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Nathan Miller [Delta Operative]

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// Nathan Miller - Delta Operative ::

// Chernogorsk - Day 112, 'Reconnaissance Op' ::

A trio of men stood at the entrance to an apartment building, dressed in dirt-ridden clothing that resembled more rags than shirts or jeans. Between them, they were a reasonably lethal force; one had a 9mm pistol, another an old Winchester and the third an AK-47. From looking at the men, it was safe to assume they were looters attempting to locate more valuable items, whether for personal use or trade.

"Ugh, they smell worse than shit," One man said, covering his mouth and nose with the stained sleeve of his leather jacket. He stepped around the corpses littering the area, repulsed. "Sooner we get out of here, the better."

Bodies. Civilians, soldiers, and everything in between. All of them were dead, shot or stabbed through the heads. Some piled up, others simply left to rot on the path alone.

"Da, place is no good," Another added, following in his companions wake, nose wrinkled as he scanned the bodies. He stepped into the apartment complex, motioning for the last man to keep guard. "In, out, and gone. Bad place here, not want to run into Bratva or Legions."

As the pair explored the building, rummaging through cupboards and searching anything not bolted shut, the third looter stood silently at the door, eyes alert. He was the one with the Russian automatic rifle, ready to shoot at a moments notice. Still, there was an air of care about the guard, as he crouched to make himself less visible to the distant zombies shambling aimlessly. After all, there was no point in wasting ammunition, and it was dangerous to shoot where the undead could hear and approach.

"Come on, come on," The guard muttered, glancing over his shoulder, listening to the footsteps in the apartment above. "Someone's going to find the UAZ... we need to move..."

Minutes later, the group of looters had finished their sweep. They regrouped at the building entrance, about to move on, when movement caught their eye at the hospital. Aiming their weapons, the men were surprised at the sight of a young woman, who appeared to be unarmed...

"Don't move?!" Shouted the Russian, pointing his pistol at the girl. "We take backpack now, and might be let you live... but not before fun, da?"

The other two looters chuckled, glancing to one another with sly eyes. They knew how rare females were in these parts, especially pretty young things with blond hair and green eyes. She was covered in dirt, but she looked healthy enough. And it had been a long time since any of the looters had enjoyed the gentle touch of a good woman...

"You don't need to do this," The girl said, backing up until she was against the nearby wall of the opposing building. She wasn't helpless, but three against one weren't good odds. Besides, she was a medic, and had only wanted to explore the hospital near the apartments for possible supplies.

"I can offer you medical atte--"

"Shut mouth!" The Russian growled, stomping toward the girl with his pistol aimed. "Down on knees, we don't have much time."

Yet, as the trio began to move toward the open gardens between the apartments, a low voice filled the deathly silence...

"Don't move."

The looters stopped stock-still, eyes wide, looking in every direction. They didn't move initially, paused in place like living statues, weapons held out before them, unsure of where the voice had come from.

With a glance over his shoulder, the Russian nodded to the two men behind him. They knew what to do, they would count to three and then split off to attack whoever was near them.




The looter with the AK-47 fell to the ground, blood exploding from one side of his head as the suppressed round took him through the temple. His body clattered to the floor, sprawled out with the corpses around.

"Oh, shit, they got Greg--?!" The leather clad looter began to shout, but his warning was cut short as a form reached up to grasp him around the throat with a forearm. "Ack!"

"I said don't move," The stranger whispered, holding the looter before him in a strangle, while aiming his silenced 9mm at the Russian. He was dressed in military clothing, his face smeared with green and black face paint. "Seems sensible when you can't see the threat. Put your weapon down, or die."

"Fuck you, American!" The Russian bellowed, turning as he raised his pistol, ready to open fire. Before he could finish the turn, the stranger in military clothing placed a well-aimed shot directly through the looter's head, dropping him mid-turn.

Seeing his companions dead, the last looter spoke quickly.

"I didn't want to do this," He stammered, one hand grasping at the forearm at his neck, his other holding the Winchester out non-threateningly. "I just did what I was told, Yuri would kill me if I didn't do what he sai--"

The strangling forearm was pulled back, a small black-bladed knife following in its wake. The looter's throat opened, blood pouring down over his chest as he gagged, surprised, clutching at the mortal wound.

He was dead before comprehension was realized.

"Don't care." The soldier muttered, giving the looter a push, letting the body hit the ground in front of him. He turned to the medic, pistol held at the ready, cautious. "You're with the Free Medics?"

"Y-yes, I was making a supply run to the hospital."

"I know, I saw the whole thing." The soldier said, glancing around, eyes narrowed as he glimpsed zombies slowly moving toward the area. He began moving toward the new bodies, checking pockets and backpacks for anything helpful. "I suggest you do what you came to do, and quickly. Zombies approaching."

"Okay... but where did you come from?" The girl asked, looking at the looters, watching the soldier carefully. He seemed friendly enough, when one wasn't hostile. "You... just appeared?"

"Most aren't interested in looking through piles of dead corpses," The other replied, finishing his own task, before he stood and began crossing the yard. "Throw a zombie over you, and you're practically invisible. I was planning on looking through the apartments myself, when I heard a vehicle, so I went to ground."

"Oh, I see." The medic said, as she stepped through the broken windows of the hospital. "Let me check for supplies quickly."

Minutes later, the pair began moving northward, out of the town proper. The zombies had stumbled toward them, but it wasn't anything the suppressed weapon couldn't handle. Still, once out in the fields the soldier pulled the assault rifle from over his shoulder, putting the pistol back in its holster at his leg.

"You going to be okay from here?" He asked, walking at a quick pace in a lowered crouch. He wanted to avoid attracting more attention.

"Yes. I'm going to head to Prud, and drop off what I found." The medic said, following in a similar manner. She had taken the AK-47 from the Russian looter, and was now able to better defend herself. "Thank you for the assistance."

"Anytime." The soldier said, stopping beside a lone tree. "Looks like we're clear, but keep an eye on the hill to the east... bandits like to set up sniping cover that way."

"Alright. And who are you, anyway?"

"Miller. With Delta." The soldier said simply, scanning the area through the sights of his weapon. "Keep your head down, miss, and watch out for looters."

Without another word, Miller began walking away, headed toward the western forest. Before he got several meters from the medic, he heard the distinct click of the AK-47 safety being disengaged, and then the woman's voice.

"Don't move, soldier," She said, smirking. "I'll be taking your weapons and supplies... so keep facing the way you're facing, and drop your gun."

"So... not a medic, huh?" Miller grunted, lowering his rifle. He glanced over his shoulder, eyebrow raised. "Just another bandit who got caught by other bandits in the open?"

"Yep, but luckily you came to save the day, right?" The girl laughed, walking toward the crouched soldier. She kept her gun aimed at his back, noticing the backpack. She couldn't wait to see what supplies she could get. "Bad luck, Miller. Maybe next time you shouldn't take people at their word? It's a harsh place, after all, and a girl has to look out for herself."

"Seems so... and sorry to hear that. Bad luck."

The girl frowned, confused. A sudden distant thump was heard from the eastern hill, before a sniper round caught her in the back of the head, doubling the girl over and sending her sprawling, dead. The AK-47 dropped from her hands, the blood spattering the grass.

"Deltas don't work alone."

Miller picked up his rifle, standing. He looked toward the sniper cover set up on the distant hill, nodding. Open comms had allowed Miller's fellow operative to hear everything, and unfortunately the girl had gotten greedy.

Looking down at the medic's body, Miller sighed.

"This is Miller. I'm moving back into Cherno... going to check the industrial building, see if I can't find some parts for that UAZ to the west."

<<"Roger that, Miller. Scanning for targets.">>

Holding his rifle before him, making sure no zombies were approaching, Miller began walking quickly back toward the town. Eyes narrowed, scanning the streets for zombies, the Delta Operative was ready for the next threat...

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