Chapter 1

After the liberation of the Time Machine from the hated Allied forces at San Francisco, and the destruction of Yuri’s subterranean Submarine Pen, the Redeemer, Dmitri Danilov and Sabre Squad were summoned back to Moscow for celebrations of their victories in America.

As Sabre Squad’s Flak transport rolled over Red Square and past the mighty and beautiful building which is St. Basil’s Cathedral, Dmitri thought to himself, Greetings once again, my old friend.

“So do you know where we are being decorated, Comrades?” asked Sascha as he turned to look out of a gun port of the vehicle to peek at the Cathedral.
“If Comrade Romanov is going to give us full military honors, I’d guess we’ll be awarded inside the Kremlin, make a grand speech to the nation from the window, and then I think we will visit Lenin’s Tomb.” Replied Dmitri as he rubbed his hands together to keep himself warm.
“It appears we have arrived friends.” Added Derek as the Flak Track took a left turn and slowed to a halt.

As the door of the vehicle opened, a bright beam of light shot in through the door, partially blinding the occupants inside. As they walked out of the transport, Sabre Squadron were greeted by two burly, bearded men, one dressed in a familiar wolf skin hat and coat, the other dressed in full military uniform.

They were General Vladimir of the Soviet Navy and Sascha’s arch nemesis Boris.
“Ah, so these are the soldiers that saved my navy from almost certain destruction,” started Vladimir as he approached Dmitri, arms open in greeting, “I cannot thank you enough, Comrade.” Finished the tall general as he trapped Dmitri in a colossal hug.

As Sascha climbed out of the transport, his gaze collided with that of Boris.
“Comrade Sascha. I must say it is a most unpleasant surprise to see you.” Spat Boris with his Kalashnikov over one shoulder, his left hand gasping a stub of a cigar between his index and fore fingers.
“The feeling is mutual, Boris.” Replied Boris, as he lightly booted a small amount of dirty snow onto Boris’ newly shined boots.

Boris, unfazed by this, dropped his smouldering cigar stub onto Sascha’s boot and snuffed the red hot end with his boot, leaving a nasty black dirty burn on Sascha’s boot.

With this, Boris took one step closer towards Sascha’s ear and whispered, “At least I can replace my boots, grunt.”
This comment pushed Sascha to the point of exploding. With a huge swing, Sascha punched Boris in the mouth so hard, it sent the Soviet hero flying backward a few feet, landing in the dirty slush at the side of the road.
Rage covered Boris face as blood began to spill from the corner of his mouth. With a growl, he picked up his AK-47 loaded it and pointed it at Sascha’s forehead.

Alerted by the scuffle, General released his grip of Danilov to stop the fight.

“BORIS! THIS BEHAVIOR IS NOT BEFITTING OF A SOVIET HERO! LOWER YOUR WEAPON IMMEDIATELY.”
Receiving no response from Boris, the tall general stood in front of the soldier.
“LOWER YOUR WEAPON NOW COMRADE, OR I WILL PERSONALLY SEE TO IT YOU WILL EAT ALL OF YOUR MEALS FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE THROUGH A STRAW. DO IT! NOW!” bellowed Vladimir as his face turned a deep violet.
Obviously angered by his reprisal from the general, he turned to walk away. “This isn’t over Sascha. You make sure you watch your back.” Said Boris, slush dripping from the back of his wolfs fur coat, storming off towards the city.

“Pompous fool.” Stated General Vladimir as he walked over to Sascha. “Normally I would have let you fight, but since you are being decorated by the Premier, it is my job to ensure you are looking at your best for the ceremony.” said Vladimir to Sascha in a low voice only he could hear.

“Now, Comrades. You have two hours to prepare for the ceremony. I expect you to be wearing your formal, military uniform for the Premier. He has heard very highly of you from Lieutenant Zophia. I wouldn’t want the Premier’s expectations of you to be let down.”

Finished the general as he lead the soldiers into the Kremlin as the crowds began to mass around the edges of Red Square for the speech to be made by Alexander Romanov later that day.

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