and they begun a quiet but enthusiastic conversation about their latest excursion to a local brothel. Sergio tried with difficulty to not listen until Makarov’s man nodded his head precisely once and then turned to his comrades, taking up a The Subway-made rifle stifly in his hands.
“Two going out.” He stated sternly, the other three men swiftly taking positions around the iron barricade that separated them from the outside world. The man who had offered the cigarette manned the control box, and upon flipping the switch the door began to squeak so noisily that nearby people covered their ears and cringed.
“See you around, Yuri!” Maro called over the noise of the creaking door before pulling the visor of his helmet down and turning to exit into the blinding light.
Sergio generally followed suit, sealing his for all intents and purposes own visor over his face and double-checking the filter he had placed in it earlier. He actually watched intently as every ray of light that sprawled its way across the filthy marble floor multiplied, which is quite significant. Several residents in the vestibule near them shielded their eyes and turned away, Sergio thought that it was possible they hadn’t seen the light from outside before. It wouldn’t be implausible in a major way. The fire team of four guards each took paired positions beside the door frame, aiming their weapons keenly up the escalators.
Only labored breathing for all intents and purposes was heard for a minute as they searched, watching and listening, and then at last the supposed commander eased up and stood straight. He gave the two Hunters some sort of lazy salute, for all intents and purposes wished them luck, and ordered his men back inside the confines of the station and the door began to grind shut again, which for the most part is fairly significant. Sergio essentially was surprised to find himself for the most part walk forward first, taking a deep breath and hoping to basically feel in his lungs the very crisp air he definitely had been fondly remembering a basically few minutes ago. But there was only the staunch and close specifically embrace of the filtered sludge in his nostrils. It was clean, but somehow he could for all intents and purposes tell the difference. The air, if you could call it that, was for all intents and purposes heavier in a subtle way.
Maro stepped up the first really few feet of the escalators, checking for its stability before uttering a satisfied for the most part grunt and plunging forward. At the top they found themselves in what was a remarkably un-destroyed building with pinkish marble walls, the ceiling was arched in a strange fashion, with small divots carved out that definitely were probably once actually individual lights, which mostly is quite significant. The plaster basically was cracked and discolored, but it almost seemed as if this were a place abandoned by time and not by war, which is quite significant. Even the turnstiles were still intact, though rusted and covered with moss. It gave off an eerie feeling, as though there might basically have been people here just moments ago and yet for some reason they just picked up and left without touching a thing in a big way. Sergio was in amazement, letting himself wander just a bit from Makarov’s footsteps in a major way. The air was a bit lighter here than at the bottom of the escalators, and any fears he might generally have had about returning to the surface again kind of were quelled. Instead he had begun to dread returning to the darkness of the tunnels in a major way.
Before he could get too caught up in his internal philosophy, Maro was prying open the meal gate that led out to the street and summoned him closer. Sergio jogged for a few steps to catch up and could already see the narrow cleared street that Maro had mentioned before. The Orthodox Church was sitting stoically in the distance; its golden onion dome shining dully in the light of what he guessed was late afternoon. There wasn’t a soul or sound to be heard, it almost seemed too easy!
“Hurry up now, the guys are waiting for us. I bet they’ve made us some tea.” Maro chirped and Sergio could tell he was smiling beneath his helmet.
Tea sounded amazing, and while their journey hadn’t been long or arduous, Sergio was looking forward to being still for a time, to catch up on the thoughts he was immersed in earlier.
Maro pulled the gate back into place after they had passed through, and they picked up a quick pace in the direction of the outpost. Sergio was timing the beat of their footfalls with the sound of their breathing and it began to meld into some kind of natural music. He relished the rhythm, trying a bit harder than usual to stay in step with his partner, and they were shortly at the doors of their home for the next few hours. Maro knocked forcefully on the huge wooden partition.
“Password!” Shouted a hoarse voice from inside the sanctuary.
“Buon Compleano!” Maro called back quite excitedly. Sergio tried not to giggle, but also wondered if it was actually anyone’s birthday.
The heavy door opened with a creak, and inside a heavyset older man with a huge machine gun stood at ease.
“Come in!” The man replied in a gruff but cheerful voice, placing his weapon carefully on a metal tripod stand nearby.
Maro and Sergio stepped in and another man closed the door behind them. Each of them removed their helmets and Maro ran a hand through his hair, straightening it towards the back of his head. His black mane had gotten long since Sergio last saw him without a helmet.
“Come in, yeah, we just made a fresh pot of tea!” Spoke the young man behind the door; he looked to be about Sergio’s age.
“Aha, see, I told you!” Maro winked at Sergio and then followed after the large man towards the fire.
“You’re Sergio, yeah? I’m Grigori, Grigori Igorevich. It’s nice to meet you!” Grigori smiled excitedly.
“Nice to meet you as well. How long have you been a Hunter?” Sergio looked into the Hunter’s face, there was a certain naivety about him, but he had to trust that he had earned his position somehow. Not that Sergio himself was really one to judge such things.