Another Fan-Fic, My best one yet... Options

[Svea Rike]

So over the past few months I've been doing some fiction here and there, and most of it have turned out to be moderately good. But now I wanted to write something that was really good, and in my opinion, it turned out pretty nicely. Enjoy.

LOCATION: classified.
DATE: unknown.

The room was dark. He was sitting in the middle of the room, in a chair, tied on the wrists and legs. He didn't know how long he was going to be there, but he knew it was going to be short unless he told them something right now. But he couldn't. He tried to remember everything, but he couldn't. The cold concrete floor around him was lit up by the ceiling light that shined brighter than a thousand suns. He didn't know where he was, but he was sure it was one of the infamous American prison camps that were concealed from the people by the black curtain that is the Pentagon. A small orange light lit up from the darkness, and sparks were slowly falling down to the floor. An almost non-distinguishable silhouette puffed some smoke and said in a neutral female voice:

"We are sure you know why you are here"

"No"

A hard slap hit him across the cheek. His nose was bleeding, and the scar on his right hand was freshly cut. His left foot couldn't stop shaking, but his right foot wouldn't move whatever he did. His brown goatee was sore and untrimmed. He tried hard to remember, so hard that he almost got a headache.

"Lieutenant Valerij Alkaev" a low-toned male voice said. "Commander of the 34th expeditionary unit, Central-South African theatre, Russian Federation. Be that true?"

"Yes"

"Then you do know why you are here?" the female voice said again.

"No"

A heavy hand pulled his head backwards in his hair and said into his ears: "Five-hundred-and-twelve! Remember that number"

As soon as he let go Alkaev bent forward. He tried to remember, he tried to concentrate but it was too hard. He saw flashes of soldiers, explosions and his parents. That was all he could see. He didn't know why he couldn't remember. Maybe it was something that had to do with a mission he was in? Alkaev concentrated hard. His eyelids closed hard, and he bit his teeth together. But he couldn't remember. Suddenly, a hard slap hit him across the cheek again. That slap got him to focus, remember and see.

The images he saw were a bit blurry, but he could see a savannah. A bright savannah in Africa. Two Zebras were running in the distance, doing their thing. The bright blistering sun shined into the viewports of the Mishka. Alkaev remembered he looked up through the periscope. He looked around and he could see three Ural trucks following the Mishka. Right now he couldn't remember what they were doing so far from the Russian border in Africa. When he looked above the trucks, he could see black smoke rising from the horizon. He knew that was something he had done, but he didn't know what he had done. He couldn't remember anything more as the memory faded to white and Alkaev stared blankly at the concrete floor again.

"Have you remembered now?" a black male voice said. "We would be very interested to hear"

"Fuck you"

A heavy slap hit him across the face again. This one was so hard one of his teeth almost fell out. Alkaev spat on the floor, some blood, some saliva. As Alkaev looked up again he could not only see four silhouettes, but five. The fifth one was talking discriminately to another silhouette, and then walked out again. Alkaev bit together and tried to remember more. The orange prison jumpsuit he wore had the numbers "0917" written on the back, and just below that: "Russian".

"Maybe a bit of stimulation could make you remember?" a neutral male voice said. "Bring in the tray"

Alkaev saw a tray being pushed into the room. The tray was covered with a green sheet, and as soon as it was pulled away he saw something horrifying. That got him to remember more.

It was still a bit blurry but he could see soldiers jumping out of trucks. He saw himself, guiding them into a village of some sort. Then, he ordered the soldiers to open fire. They killed villagers, burned down huts and looted valuables. He couldn't believe he did this? No. He didn't do it. Someone set him up. He could remember that. But he didn't know who set him up. Then, he saw that he was preparing to get back into the Mishka, when the butt of a rifle hit him hard on the back of his head. He plummeted to the ground, and could see the trucks driving away over the sound of fire and screaming villagers slowly dying from the flames. He then couldn't remember anything more.

"512 villagers dead, Alkaev" the neutral male voice said again. "Five-hundred-and-twelve"

"I didn't do anything"

This time they stomped on his shaking left foot. It stopped shaking, and Alkaev remembered more. This time the images he saw were clear as day, and he was in fact not in a Mishka, but an old and rugged BTR. The trucks behind him weren't modern Russian Ural trucks, but Soviet-era trucks. He now could see it clear, he wasn't guiding the troops into the village; another man was. He was bound and gagged, held up by another soldier. The images became cleared, and he saw not Russians, but Arabs; GLA terrorists. He could remember clearly now, the GLA kidnapped him, slaughtered a village and left him there to make it look like he did it. He knew now.

"So, will you tell us?"

"Yes... it wasn't me. I was kidnapped by the GLA!"

The silhouettes were silent for about a minute and a half until the fifth silhouette stepped in again. They whispered something to each other until the fifth one said: "Then I am afraid we have no further use for you if you had nothing to do with it".

"So you will release me?"

"No. But, you will be free in a short notice"

Alkaev could hear a gun click, and soon he could feel the metal touch his head. The chair wasn't attached to the floor... Alkaev jumped back in the chair, knocking out the captor that was behind him. He stood up, spun around and quickly disabled the five silhouettes by hitting them with the chair. He inched his way across the concrete wall and hit a light switch. The room lit up and he could see old bloodstains all over the walls and floor, with a mirror next to the metal door leading out. The door had a fingerprint scanner. In the corner was an old, rusted up pipe of some sort. Alkaev used the chair to bust the pipe open, and he cut his right hand loose by using the sharp iron. Then he freed his left hand, and then his legs. Alkaev picked up the gun. In the top corner was a security camera; he shot it. Alkaev lifted up an unconscious interrogator and scanned his thumb on the fingerprint scanner to open the door.

The door led into another room that looked into the interrogation room through a one-way mirror. Inside were two Americans that looked at him worryingly. Alkaev pointed the gun at them, and they put their hands up.

"Which way leads out?"

"That way"

The man pointed at a door leading out into a corridor. As soon as he left the room, an alarm sounds.

"Prisoner escaping, repeat, prisoner escaping" the speakers said.

Alkaev ran through the corridors. He took a right, then a left, and then another right. He ran past many prisoners of different ideological backgrounds, all begging him to open the cell doors and letting them out. But he had no time; he needed to get out of there. Alkaev got to a larger corridor. At both ends the doors burst open with guards storming towards him. In front of him was a window. He took a chance and jumped through the window. It felt like he fell from the top of a twenty-story building, but he landed safely on a roof one story down. Alkaev rolled down and barely halted before he rolled over the edge and fell down what looked like a hundred feet. He got up and ran inside a door, almost getting shot at by the guards.

It seemed like this whole place was a labyrinth, as he only got to another corridor. Through the windows he could see the skyline of Johannesburg, South Africa. At the end of the corridor, a guard stepped out.

"Hey, you!"

Alkaev shot him in the leg. He didn't want to kill anyone, so he did the next-best thing. He followed the corridor which led to a control room overlooking a large cellblock. The room was empty; the guards were probably looking for him. On the control panel were many buttons. A big red button was marked: "FIRE EMERGENCY". Alkaev pressed it, presuming it would open all the jail cells at the same time. He was wrong because it only activated the sprinkler system. Some guards at the bottom of the cellblock saw him and fired on the control room. Alkaev ducked, and his hand slammed onto the control panel, activating a button. Then, all the cell doors opened. The prisoners were surprised, but it didn't take them long to realize they could be free. Soon, the entire prison was in an uprising. Alkaev got up and joined them.

The prisoners fought the outnumbered guards, and soon the entire army of captives had made their way to the front door. Alkaev was in the middle of the horde as they burst the doors open. The guards outside did their best to fight them, but they couldn't. Alkaev didn't shoot anyone; he just tagged along to see if he could escape. It seemed he would make it to the main gate of the compound, but then, a Comanche helicopter soared in from above. Alkaev froze, but the rest of the prisoners didn't and tried to open the chain-link gate. Alkaev saw the helicopter taking position...

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"This is SNN. My name is Gene Wallace and I'm bringing you up to speed on today's most important events. '

Africa. A prisoner uprising outside of Johannesburg, South Africa, ended with the deaths of over a hundred prisoners. The uprising was believed to be led by a Russian prisoner named Valerij Alkaev, who months earlier had murdered more than 500 villagers near the border of Namibia and Botswana. Alkaev was found dead in the middle of the prisoners. A funeral of all the prisoners is to be held in a memorial graveyard outside of Johannesburg. In South Sudan, a Russian camp of the famed Tula Divison was attacked by remnants of the GLA, and......"



I really hope this one turned out good. Please, criticise anything.

[H3adSh00t]

That should be a movie, really.
Awesome story, loved to read, make more

[MARS]

That was a really good fic. Set prior to the 'Orlov in Africa' series from a while back, I presume. The only thing I'd note is that there's supposed to be a Gitmo-style US facility in Gabon AKA the US client state that is closest to GLA-controlled Central Africa, but that's something you cannot possibly know yet and second, it's still fair to assume that the US have smaller, more discreet facilities in other African states as well. Overall, good work.

[__CrUsHeR]

Very good, I felt the drama of Alkaev.