Outside of Talgar Kazakhstan.

When he woke up he couldn’t help but notice the coldness of the Kazakhstani Mountains as he woke up, but he felt warmness in his hip that contrasted against that coldness and he heard the roar and rev of an engine in the distance, he thought to himself it was a 1990 Dodge Ram truck. He was trying to remember how the hell he got there and slowly got himself up to his feet but felt a sharp pain where the warmness was. He put his hand there and rubbed on it lightly and took up his hand. The glove was smothered in blood.

He crawled up and looked over a small rock in which he could see the Kazakhstani town of Talgar in the dead of night looking beautiful and peaceful; he was near the Mongolian border he noted to himself before collapsing. He hoped someone would note the unfortunate circumstances in which he had been put under. But he thought it would be funny that this was what was to happen to him. He remembered what happened just an hour ago.

“You thought you could fool us you fucking moron. We are the Russian Mafia, we are the reason you came here, no?” A big Russian man said to him as he was tied to a chair. He spit at the Russian who punched him the mouth. The Russian was heaving from punching so hard. The CIA officer A.K.A Agent Huntington looked at him and said one word.

“Babushka.” He mouthed and got a punch in the mouth and he fell down pretending to pass out. The man tried to pick him up but he sweep legged him and broke the chair on the man’s head. He got up free from the ropes watching more Russian guards come at him.

“Get that son of bitch now!” The Russian said grabbing his head. Huntington took the man’s Makarov 8mm pistol and fired three rounds at the Russian men running at him. He turned and jumped for the window and slide on the paneling on the side and fell rolling down the hill and he heard Automatic fire coming at him.

He got up hearing Russians and others screeching for him. He turned the corner and running to the road but suddenly he was thrown to the floor by a truck. That’s all he could remember other than the Russian man he hurt in the truck mumbling. “Make sure you don’t kill him with the gun, I want that bastard to suffer.” He now in real time tried to walk the road hoping someone would drive by