| "Hidden Truths" | |||
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Level Five May 12th, 2008, 1817 hours He walked into the gym, noticed the others but said nothing, instead walking over to the weights. He selected a heavy set and began lifting them, feeling the weight as he worked his arms, steadily repeating the motion, ignoring the sensations emanating from his muscles. The others around him did not attempt to communicate with him; they could see he was completely focused and that suited him fine. He didn't want them to know what he was thinking, what he was feeling, for he feared that they would judge him, and judgement was not something he could face at present. He needed to be completely focused on the `mission', at the peak of his abilities. He had to be not just The Rifle, but Rifle. The `mission' required him to become something far more deadly than he had ever been. The Rifle was one of the most dangerous men on the planet; Rifle would be something he couldn't even imagine. The burning that he felt in his arms quickly subsided and became nothing more than a dull ache. He felt as though he had lived his entire life with the ache, and before long he stopped registering it, instead concentrating on keeping his rhythm. The weights began to feel heavier but he did not stop, instead he decided to increase the tempo and punish himself further, wishing to exhaust himself as much as possible. Two hours later he was exhausted; his arms were numb and his clothing soaked from sweat. Despite this he headed straight for the lift and worked his way outside and into the woods. He ran for eight miles, never stopping, never slowing, continuing at a gruelling pace until he finished up at the shooting range. Every part of his body felt fatigued but he didn't stop. Standing at the far end of the range he composed himself, controlling his breathing and picturing the target in his mind. He had set the timer to `random', and so he waited for the beep. It came after an indeterminable amount of time. The silenced pistol went from the small of his back to being aimed at the turning target in a split second, and before the target had fully turned there was a single hole in the centre. Closer inspection of the target would have revealed that the hole was made by two bullets, the second passing through the hole made by the first. This feat was repeated as he shot ten clips worth of ammunition in the hour, chalking up yet another perfect score. He returned to the changing room on Level Five and showered and changed. Plekhanov Residence May 12th, 2008, 2151 hours Twenty minutes later he was entering his house. There was no sound. He wondered whether Yelena had gone out but her shoes were still in their accustomed place so he knew she was in. He wondered around the rooms searching for her, and when he couldn't find her downstairs he went upstairs. She was in the study, working on some assignment for University. She had settled in well at St Petersburg University and was throwing herself into her studies, to his occasional annoyance when he was told to be quiet while she revised, though he was proud of her for having the patience and discipline to do so. He himself had never really revised, instead relying on wit and natural intelligence to get him through, and it hadn't failed him yet. "Paskovaya Moya," he said to her, `my sweet'. "Da," she answered, her eyes still focused on the page she was reading. "I have something to tell you." Her eyes lifted from the page at that, the concern clearly visible. "I will be going away tomorrow and I don't know when I will return." "So soon? Where are you going?" she asked, knowing that he wouldn't be able to tell her but trying nonetheless. "Its classified hun." She looked at him and saw his eyes, the look in his eyes that told her more than words ever could. "There is more, isn't there? Its dangerous," she told him, her voice trembling. "There is more. I have to remove someone I once knew. They have become a problem and I have to terminate them. There are dangers, and I will be going in alone, but if I perform correctly then there should be no problems." He knew that this wasn't enough to stop her worrying but it should be enough to lessen the worry. "Ne Mogu Zhit' Bez Tebya." I can't live without you. "Angel, you won't be without me forever, just the next couple of weeks." He kissed her gently, not wishing to turn this into a sexual encounter as he had things to do. "Pyubpyu Tebya Serdyem Vsey Dushoyu," he whispered to her, I love you with all my heart, with all my soul. He was rewarded with a smile, a gesture, he realised, that would be missing from his life in the coming weeks. That thought wasn't a welcome one, and so he kissed her again to take his mind off of it. It worked up until the moment they broke the embrace, and then it returned to occupy his thoughts further. He left the room and made his way into the bedroom, stopping to listen to the silence in the house. He found it refreshing that there were occasions when all he could hear came from outside the house; the stillness of the air caused him to relax somewhat, though the thoughts of what he would be without whilst on his `mission' didn't allow the state of relaxation to reach its conclusion. Instead he was left in a state where he was both relaxed and tense. He changed into a t-shirt and some trousers, taking the dirty clothes downstairs where he put them in the wash. He grabbed a bottle of vodka and a glass from the kitchen and made his way out into the back garden, closing the door carefully behind him. He walked round to the back of the garage and stopped. He secured the bottle and glass in his clothing then climbed up the wall. Upon reaching the top he pulled himself over easily and moved to the centre of the flat expanse before sitting down. He removed the vodka and the glass, pouring himself some of the clear liquid and downing it, all the while deep in thought. This continued until the early hours of the morning, and by the time he made it into bed he had mentally prepared himself for what was to come. The kiss he gave Yelena as she slept was the last act of Nikolai; when he moved away he was Ruzhyo. Return |
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