Previous part: https://hive.blog/fighting/@penguinpyro1/the-new-russian-colossus
Undisclosed Location in Texas
June 2020
Hank grunted hard, summoning the last breath left in his body for one more, just one more repetition. Sweat trickled down his face as he mustered up his final reserves for one final push. The enormous, nearly bald fifty-something Russian man, with a body almost the size of a small car, prepared his body for one more bench press in the woods.
A female voice interrupted him. He nearly dropped what he was lifting.
"Comrade Sokolov! It is good to see you have recovered well from the battle with Reinhardt."
KGB Colonel Dasha Ivanova, a lean brunette woman, walked on the untamed grass to where Hank was lifting. Every last movement of hers, even simple footsteps, was calculated, precise, and ready to spring into action any moment. She looked at Hank detachedly, but not coldly. A muscular Russian man nearly as large as Hank stepped up behind Dasha. Boris Drago gave Hank a curt nod.
Hank strained to speak, then slowly relaxed to stand up and to let his arms and his burden fall to his side- a fully grown American black bear. The bear moaned plaintively at Dasha, it's dark brown eyes seemingly pleading for her to save it from the Russian giant clutching it by the waist.
Dasha's eyes furrowed in bemusement. "Comrade Sokolov, this is your… training regimen?", she asked.
Hank seemed to find his breath. "Da, Comrade Ivanova. American bears are too small compared to great Russian brown bear, so this is fifteen-repetition set, only for endurance."
Dasha looked at Boris with a bit of disbelief. Boris gave Hank a thumbs-up and a solemn look of approval.
Boris said, "Comrade Sokolov is correct, Dasha, Americans bears are almost not worth the trouble to chase."
The black bear moaned again, weakly struggling in Hank's clutch. Hank looked down and gave it a sharp, low growl. The bear froze in fright, as it had moments prior when he was lifting it.
Hank chuckled. "They are coward like American too. Russian bear would keep fighting as you lifted, full body workout." He blew a kiss with one hand, then quickly returned the hand to holding the bear. "Mwah! The Motherland provides for us all. No wonder Americans need robot and steroid to be strong, no good bears to lift!"
"Comrade Sokolov, we are of one mind, I cannot agree more!" said Boris. The wide smile on his lips narrowed as the Russian veteran contained his joy and tilted his head towards Dasha. "But… I believe Comrade Ivanova had more greatly pressing concerns than your training arrangements?"
"Da, we need to talk, Comrade Sokolov", said Dasha. Her expression was dead serious as usual.
"Very well, allow me a moment", said Hank. He roughly set the bear down on the ground. Dazed from its ordeal, the American black bear stumbled in dizziness, then cautiously turned around to stare at Hank. He gave it a stony stare, and stamped his enormous foot down. The bear startled, then ran off, moaning and baying in distress for all to hear.
"What do you wish to discuss, comrade?", said Hank, beaming from the endorphins of a good workout.
Dasha said, "You have performed well against the German circus dog Kronin Reinhardt, even despite the illegal involvement of his upstart sister in the battle. The Kremlin is pleased, exceptionally pleased. That is not what concerns me today, no, it is our next opponent. The Khan."
Hank's smile slowly guttered out and died. Boris looked on gravely.
Dasha continued speaking, "We've done our studies on this 'Chuluun Bold', he's torn through luchadors for years on end, no small feat, and has a track record longer than even yours in the arts of wrestling. His loss to the cyborg WENDE was dramatic, but the Kremlin has determined she is a cyborg made for unknown military purposes. Her very existence bothers me as well, but the primary information which concerns you, comrade Sokolov is that there is no discredit to the Khan that he lost to her. Bold will be a devastating opponent. The Mongolian lifestyle has made him strong, we Russians understand our neighbors are forged by the steppes as we are by the tundra. Our next battle will be uphill."
"I am no stranger to Mongolian strength myself." said Hank. "Truth be told, I am bothered by my performance against Reinhardt as well. It is a problem on both ends we will be facing in the next battle."
Boris and Dasha opened their eyes wide and briefly glanced sideways at each other. After an exchange of eye contact, Boris seemed to want to speak first.
"Comrade Sokolov", he said, "You performed well against a heavily enhanced opponent who cheated with outside involvement. You were even well enough to assist Dasha in the main event brawl, a feat which has our gratitude, surely." Boris glanced at Dasha for confirmation. Dasha subtly nodded, to his relief.
"No, comrades, I must tell you, you are wrong." said Hank, his expression dark. He looked down. "I nearly came to defeat by that… Machine Lord."
"Machine Lord, comrade Sokolov?" asked Dasha.
Hank pushed a fist-sized stone with his foot, knocking it up against a nearby tree. "Yes, a Machine Lord. In my time with the Altan Ord, the Grand Duck has made clear his disdain of electrical technology, viewing it as weakness and sin both. I cannot bring myself to disagree, these American army men with their fancy 'heads-up diss plays' and 'fire support tar of getting' could not stop the Ord with our horses and rifles."
He leaned against a sturdy-looking tree with his elbow. It creaked under his immense weight. He continued, "Reinhardt has not enhanced himself, but rather he has surrendered to the foul clutches of the Machine Lords which control this weakling technology. The Machine Lords are addictive and they control the vulnerable more than any mortal slavemaster or state ever could. It was a mercy, much more than Bundeswehr scum deserved, that I showed Reinhardt that his 'enhancements' were nothing but a shortcut to failure, but that I struggled to do so is disgraceful. I must be better. I must shatter the next Machine Lord I face utterly, or else I am not worthy to carry this message of the Ord."
Dasha closed her mouth when she realized it had been open for some time. "Uh, well, Comrade Sokolov, that is one way of looking at it yes." she said. "Our concerns were more that… Boris?"
Boris, at a loss for words, simply shook his head.
Dasha sighed and said, "Bold's loss to the mysterious cyborg should be taken as a matter of course, no diminishment of his might. And therefore should your difficulty against Reinhardt be considered expected and quite reasonable, all considered. Unfortunately, American wrestling is bloodsport, so such enhancements will continue to escalate and we will do what we can to try to neutralize their advantage with our own resources. But in the next match, the enemy will be flesh and blood. Chuluun Bold included. We must face him first before we consider the…. Machine Lords."
Boris chimed in, "To that end, we shall discuss strategy and evaluate records of Bold's past performance in battle-"
Hank raised his chin up high, towering well over Dasha and slightly elevated over Boris. "No!", he blurted, "No talk! There is only way that Hank Sokolov trains for a worthy opponent, and it is through live steel and flesh!" He dramatically jabbed an index finger forward at no one in particular. "I will prepare battles against both types of foes, there is time before the next fight! It is a matter of spiritual importance that I demonstrate my true strength against Machine Lords before I immerse myself in the wrestling ways of a foreign Ord. That is the only way I could possibly be prepared! Comrades, you are welcome to join me in the festivities."
Before either Boris or Dasha could respond, Hank bellowed "VAMPIRE! GET OVER HERE! I AM READY TO BEGIN THE ARRANGEMENTS!" His deep voice cut clean through the trees, birds fleeing the as the woods carried his bellow.
"Vampire…?" asked Boris and Dasha simultaneously.
A young woman with long black hair, wearing a basketball jersey over a smooth frilly black dress, popped out of the underbrush in front of the three Russians.
"You!", said Dasha. "Hank's Altan Ord assistan-"
"Watch out!", said Boris. He stepped in front of Dasha and drew a pistol with practiced ease and leveled it at the young woman.
The woman carried a smartphone in one hand, but in her other hand was the mangled corpse of some very unfortunate furry mammal. Her mouth was quite full and her chin dripped with a fair bit of blood.
"Oh, crap. Sorry!", said the woman. "Did you want some?" She extended her arm and proffered the bloody carcass. A bit of blood sprayed from her full mouth as she talked.
Dasha kept her hand on her hip, ready to burst into action at the first provocation. Boris kept his gun leveled at the woman. Neither Russian backed down from the shocking sight.
"No, Russians do not eat raw meat, THNG." said Hank. He stepped in front of THNG and pushed her offered carcass back to her. "Boris, Dasha, my apologies, I neglected to inform you that my friend here is a vampire. I did not think it was relevant to our battle against the capitalists."
THNG gulped, not out of fear, but because her mouth was full. "Yeah, sorry guys. Don't worry, I'm not the contagious kind of vampire. I don't even like to bite people!" She took a massive bite from the mangled animal, splattering fur and guts onto her basketball jersey. "Oh yeah thash thgood schtuff!"
"Indeed, she is the only one I have ever met in my travels", said Hank. "It is not of much concern to us."
Seeing Boris' clear reluctance to stop pointing the gun at her, Hank said "Boris… Dasha… THNG is my assistant. I need her to navigate technologies. As a vampire, her soul is already claimed by the fullness of Entropy, so she cannot be corrupted by the Machine Lords. Therefore, she is able to operate technological means that I am unable and unwilling to."
"Such as this!" THNG held up the smartphone, clearly undeterred from making sudden movements by the gun pointed at her. "Praise Rando!"
"Praise Rando. Death to the Machine Lords." said Hank fervently. "Did you place the advertisement on the List of Greg, THNG?"
"Yah!" she said, showing a bit of fangs as her mouth opened. She glanced up at the smartphone. "One cybernetic German man with wrestling experience who is not Kronin Reinhardt! And oh, we have a hit already!"
"Already?", said Boris, despite his clear alarm and the pistol he had pointed at THNG's chest. He lowered his gun slightly.
Dasha managed to relax enough to put her hand aside, still ready to move, but not immediately threatening to draw a weapon.
"Yes, we have no time to waste!", said Hank. "He is willing to meet us at the designated site?"
"Yeppers!", said THNG.
"Comrade Sokolov, are you sure this is a good idea?" , said Dasha.
"It is the only way Hank Sokolov trains. Have no fear, it will be a friendly sparring match. Let's go!", said Hank.
Hank and THNG ran out of the woods, kicking up a storm of leaves on their way out.
"Okay, what just happened?", said Dasha.
"It seems Comrade Sokolov has ditched us to fight a clone of Reinhardt.", said Boris, not entirely sarcastically.
"Come on Boris, if Sokolov wishes, he can have fun by himself with his pet vampire and pet German. We have other matters to deal with." said Dasha. She fumed and stomped back out of the woods.
--------
The German man was already waiting for them at their meeting place. He was solidly built, with medium-length dark red hair, dull blue eyes and a solid square chin. Not nearly as big as Boris or Hank, a fair bit shorter than Kronin Reinhardt, but still plenty large enough to give Hank a good fight. He looked around the empty venue.
"I bet it wasn't cheap to hire out the entire gym for this. I'm hoping you didn't skimp on my fee?", the man said. Hank sensed a mild but genuine West German accent behind the man's deep, measured voice.
"All in advance, I am completely a man- and she a vampire- of our word." said Hank, gesturing to THNG at his side. He pushed forward a duffel bag of cash. "The Grand Duck's contacts said you were as well."
The German man picked up the bag and said to Hank, "Relax, I didn't get these implants by being quick to run. I’m Auchs. Frederick Auchs. That's about all you'll know about me. I'm not at liberty to chat, shall we say." He pushed the bag around a corner, and an unseen party took it out of sight.
Auchs turned back to Hank. extended a gloved hand from his light leather jacket and Hank noticed the augmentations. The man's wrist was entirely made of layered, circuited metal.
Following Hank's gaze, the man said, "I can disclose this- full arm and leg replacements, both sides. You wanted a German cyborg to fight, yes? For what purpose is not my business, of course."
Hank nodded. "Indeed. I am Hank Sokolov, and my proposed terms: fully unarmed, professional shoot rules, first to pinfall, best of five. No bell or timer. The vampire is referee, not participant. Possible damage to your machine arm and machine leg is not anything I am responsible for."
"Please, I have sufficient faith in my cybernetics." said Auchs.
Auchs kept his robotic hand extended. Hank reached forward and they shook on it. They walked back on opposite sides of the main gym floor mat. Auchs removed his leather jacket to show a short-sleeved black shirt. Hank, in his usual red Soviet leotard, cracked his knuckles.
"Ding ding!", said THNG from the sidelines.
Hank darted forward, and threw a sharp jab at Auchs. Auchs parried and struck Hank with a gloved palm to the face. Hank ignored the frontal blow with his usual lack of grace and gripped the side of Auch's head with both hands. As Auchs slapped both hands aside, the Russian dove forward for a devastating headbutt.
Auchs snapped back to narrowly avoid the headbutt, and punished Hank's overreach with a hard right hook to the jaw. Hank staggered back slightly and as Auchs lunged forward to exploit the opening, Hank suddenly reversed and dove down under Auchs for a hard low tackle. Auchs slammed a double fist into Hank's back as Hank shoved Auch down.
Auchs's cybernetic legs whirred in protest of Hank's attack and Hank found that he could not budge the German's stance. Another hard fist thumped on Hank's back and the Russian grimaced slightly. He stood up suddenly, grabbing Auchs under his armpits and lifting. Auchs countered by wrapping both hands around the back of Hank's head and quickly shoving one knee onto Hank's abdomen to keep his distance even in the grapple. Hank didn't intend to draw Auchs close though, he instead kept Auchs at arm's length and transitioned to a fireman's carry. Auchs tried to hook an arm under Hank's armpit as Hank manuevered, but wasn't fast enough to stop Hank from sideslamming the cyborg hard. The thud onto the mat resonated through the entire building's frame.
Auchs, stunned from the drop, stared confusedly as the gym mat grew darker, then with sudden realization narrowly rolled out of the way of Hank's big splash. Hank flopped hard onto the mat and Auchs in turn landed on the large Russian with a hasty elbow drop which transitioned to a back mount elbow chokehold.
Hank bucked hard, but Auchs, smaller though he was, was still too heavy to easily throw off. Hank tried to yank off Auch's arms, but they tightened hard. Inhumanly hard. Hank felt himself getting faint. He stood up shakily, slowly with a strangled yell of rage, taking up Auchs with him. Step by step, Hank got up to his feet, his entire face dark red. The German man dangled onto Hank by his arms. Hank then raised both hands up and dove backwards, crushing Auchs under his weight. Auchs tried to roll out, but Hank slammed both arms at his sides onto the mat to raise himself up a foot, then dropped back down onto Auchs, giving the German another hard blow with his enormous Russian bulk.
Hank then rolled over, and lifted the dazed Auchs up. He dropped the German cyborg down onto his knee and then down onto the mat and covered him.
"One! Two! Three! Pin! Hank does it! One pin for Hank Sokolov!", said THNG from beside the two grappling men.
"I'm not done yet!", muttered Auchs, from underneath Hank. He shoved Hank off.
Hank smiled and got back up to his feet.
---------
"… Two! Three! Pin! Three pins for Hank Sokolov!" said THNG. She pounded the mat with every sentence.
An exhausted Hank Sokolov dropped Auch's robotic arm to fall by the German man's side and got up.
"Best of five, as was promised. Three pins for me, one for you." said Hank.
Hank unsteadily helped the German man to his feet. Both of them were drenched with sweat and almost as red as Hank's leotard.
"Was good fight, comrade!", said Hank. He slapped Auchs on the back.
"Ja, I haven't had such a fight for almost two years. You may well be the largest person I have ever fought, and a lot faster than the next biggest fellow. Was well worth traveling here." said Auchs.
Auchs made a beckoning gesture, and someone outside the room pushed a box into the corner. Auchs smiled, walked over to it and retrieved a pair of light brown bottles. "Beer?", he said, offering one.
Hank, still sitting and panting, grinned and accepted the drink. "You are not bad, for a German. Or a machine."
Auchs smiled and took a long swig from his bottle. "And you are not bad for a Russian the size and weight of a tractor."
Hank laughed raucously. "I have had many fears about fighting an enhanced opponent, and have learned many things today that I will apply to rending another cyborg I have in mind, limb from limb. Mm, this is fine beer. I am vodka man, but this makes me almost change preference."
Auchs said, "Only the finest for warriors like us. I am glad you got what you sought. " They clinked bottles.
Auchs suddenly swiveled his gaze away from Hank and stared at a sight. "Is …. Is that girl drinking from a frog? Is that… blood?"
Hank shrugged. "Our drinking must have got her thirsty too."
---------------
Greenville, New Mexico
2 days later
Hank and THNG dismounted from the American-made helicopter. Hank gave the pilot a thumbs up and spoke a code phrase in Russian. The pilot saluted and took off, kicking up dirt and dust everywhere.
"Kind of the Kremlin to just give us a ride!" said THNG.
"They are fond of me for now because I triumphed over the German dog Reinhardt. It is well, because I may need to ask greater favors of them later. This is why it is so important we defeat Bold and bring honor to our great Federation in our next battle." said Hank. "If we are left out in cold, it will only bring defeat and more defeat in vicious cycle."
Hank took a deep breath of the early morning air. The Pacific Northwest was nothing compared to even Russian summer. THNG, for her part, didn't seem to mind the cold.
Despite its name, the rolling hills of Greenville were covered in yellowing grass, the result of a nuclear winter partly blocking the sun. Today, however, things were bright for Greenville. As in the flames of the village rising ever higher.
Scenes of battle littered the plains on the two Ordlings' way to town. THNG and Hank stepped past the flaming wrecks of modified pickup trucks, equipped with machine guns as well as ad-hoc armor plating. The odd military fighting vehicle supplemented the burnt-out truck wrecks and butchered corpses. Most of the bullet-and-arrow-filled corpses had long been stripped of armor, outerwear and weapons, so the main signs of their armed involvement were rifles broken beyond easy repair and the odd bit of tactical gear strapped to civilian clothing. Massive craters and pits enveloped the grass, as if a shower of meteors had bombarded the land before the horde charged in to obliterate what was left.
Must have taken out another warlord around here, thought Hank. He raised his head in pride as he and THNG appreciated the slaughter littering their path into town.
The burning city had long been extirpated, the only signs of its unfortunate inhabitants were currently occupying its many fires.
In on the edge of town, amidst the stench of burning human fat and the smoke-stained cratered walls of the city, the Altan Ord prepared to move on. The warriors of the Ord murmured as Hank strolled into town.
In a mere moment, the Ord's traveling formation parted to reveal an enormous, rhinoceros-sized pale horse with severed human heads strapped to its flank. Saddled atop the horse sat a small golden-brown-furred duck-billed creature about two feet tall. The duck creature's small beady eyes practically blazed with an omnidirectional hatred that was just short of being actually luminous. This creature was none other than Grand Duck, leader of the Altan Ord, one of the United States' most feared warlords among the West Coast anarchy of 2020.
The Grand Duck's eyes narrowed when he saw Hank.
"My lord!" said Hank, falling to one knee, one fist on the ground. THNG echoed his pose beside him.
"Dak dak", ordered the Grand Duck. All the Ord warriors present dispersed past them in short order, leaving the Grand Duck with Hank and THNG. The Duck stayed mounted on his absolutely massive horse.
Hank. The Duck's voice coolly reverberated in Hank's head. They were alone without the uninitiated present, so the Duck could talk as it preferred to. Without the need to explain a lack of audible speech to outsiders, Hank noted. It is also well that the Duck can only speak and not listen through this means, or else he may flay me alive before I can explain recent events properly.
I did not expect you so soon, Hank, said the Duck, into Hank's mind. The Duck's voice never displayed softness or kindness. These words were as much accusation as statement. The Duck's beady, compassionless eyes dug into Hank's soul, and the Russian tried not to look into them.
"My khan, I genuinely did not plan to return anywhere in the near term! But we are facing exceptional oppone-" said Hank.
Elaborate. Hank flinched at the sharpness of the Duck's tone.
"Kronin Reinhardt. A man who has been physically corrupted by the Machine Lords, with circuitry embedded in his body. I showed him the error of his unnatural ways, but it was difficult. I atoned by doing battle with a certain Frederick Auchs and developing strategems to fight similar enhanced opponents."
Ah, Auchs. A very worthy foe, honorable and clever. Show me their scalps, said the Duck.
"Pardon, great khan?" asked Hank.
Reinhardt and Auchs. I want to see their scalps! The Duck's small eyes narrowed.
Hank gulped. It was not in any way a request.
"The… Reinhardt's match was not to the death. And Auch's presence was conditional on his cooperation. I gave my word on that."
They serve the MACHINE LORDS, boy! The only place they belong is on the edge of my axe or in the ground! NOWHERE ELSE! Your word, my word, all words, worthless compared to KILLING the Machine Lords and ALL underneath them.
The Duck started to stand up. Hank went pale and he hardly noticed his profuse sweating amidst the tightness of panic in his chest. THNG whimpered and kept her eyes focused on the ground.
"Yes khan!", Hank barely managed to say. "Please hear me out! The match was a ritual humiliation of Reinhardt. His sister… they conspired to cheat in the match through her intervention, so my Russian comrades beat the sense out of her, my lord! We dominated them in a way that goes beyond death. We showed the world on national television the Machine Lords' dishonor, their vulnerability! The greater world is weak and not yet ready for death in their blood sport, but we have paved the way for a final destruction of the Machine Lords!"
The Duck stopped moving and remained half-seated where he was.
Hank continued, his tongue loosened by terror, "By showing… the people that we do not need to even kill them in order to overcome the Machines. They can begin to understand the Machine Lords' offers of power and satiation are false in a manner they are familiar with. If I killed Reinhardt on national television, it would only drive them away and harden their hearts, great khan. Please, it is a complicated situation."
That it is, the Duck replied immediately. I had forgotten that the greater world has entirely forgotten the face of death. You are in a den of wolves nonetheless, and must abide by their pathetic imagination of what natural law might look like. Very well. And Auch, though a Machine Lord, may live to further our cause against his kind, in a fit of cosmic irony. This may please Rando.
"Praise be to Rando, our Goddess of Chaos", muttered Hank.
"Praise Rando!", said THNG.
Praise be to Rando. This will merely suffice for now, said the Duck. Hank almost cringed at the implied rebuke. He knew it was testament to their close relationship that the Duck's disappointment didn't do much more.
More importantly, you have not crawled back to me for a mere situation report. The Duck said it absolutely matter-of-factly and Hank could not deny its truth.
"Yes, khan. We face an imminent threat in Chuluun Bold", said Hank. "A khan of genuine steppe lineage, who has been hardened in the forges of Mexico, clashing against their finest."
*Chuluun… * The Grand Duck paused for half a minute, deep in thought. Yes, I recall now. A name whispered among the many hordes, before I seized on the American situation. Yes, I understand why you bother me with your trivial wrestling matters now. He is true competition. He could easily lead a horde like mine, but has chosen to harden his body crippling and destroying hundreds of powerful men, one at a time. Men like Bold are exactly what it would take to seize control of the Ord and steer us from our holy task of achieving universal Entropy. Thus he must be. Cut. Down!
Hank made a hesitant "uh…"
Hank and THGN cringed at the loud static growl of raw psychic frustration intruding into their minds.
The Duck took a moment to gather his composure and said, I forget myself and that is my shame. I gave my word to allow you to conduct business in the greater world according to their laws, and unlike the world of the soft, my word is my personal law, as absolute as my will. Though the greater world's aversion to slaughter is an insult to Entropic Truth, I will abide by it and temper my expectations of you, Sokolov! Now, the task at hand….
"Yes, great khan…?", asked Hank, fighting the urge to turn and flee.
There is only a single way to overcome the Khan-In-Being, Chuluun Bold. Travel to Mongolia, where the hordes roam, and break them upon your knee. As many as you please, until you tire of it and are ready to face the Khan. Kill them freely, endlessly, boundlessly until death itself flees from you, then you will be ready. The more you kill, the more deeply you will drink of the truth of the Steppes: only the strong survive. YOU.
The Duck allowed Hank and THNG a moment for the words to sink in, then tugged on the reins of his horse, turning himself around. With all finality, the conversation ended.
Hank and THGN knelt in the brisk Idaho autumn air, left entirely alone. The air was silent but for the occasional scream of a villager and the crackle of flames consuming the town.
"So, uh… what do we do now, Hank?" said THNG, turning to Hank.
"We call in a big favor with the Kremlin", said Hank. He grimly pursed his lips.
----------
Undisclosed Location in Texas, GRU safehouse
July 2020
"Sources are still unsure of where the armed terrorist group known as the Altan Ord managed to acquire the BM-31 rocket artillery early this May. Federal authorities pointed to the suspected involvement of agents of the Russian Federation operating within American borders and suggest it may be related. The Kremlin has stridently denied all accusations and blamed the European branch of the Altan Ord for raiding a Russian forward base in Ukraine, and also blamed American border security for failing to keep smuggled weapons out of the States.
International onlookers have noted tensions between Washington and the Kremlin over the matter, and also for the defeat of the ever-popular ‘People's Champion’ Valora Salinas partly at the hands of Russian veterans Dasha Ivanova and Boris Drago in Ultimate Wrestling. President McStrump addressed these concerns on social media late last night and spoke highly of Russian President Putin's honesty and the high level of trust between President McStrump and President Putin.
Nonetheless, senior Washington officials are alarmed at the continued activity of the heavy Russian artillery in the hands of terrorists and are calling for deployment of a full corps of the National Guard to decisively defeat the Altan Ord. McStrump has so far refused this request. American military leaders cite the Ord's near-seizure of Kirtland Air Force Base just over a week ago as a preview of what may come if the Ord is not stopped."
"HA! American fools!" Boris snorted as he turned to Dasha. "McStrump is in our hands now! Wait… " He paused a moment, thinking over what he had heard. “Does the Ord even have a European branch?”
"No, no it does not..” Dasha glanced over Boris' shoulder at the TV as she cleaned her gun on the kitchen table. “Comrade Drago, are you not worried that Sokolov has disappeared? The next Ultimate Wrestling event will be soon, and he is missing in action!"
"It will be fine", said Boris. "He can hand-"
"In other news, Mongolian authorities are also pointing fingers at the Kremlin, accusing a rogue Russian agent of attacking and injuring many local militia members, some say at least one hundred to two hundred, in inner Mongolia over the course of the last two weeks. No fatalities have been reported, but the Mongolian National Police Agency has mobilized forces in response and called the attacks a major outbreak of terrorism. The Kremlin has denied all knowledge and involvement. More details to come, after this break."
"Huh." said Boris. "That doesn't sound like one of ours."
Dasha shrugged. "Comrade Putin has many fingers in many pies. Who knows?" She wiped clean another piece of her gun.
The door slammed open. Boris leveled his pistol at the huge man walking in. Dasha suddenly had a throwing knife in hand, ready to throw.
Hank Sokolov swayed as he stood in the doorway, swaddled in battered Mongolian lamellar armor over his CCCP leotard. Bloodied bandages and bruises adorned whatever showed of his skin.
"Comrades, it has been one hell of a month", said Hank. The rings under his eyes spoke more than he did.
"What in St Basil… what were you doing?" asked Dasha. She stowed away her knife. "We were worried about you, comrade Sokolov!"
Hank said, "I visited Grand Duck, he gave me advice to fight many Mongolian men in order to best understand the Khan Chuluun Bold. So I did. It was not easy."
Boris pointed at the TV in disbelief. "They said you assaulted two hundred men on the television!"
"Oh no, that was not me comrade, it must have been someone else who defeated so few. I stopped counting after four hundred, thirty-one Mongolian horde members, I think" said Hank. "To tell the truth, I am very tired."
"You should have at least told us before running off to Mongolia!" said Dasha.
"Bah! You are not my babushka.", said Hank. He wearily stumbled forward and laid down on the couch beside Boris. "I think I will take break nowzzzzhghzhzzz--"
Hank went out like a light, firmly unconscious next to a very alarmed Boris Drago.
Dasha kneaded her temples and returned to her seat. "How are we going to explain this to the Kremlin?!"