The sun was setting over the small village, casting a warm orange glow over the crumbling buildings. Lukas, Vladimir, and Anastasia walked down the main street, their footsteps echoing off the walls. They had finally reached their destination – a small warehouse on the outskirts of the village where a local black market operator, Markov, was supposed to meet them with medical supplies.
As they approached the warehouse, a burly man with a thick beard emerged from the shadows. "Vladimir," he said, his voice gruff. "Good to see you. I've got what you need."
Vladimir nodded, his expression neutral. "Markov. Let's see what you've got."
Markov led them inside, where crates of medical supplies were stacked on wooden pallets. Anastasia's eyes widened as she surveyed the goods, her hands moving over the crates with a practiced touch.
"What's the price?" Vladimir asked, his eyes narrowing.
Markov named a steep price, and Vladimir haggled, his voice calm and confident. After a few minutes of negotiation, they settled on a price, and Markov handed over the supplies.
As they loaded their bags, Lukas kept a watchful eye on Markov, sensing that the man was not to be trusted. Markov, however, seemed affable, even jovial, as he pocketed the payment.
"Be careful on the road," Markov said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "There's been talk of bandits in the area."
Vladimir nodded, his expression serious. "We'll be careful. Thanks for the supplies, Markov."
As they left the warehouse, Lukas felt a sense of relief wash over him. They had secured the supplies, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Markov was watching them, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
The walk back was marked with silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Lukas couldn't shake the feeling that Markov's warning about bandits was more than just a coincidence. As if on cue, a group of rough-looking men emerged from the trees, blocking their path. They were armed with knives, clubs, and machetes, nothing that suggested they were looking for a long-range fight.
Vladimir's eyes narrowed as he sized up the group. There were only five of them, but even so, they still outnumbered the trio. Anastasia's eyes flicked to Lukas, her face pale. Lukas's mind was racing, they couldn't afford to lose the supplies, not with sick people depending on them. He considered negotiating, hoping to appeal to the bandits' humanity.
"Listen, we're not looking for trouble," Lukas said, holding up his hands. "We've got medical supplies here that could help a lot of people. Can we find a way to... share?"
The leader, a burly man with a scar above his eyebrow, sneered. "Share? You think we're here to make friends? Markov said you'd be carrying something valuable. We're taking it all."
Vladimir's eyes flashed with anger, but Lukas shot him a warning glance. They couldn't afford to antagonize the bandits, not yet. "We're not going to give up the supplies without a fight," Lukas said firmly. "But we're willing to part with some of them. Let's talk about this."
The bandit leader snorted. "We're not here to talk. We're here to take."
With that, the bandits charged, their melee weapons glinting in the fading light. Vladimir and Lukas exchanged a look, and without a word, they prepared to defend themselves and the precious supplies. Anastasia stood back-to-back with them, her eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of weakness in their attackers.
The fight was intense, with punches thrown and knives clashing. Lukas and Vladimir fought in perfect sync, their movements almost practiced and deadly. But despite their skills, they were still outnumbered, and the bandits were determined. Lukas's mind was focused on protecting Anastasia and the supplies, but he knew they couldn't keep this up for much longer...
One of the bandits grabbed Anastasia, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist. Vladimir tried to intervene, but another bandit pinned him to the ground. The bandit leader sneered at Lukas, his eyes glinting with triumph. "Surrender the supplies, or they both die." Lukas's grip on the bags tightened, his mind racing with desperation. The situation seemed hopeless. But just as he was about to drop the supplies, Anastasia suddenly elbowed her captor in the stomach, breaking free from his grip. Lukas instinctively chased after her, creating a distraction that allowed Vladimir to break free.
Vladimir quickly knocked out the bandit holding him and tackled another, leaving the remaining bandits – who were already injured – to flee in panic. Lukas, meanwhile, caught up to the bandit leader, who had grabbed Anastasia again. With a fierce cry, Lukas tackled the leader, his fists flying as he pummeled the man's face into a bloody pulp. The sound of crunching bone and tearing skin filled the air as Lukas's fists rained down on the bandit leader's face, rendering it almost unrecognizable.
His mind flashed back to a similar fight with a Soviet soldier, both of them grappling for dominance, both of them trying to kill each other. He remembered the soldier's eyes, wide with fear and pain, as Lukas's fingers dug deep into his neck, crushing his windpipe. The soldier's face had turned blue, his body convulsing in agony, before finally going limp. The memory still haunted him, the sound of the soldier's labored breathing echoing in his mind.
As he punched the bandit leader repeatedly, the man's face disintegrated into a mess of blood and broken bones. Vladimir finally managed to intervene, grabbing Lukas's arms and pulling him off the battered man. Lukas's face was covered in blood, his eyes wild with a mix of adrenaline and fury. The bandit leader's body lay limp and still, his face a grotesque mask of violence.
Anastasia stood frozen, her eyes wide with horror. She couldn't believe what she had just witnessed. As Lukas stood up, his chest heaving, Anastasia's gaze locked onto his, and for a moment, they just stared at each other. Then, her eyes welled up with tears, and she looked away, her expression signaling that her perception of Lukas had changed forever.
The remaining bandits vanished into the trees, leaving the trio standing amidst the aftermath of the fight. The silence between them was oppressive, heavy with unspoken emotions. Lukas's face was a mess, but it was his eyes that seemed to hold the most damage – a glimpse into a darker part of himself that Anastasia wasn't sure she wanted to confront.