Александр Конторович - Predator - Escape from Tarkov

But I live here, and I’m friendly with the bandits. Funny how life works out sometimes. Here’s a guy who walks the streets with guns slung all around him, unshaven and mean-looking. He drinks brandy with a bandit boss and does business with drug lords. Is he one of the bad guys? Of course, he is. He shoots people, too. But inside, he’s just a scared little bunny. True, he’s grown himself a thick, bulletproof hide and some sharp teeth and claws. But has that really made him a different person? Good question, and one that I don’t have an answer for right now.

Turns out the guys have done a great job fortifying the factory offices. Sandbags are stacked in the windows with only tiny cracks between them to shoot through. All sorts of junk have been piled around the building, leaving only a narrow, twisting path. Moreover, the piles of junk were laid out so that they couldn’t be used as cover from gunfire from the top floor. Off to one side, they’re also setting up a lookout post in some kind of tower. As I watch, two bandits equipped with a crowbar and a sledgehammer are knocking embrasures in the walls. It makes sense – that’ll be covering the attackers’ flank.

The bandit on guard duty recognizes me and steps out of the way to let me past. There’s a contraption made of iron bars wrapped in barbed wire that he pulls open for me. It won’t be easy to run up to the entrance now.

“Is the boss in?”

“On the first floor.”

At the entrance to the building, I find another guard and a similar structure of bars and barbed wire. This time, he doesn’t pull it aside, but instead lifts it up using a pulley. It’s a fortress! You won’t take it without cannon.

I immediately turn into the basement.

They’ve been working down here, too. There’s so much stone and rubble piled up against the walls, that a whole company of miners would have trouble getting through it.

“We tried to bring down the tunnel. Semyon put some TNT down there.”

I turn around. Gavrish is standing on the upper landing. Next to him is a short, stocky guy. Could that be Semyon?

“How did it go?”

“We filled it in ten metres deep.”

“Have you got yourselves an emergency exit?”

It’s Semyon who answers: “The lads are going to knock down a wall in the basement. Three days or so and we’ll be through to the building next door.”

So, this guy’s the local fortifications expert.

The boss and I head up to his room. On the way, I stop by a socket, move the junk aside, and plug in my laptop. The little green LED lights up – there’s a current. I pull the battery pack off the uninterruptible power supply from my backpack, and plug that in too. A couple more trips and all my batteries will be charged up. Semyon watches my operations with interest. That’s fine by me. All the extra gadgets for the computer are still in my basement, so at first glance it’s nothing more than a normal laptop. Plus, I’ve put a password on it.

“I saw your lookout on the fifth floor,” I tell Gavrish as I sit in a chair by the table. “Have you got it covered from the stairs?”

The boss throws a glance at his fortifications expert, who shakes his head.

“We’ll put some sandbags down tomorrow, and seal off the landing from all sides. My mistake – I should’ve thought of that myself.”

That’s decent of the guy – he holds his hands up apologetically, and gives me a respectful look. We’ll get on fine.

Then, before the conversations’s even got going, a bandit rushes into the room with shotgun in hand.

“Outside! We’ve got visitors!”

There’s a thunder of footsteps and everyone rushes to the embrasures. I follow, slinging Shorty from my shoulders.

Our visitors are just over a dozen men in camouflage. Obviously foreign. Are they USEC? Looks like it. They’re looking with wonder at the fortifications the bandits have managed to throw up in two days. The guys working in the tower have gone into hiding, but the barrels of their guns are poking watchfully from the freshly-made holes. Next to me crouches Semyon. He’s expertly and efficiently plugging a wire that runs downstairs into some gadget or other. What the hell is it?

“I’ve got a kilo of explosives down there,” he explains, seeing my questioning expression. “I discharged an old fire extinguisher and slapped it in there. Added some nails and a bunch of other old scrap. If they step any closer, it’ll have much the same effect as one of your bullets.”

I can imagine.

Our visitors aren’t hurrying forward, however. One of them brings his hand to his mouth. Is that a radio?

“Get me a radio, fast!”

It takes a second, then another, and a bandit appears beside me. In his hand is a looted radio set. I hope nobody’s been dicking around with the frequencies.

“Red two calling yellow group.”

So, that’s red group number two out there, is it? And you’d have to assume that yellow group are now all lying in the tunnel.

“I’m here from the Predator,” I answer in English.

There’s a shocked silence at the other end. They’ll be trying to work out who the hell this unknown Predator who’s hacked their frequency is. No doubt they’ll be remembering the movie.

The boss approaches, staring at the radio in my hands.

“Who the hell’s that out there?”

“Friends of the guys lying downstairs. They want to start throwing their weight around. I let them know whose toes they might be stepping on, and now they’ll think twice about it.”

Gavrish gives an evil grin.

“Well, well. A flag in their hands and a drum round their necks.”

“And a medal on their graves!” I say, remembering the expression.

There’s an ugly laugh from the bandits.

“They can fucking try!” says the boss, summing up the general mood.

“Red two calling. We’re sending a negotiator.”

“They’re sending a guy out to chat,” I say, translating our visitors’ message for Gavrish.

“Semyon, keep a look out!” orders Gavrish.

He puts his rifle in the corner and looks at me.

“Are you coming?”

Now, what can I say to that? I could refuse, of course. I’m not a member of the group. But how would they take it? I hang my rifle on a random nail, and stick the radio into a hoop on my webbing.

“Let’s go. It’s always good to talk.”

At the end of the pathway stands a man in military uniform. As far as I can see, he’s not armed. Although, judging by the size of him, this guy could manage quite well enough with just his fists.

“Greetings to you!”

“Top of the morning to you, too,” nods the boss.

“You were using our frequency. Does that mean you’ve got one of our radio sets?”

“That’s not all we’ve got,” agrees Gavrish. “We’ve also taken over this building.”

The soldier frowns.

“Are our… comrades not here?” He struggles to find the Russian words.

“No,” I butt in, “they’re definitely not here.”

“Where are they?”

“They had the misfortune to step on the toes of somebody whose toes you really don’t want to step on.”

He has a little trouble understanding this.

How best to explain?

“There are some people, VIPs, whose affairs you don’t want to get involved in. Your comrades couldn’t understand this. When we came along, it was all over already. All of them were dead. We moved in to an empty building.”

This, apparently, he understands.

“They had a key with them. A special key. It’s very important to us.”

“I’m afraid we didn’t find any keys on them.”

“Can we take a look at the bodies?”

“If you want to go mining, then why not? You’ll need to dig a shaft twenty metres deep. That’s how far down they are. We blocked off the entrance and blew up the tunnel.”