Deathless Ideal- Chapter 1: Displacement (USSR RP)

[Kaboose the Moose]

"Fecking train...fecking Ivans..got me on this tin box away from my patients for over fecking fifty hours!. Sure when a solider gets shot they expect me to be there on time, but when the poor are sick...they send me to camp whoop-whoop" Thomas growled to himself as he glanced at his watch again.

He tried on several occasions to hail a passing Russian trying to clarify their estimated time of arrival but all he got was shrugs.

"Siberia trains go at own speed" a voice behind him replied suddenly. "Siberian train drivers also in no hurry. Much time spent asleep or with vodka" Thomas turned to find a small group of people sitting behind him, a man, a woman and three children. The man looked up and smiled. "My name is Pechenkov, Vladamir Pechenkov. My family and I.." he paused to gesture towards the woman and three children "..we.. we are, how do you say..displaced from nearby. Our new home is Svobodny"

"I see..well I guess that's where I am heading off to as well" Thomas smiled at the family. "I was beginning to think that no one on this train would speak English, my name is Thomas and I..." his words were cut off by a sudden scream that erupted from the rear carriage

"What in god's name is happening back there?" Thomas asked suddenly craning his neck to see through the half ajar door leading to the rear compartment. The passengers in the carriage looked equally confused and concerned as the screams mixed with yelling continued to echo through the cabin. Then, just as suddenly the ruckus stopped and a burly, rather sweaty Russian appeared through the doorway. His attire represented him as a soviet guard of some sort, he paid no heed to the passengers glances and continued on his path.

An eerie silence settled over the train afterwards.

"What was that all about?" Thomas whispered turning to the family seated behind him. Vladamir did not respond, his expression turned to pain and his face was drawn of colour. It was apparent that the sight of the guard had scared him and his family. He looked at Thomas straight in the eye with a pained expression and shook his head. There was nothing more that Vladamir was going to say.

"I've got to find out what that was about, it sounded like a man was injured. He could need medical attention" Thomas said out aloud facing Vladimir. He casually got up from his seat and proceeded to the rear of the carriage. The large metal door that separated both compartments soon loomed before him but before he could place a hand on the door handle a voice from behind made him freeze in his tracks.

A Russian guard was standing behind him, dressed in a standard urban camouflage uniform and a long green trench coat, with cigarette in his mouth and a Kalashnikov gently slung over his shoulder. He scanned Thomas up and down before hurling a sting of Russian words while gesturing wildly towards Thomas's empty seat.

"No no!" Thomas pointed at the door gesturing beyond. "I heard screaming...someone might be hurt..I am a doctor" Thomas held up his medical papers for the guard to see. The guard however did not budge. He began gesturing towards Thomas's seat again.

"I don't think you understand..." Thomas began again but he was cut short as the guard forcibly grabbed him by the arm and dragged him back to the seat. He gestured towards Thomas and back towards the rear door, he then pulled out a small knife from his boot and slowly moved it sideways along his throat. The message was clear, Thomas managed a nervous smile.

"Right!. I'll stay right here and won't go back there again..if there is an emergency though..." Thomas clammed up as the guard turned to stare him in the face.

"Nevermind!"

 

[Combined]

Gediminas felt his bed jerk as it was suddenly impacted in the lower part. He stayed motionless for a while, then got up and off his bed and back onto the ground. Seeing the businessman lying there, he decided to do the charitable thing and put him into the bed, with just a bit of trouble. He settled and tucked the man in and whispered a prayer for him to be safe on this journey.

Now that he was disturbed, he decided to wander and left their passenger compartment for the other one.The shabby Lithuanian seemed barely adequate to travel with these people and his appearance could probably draw some looks. The sunken eyes, the gaunt face... not a lot of features commonly associated with those of the upper class.

As he entered the compartment, he asked, slowly speaking every Russian word. "Is everything all right in here? I thought I heard screams..." He looked around, noting the various passengers.

 

[The Infamous Scamola]

Spoiler

Not to sound like a know-it-all jackass, but @ Skarin: The ending suffix "ova" in Russian surnames indicates that the person is female. So if the person is female, the surname will be Pechenkova, if it is male, it will be Pechenkov

As Carmine's eye lids slowly shut, the vast white Russian wilderness slowly gave way to the hot and building-crowded sight of downtown Palermo.

A younger version of Carmine was sitting, waiting in the driver's seat of an old rickety Fiat car, just across the road from the Town Hall. His hair was long, and messy, aviator sunglasses covering half his face, the other half covered by a bad teenage moustache. He was sweaty, because he was wearing a wolly jumper during the hot Sicilian jumper, but also because of what was happening at that moment. If he had been caught, it was down to the gallows with him, and all his accomplices.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, three figures stepped into the car, two in the backseat, and the other in the seat beside him.

"Drive." she said, her voice decisive, with just a hint of worry in it.

Carmine looked at her. Her young pale body was tall, and slender, but curvy in all the right places, like that of a Greek godess, while her bright red hair cascaded onto her shoulders, curly, like a firey waterfall.
More than anything though, it was the eyes that would catch anyone's attention. They were of a unique colour, a blueish green, similar to that of the Ionian sea. And like the Ionian sea, Carmine loved them, and would've gladly lost himself in them.

"Those eyes." he thougth.

"Carmine. Carmine! Come on! We got to get out of here!"

She had raised her voice, shaking Carmine out of his waking dream.

"Eh... wha? Oh! Right! Gotta get out of here!" shouted Carmine, as he clumsily stepped on the gas pedal, nearly crashing into a nearby car by doing so.
About twenty seconds later, a loud boom resonated throughout the city centre. The ground shook, and it nearly lifted the small car from off the ground.
Carmine looked in his rear-view mirror. The front facade of the Town Hall had been complately ripped apart by explosives. At first, there was silence. A deafening silence, probably even louder and more terrifying than the explosion. As the seconds passed though, the cries and shouts of the injured and onlookers started to fill the air.

"Fuck yeah!" shouted one of the guys in the back of the car.

"Those commie bastards got what they deserved." said the other.

Carmine didn't know how to feel. Could the deaths of innocents be justified in the fight for freedom?
He didn't know. He just pressed the gas pedal as hard as he could, trying to get as far as possible from the scene of the bombing.

He looked into the girl's eyes, again. The interior of the car vanished, turning onto itself and morphing into the middle of the city plaza. Distance started to form between the two. The sound of the car engine revving was slowly flushed out by the sound of people shouting and cursing. Carmine found himself in the middle of an angry mob.
He looked for the girl. She wasn't there, beside him. She was a couple of yards in front of him, a line of armed guards between them.

Carmine understood. It was a public execution.

She stood there, proud, with no sign of fear nor regret in her face, as a soldier tightened the noose around her neck. Carmine was about to feel sick, he felt the life slowly being sucked out of his body, the vital air leaving his lungs, and the sound completely leaving his ears, the colour leaving his eyes.
He looked up, one last time. She stared directly at him. Even in the time of death, her eyes were captivating. Carmine couldn't hear her, but he could see her lips moving, about to pronounce his name, before being cut short by the hangman.

Carmine knelt down to the floor. He couldn't hear anything, but all the same he started shouting at the top of his lungs, and clawing his way towards the gallows. As he did so, the world seemed to collapse upon itself. The crowd dissapeared, and he couldn't feel anything under his feet anymore. He started falling, for what seemed like an eternity, before hitting the ground without a sound.

Carmine rose up from his seat.

"Giovanna!" he shouted.

He was sweating, profusely. He realized he wasn't in Sicily anymore, and hadn't been for the last five years or so. It was night-time, and in the train, everyone was sleeping, including his escorting officer.
Carmine curled back into his seat, a small, lonely tear wetting his left cheek.

"Giovanna." he whispered.

 

[CosmicCommander]

?So, you are telling me, that Fat Dog, himself, actually organized this?? the man was in a stolen suit of Communist soldier gear, but instead of the standard hammer and sickle lining the hat and the left shoulder, they had been replaced by a blue and yellow symbol of an eye.

?Yes, don?t ask why, all we know is that it?s a displacement train heading to some town to the east, with a labour camp next door,? Replied his feminine partner ?Some of our guys fucked up in Leningrad, and now we have to get them to us before they say anything.? She was wearing goggles that took up half of her face, with a very similar uniform to her partner, but without any symbol on it. The night was quiet, snowless, and lifeless. The two ICA soldiers were 50 metres away from what was two hours ago a train track, now a patch of debris of destroyed iron and concrete. The two soldiers were sitting at their campfire, the woman drinking a flask of coffee.
?So what?s the plan?? asked the male soldier.

?Well, we?ve done the main part, the train track is gone, and the train should de-rail when it reaches us, we clear out any guards left on the train, and bring our men back to Co...? Said the woman, but she was interrupted by her partner.

?What about civilians??
?Huh??
?Well, you said it was a town where they were supposed to go, so I can only guess that our men are a minority on the train.?
?What should we do then??
?Take them back to the Compound? It?s sure better than letting them die in the tundra?
?I guess, but would Fat Dog like it??
?What does the I in the ICA stand for??
?Okay, Okay, please don?t get ranting again! I hate it when you do that!?
?Well, Veronica what are we doing?? he Said 'Veronica', as one would say cockroach.
?We?ll take them with us??
?Thank you!? he pulled out a cigarette, puffed, looked at her angry face he apologised, ?Sorry, its just that I?m kinda annoyed at the fact that they sent just us two, I mean, they should have sent at least 5 of us! How will we stand a chance??
?I was thinking that,? she replied, ?But we are rather stretched on resources, I mean,? she pointed at the two spare IEDs near the tent, ?We made them out of Kerosene and lard, now that?s desperate! We?ll be able to tackle them, those conscripts get as much training as: ?Point gun and pull trigger?, we?re much more effective, and besides, stealth and willpower is on our side.?

?I guess so, but?? The end of his sentence was cut off by the distant roar of the train.
?They are coming!? Veronica shouted.
?Put out the fire, hide, and load your AK!? he replied quickly.
The duo of rebels poured a bucket of half-frozen water over the camp-fire, crouched down behind a nearby snow-covered hill, loaded their AK-47s and covered their ears.
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lukas?s nose had finally stopped bleeding, but bruises across his body were emerging rapidly. He began to swear at himself, as he realised what a fool he had been, not just for failing in Leningrad, but for not escaping when he could of. They?re going to torture me until all is left o me is a sack of black and blue flesh, unless I give up all I know? He loved the ICA like his child, but the Soviets were very potent at extracting information; although he wasn?t in the know of everything of the ICA, he knew a lot about the Organization?s Eurasian supply routes, and that was enough.

He looked at his fellow ICA agents, in their cells, sullen faced, groaning, sleeping, they were paying the price of trying to change the world, and they were definitely feeling it. He looked out of the tiny window in his cell, the Siberian night seemed entrancing, and beautiful, so delicate, and free, he would do anything to be free of this cell, to be outside again, in that wilderness, even if he froze to death in these baggy tracksuit bottoms and whit shirt.

His wish was granted.

A huge screeching noise filled Lukas?s ears, and he felt the train come to a painful halt, from 70 miles per hour, to Zero, he felt his very organs go backwards. The train, or at least his carriage, fell upon its side, and Lukas toppled over and fell to what looked like the ground, except it wasn?t the floor, it was the wall of his cell, and he was lying on top of his cell window, looking at the snow beneath it.

What the hell is going on?? was the question that battered Lukas?s mind, but he couldn?t investigate; his cell door was directly above him. So he shouted, hoping someone would help him,
?Hello? Can someone help me out of here?!!?

 

[LockHeart]

Jack was pulled out of his reverie to the sound of screeching metal and surprised cries. The carriage shook and the brakes squealed as Jack was hurled onto the table in front of him, cracking his eyebrow on the scuffed surface.

Before he could right himself, the carriage tilted onto its side and slammed down into the snowy ground. Jack found himself tangled up with the shrewish man on the other side of the aisle, the couple opposite knocked unconscious. The man looked up groggily, locking eyes with Jack, who gave him an evil grin as he raised a jagged shard of glass in his gloved hand, stabbing down as the man opened his mouth to shout.

Searching through the man's coat turned up a few useful items, not least a 9mm Makarov pistol and a mobile phone. Pocketing these, along with the agent's wallet, Jack righted himself, balancing on the side of the chair.

"Hello? Can someone help me out of here?!!"

Jack turned towards the prisoner carriage and made his way to the compartment door. Forcing it open, he moved to the first cell - the dark-haired man inside looked as if he'd suffered multiple beatings.

"I think I might be able to help you out. Are the keys to the cells stored anywhere in this carriage?"

 

[CosmicCommander]

Lukas looked at the at this liberator, although he couldn?t see well in the dark, Lukas could see he definitely was not a guard, so he decided in his own interest to say:

?The key?s are in the cell guard?s hands, it?s not worth risking your neck for, if you have a gun shoot the lock on the cell door, the iron they use for them is worthless... but be careful not to shoot me!? It was going to be difficult to make sure Lukas was not hit, considering the door was above Lukas?s head.

 

[LockHeart]

"Alright, cover your eyes and get out of the way."

Jack waited as the man moved away before taking aim with the Makarov and blasting the lock out. Moving forward, he dragged the cell door open before reaching down and offering his hand to the man.

"Come on, we don't have much time until your friend comes a-looking!"

 

[CosmicCommander]

"Thanks, I owe you one!" cried Lukas as he grabbed the outstretched hand, and heaved himself upwards, out of the cell. He shambled out, took a deep breath, and said to the man, "We need to help the other prisoners out, before the guards decide to come up here!"

 

[LockHeart]

"Agreed. I'll set to getting the rest of the locks. In the confusion I managed to off an agent who was trailing me so we should have a bit of breathing space."

From the outside of the train, Jack could hear rifles being fired.

"Looks like someone's decided to distract the rest of our friends anyways."

He held out his hand.

"I'm Jack. Jack Philby, from London."

 

[CosmicCommander]

"Lukas, Lukas Daryvich," he shook Jack's hand thoroughly, ?London, eh? I?ve never been there myself, but some of my friends have worked there?? He smirked at the end of this sentence, ?We?d better be quick, and help whoever?s is attacking these Soviets won't be able to stand for long??
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The two ICA soldiers had watched as the train de-railed, and the ear-ravaging screech that followed made them squint. They peeked around the hill, and saw ten soldiers stumbling off of the train, they immediately proceeded to quickly shoot the soldiers, and four of them fell to the ground, fortunately not killed, but on the ground, groaning. The other six began to open fire, suppressing the two agents, as they waited for a break in the shooting to lean out and return fire.

 

[LockHeart]

"All right, help me get the others out. You know these guys?"

As he spoke, Jack moved along the carriage, shooting out the locks on the cells and levering the doors open.

 

[CosmicCommander]

"Know 'em? We're here for the same thing! I'm glad your here, if we were sent to Svobodny we would be tortured to the point the ICA..." He abrubtly ended there, realising that this 'Jack' could be a Soviet for all he knew, he decided to look away from him.

 

[curlycrouton]

Richau was jolted awake by a sudden jerk of the carriage, followed by what felt like being caught in a huge washing machine. He was thrown to the rear wall of his cabin, what was now the bottom, and lay still for a moment, frozen in utter shock. He grasped at words, trying to utter a request for help, but he found himself unable to speak. His ears were ringing.

Richau staggered to his feet, slowly and exceptionally painfully. Bent double, he stretched a pitiful, grasping hand through the door above him. He grasped at the air, like a dying man clinging to the last remains of life. At last, he managed to force a few words.

"Help....." he groaned, before collapsing into a coughing fit on the floor.

"Anybody....." The room grew darker.

 

[LockHeart]

Jack saw Lukas clam up and chuckled.

"Believe me, if I was a Soviet agent looking to get a confession, I'd get it in a prison camp. As it is, I was working with an ICA cell in London, that's what got me moved out to this shithole."

He stopped and stooped down to help a man up out of his cell.

"Hopefully we'll be able to find a way off this wreck soon, I wouldn't like to be here when reinforcements show up."

 

[The Infamous Scamola]

The train came to a schreeching halt, and for a few seconds, everything and evryone was floating in the air, as the train slowly collapsed onto it's side.

Carmine got up, a couple of minutes later. He had a wide gash on his forehead.

"Fuck." he said, as he saw the blood on his hands.

He felt a heavy weight pulling on his left arm. He tugged, and then he saw: His escorting officer was laying on the floor with a huge pool of blood coming from his head. Carmine started at him.

"Oh well, better you than me." he thought, before searching his body for usefull items.

He exited the de-railed train, looking for the cause of the accident. He had stolen the officers trousers, boots, belt and fur coat, and was holding his ordinance pistol in his hand, while he investigated.

 

[Sosakitty]

Wilhelm scrabbled for the mouse to his laptop which, at this point, had gotten quite far away from him. It was so strange that this one little thing could make working with the miniature computer so much easier, and it was equally strange how the loss of this one little thing could make life in general so much more difficult. He found himself crouched in front of his seat when the noises of the undercarriage abruptly stopped and he was slammed face-first into a wall. "Hvad?" was all he had time to say before an ominous creaking noise began. Wilhelm's inner monologue began to work furiously. The train is tipping over. It must be partially lifted off of the rails by now. Though his thoughts were few in number, this was still a decent number of coherent think-bubbles when you consider that those two sentences were formulated in less than a second. Wilhelm was tossed mercilessly against hard metal. A rectangular iron plate of three inches in height separated upper and lower panes of glass going all the way across the windows of the carriage. The back of his spine connected perfectly with this plate. "Gud!" he shouted in pain. The wild spinning-offs of his mind failed. The hurt obliterated any attempts at forming any recognizable chains of thought. He tried to control his limbs, but his spine would flare with some kind of ungodly ache every time he tried to move. He finally gave in to unconsciousness. The gears of his brain ceased to rotate.

 

[CosmicCommander]

Lukas looked at Jack, feeling bad for accusing him of being one of the Soviets:
"Sorry, I'm just tense; we can talk after we get the hell out of here." Lukas continued to help his friends out of their cells.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

?Reloading!? Veronica shouter over the countless bullets being shot at the hill
?They?ve stopped shooting, return fire!? the duo leaned out of cover and hit 2 Soviet soldiers in the head, and 1 in the stomach.
?Seven down, three to go!? Veronica laughed.

 

[Combined]

The abrupt stopped knocked the old man off his feet, sending him face first onto the floor and his glasses spinning and tumbling off into the depth of the carriage. He let out a loud grunt as the carriage turned over onto it's side and he fell against a table. He lied there for a while before shakily getting up. His leg seemed to be bleeding rather badly.

He scrounged around for his glasses and found them, surprisingly, intact. He put them back on and looked around at the mess. Gediminas slowly moved towards the door and opened it again, letting the cool breeze in. He climbed out and stood there for a moment then collapsed.

He lied in the snow for a short while, before mustering all of his strength and crawling towards the other carriage leaving a red trail behind. All became dark as he finally was overcome by exhaustion and fell into the snow, lying motionless.

 

[CosmicCommander]

Lukas said quietly to Jack, ?Can you help the last couple of guys out? I?ve got to find out what the hell is going on.? He did not even wait for an answer as he ran out of the carriage, and outside via a broken window, he did not stop to help the countless groaning, bleeding, and crying individuals up, he simply ran, and ran, outside of the train, towards the sound of gunfire. He turned round the corner of part of the wreckage? And ran face-first into a well-tanned, green eyed Soviet officer.

 

[The Infamous Scamola]

The two men collided with each other, falling into the snow in the process. The gun Carmine was holding fell a couple of yards away.

The snow felt cold, and refreshing. Carmine almost forgot what was going on, before as he clumsily got to his feet, he noticed the other man, in front of him, also lieing in the snow.
Panicking, Carmine rushed towards the gun, grabbed it, pointed it towards the man and shouted in a perfect Russian:

"Hands up! Put your hands were I can see them!"