Neon Genesis Evangelion Fan Fiction ❯ The Way Out is Through ❯ The Final Cut ( Chapter 11 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

I do not own Evangelion, but if you still feel the need to sue, you should probably do the world a favor, and kill yourself

A/N: This is the culmination of over two and a half years of work. I hesitate to call it work, more like a labor of love. This story has evolved countless times before my eyes, and it has been a joy to write. I’d like to thank all of you who have read, and reviewed this story over the years, it was your reviews that kept me wondering how, exactly, will it end. So please, if you will, grab a beverage, sit back, and enjoy the final installment.


The Way Out is Through
By Ovrboost



High Hopes
-Pink Floyd


At the end of the soviet war in Afghanistan, Russia was humiliated. The world now knew that the massive soviet army was not invincible, and could indeed be defeated. With the fall of the Berlin wall, and the birth of democracy in Russia, the old Soviet block promptly fell into chaos. Chechnya was one of the first to rise in open rebellion.

“Christ it’s cold!” exclaimed a soldier who stepped out of the shelter of the dingy field tent, and into the winter night.

“Oh, stop complaining Yuriy, we all know it’s cold.” said another, who stood next to a large wooden pole serving as a road block.

“Hey, just because your wife got you used to this misery, doesn’t mean we are.” he shot back, grinning. Rocks crunched beneath Yuriy’s combat boots, as he strode up to the checkpoint. The man chuckled at the retort.

“One day Yuriy…” he said, pointing a finger, “One day, after you hit puberty, you’ll know what it’s like to have to put up with women.” Yuriy scoffed, and playfully gave his friend a faux backhand.

“Fuck you Valentin, and for your information, I have a girlfriend, and her name is Vanya. I‘ll show you a picture when we get off shift.”

“Oh really?” he asked, pulling some vodka from his pocket. He hefted the bottle, with a questioning glace.

“Please. But yes, really.” Yuriy continued, “I met her while I was visiting my grandparents in Moscow. Did I tell you they‘re gonna put up the money so I can go to school?” It was Valentin’s turn to scoff.

“Still wanna be a doctor huh?” Valentin queried, and proffered the vodka bottle, which Yuriy took quite gratefully.

“That’s the plan.” He said, with a sip. “Mm, car’s coming” Valentin looked over his shoulder, and saw the headlights. He breathed out a curse, and snatched up his rifle from up against the guard shack, Yuriy did the same.

“Nicolay; Ivan; Boris, Get out here! Car!” Yuriy belted out, as he took up position, opposite of Valentin, tossing the bottle back to his friend. The others came out of the tent, muttering curses, and brandishing rifles. Nicolay took charge, standing in front of the barricade, and motioned for the driver to stop.

The car came to a stop, the brakes squealed slightly, and the gravel crunched loudly under new tires. Nicolay stepped back., as Boris saddled up to the driver’s side window, and asked for paperwork. Routine, he thought, and turned his back to shield a cigarette from the wind in order to light it. The others visibly relaxed, and lowered their rifles, as they saw their lieutenant light his cigarette. Boris handed back the paperwork, and signaled for the gate to be raised. It would prove to be the last thing he ever did.

Boris had failed to notice the two men in the backseat had been holding AK-47 assault rifles on their laps, beneath a blanket, just as he had also failed to note that they were holding the doors closed. When he had turned his back to the car, the rear doors flew open, and the men stepped out. The driver produced a pistol, with which he proceeded to blow Boris’s life out the front of his forehead, and into a pink mist. The Russians guarding the checkpoint were suddenly caught unawares. So intent on retreating from the cold, they had lost precious seconds of reaction time. The two gunmen opened up on them with their rifles on automatic.

The sudden barking of the assault rifles masked the pained grunts of surprise, as first Ivan, followed shortly by Valentin took the majority of the opening bursts. Yuriy dropped down to a knee on instinct, and returned fire into the cab of the car, reducing the driver to a perforated carcass. For his part, Nicolay dived to his left after hearing the first gunshot, and found himself temporarily out of the line of fire. The gunmen were yelling curses, as they shifted fire. They shot everything in their frenzy, Yuriy included. Having taken two rounds, one to the upper chest, and the other to his right arm, Yuriy lay bleeding on the ground, and in shock. He managed to fight through the surprise of being wounded, and sit up with his rifle, putting a burst through the chest of one of the gunmen. The lone Chechen fumbled with a magazine change, but was rudely interrupted by Nicolay, and his service pistol. The first two shots took the man down, but Nicolay advanced on him, and emptied the remainder into his face, to be followed by a healthy dose of spit. After a moment, he turned, picked up the cigarette he had dropped earlier, and took a deep drag before flicking it away.

Yuriy coughed, and tasted blood in his mouth.

Yuriy’s breath caught, and he half choked on the taste of blood in his mouth. His eyes shot open, and realization stuck him like a thunderbolt. Yuriy sat up with a roar, his head swimming in the dark room. The noise startled Asuka awake, where she sat dozing up against the wall.

“Yuriy?” she asked with a tired voice. He didn’t hear her. Before she could say anything further, Yuriy stood to his full height, swaying slightly, racked a round into his shotgun, and lurched out of the room. “Shit…” she breathed out the word, and hurried to her feet to follow.

“Shinji!” he roared out, using the walls to steady himself. Asuka came out of the room, and watched him walk from her room, through the kitchen, and back again. “Svetlana!”

“Yuriy…” She said softly from beside him. He turned, and looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time.

“Asuka,” he said breathlessly, “Where’s Shinji?” The look on his face was breaking her heart all over again. The whites of his eyes stood out bright in the darkness.

“They took him.” He grimaced, and looked as though he were about to fall over.
“Svetlana?” he asked without really looking at her. There was something about his voice, that took all the strength out of hers.

“Yuriy… I’m so-”

“No.” He said, sliding down against the wall. His knees cracked loudly, as they past ninety degrees.

“Yuriy… Im so so sorry.” She tried to put a hand on his shoulder.

“No!” he roared out again, but he knew it was no use.

“Yuriy, She’s…”

“Dead.” he said with a half smile. “Your precious little red head is dead. Didn’t you know?” Shinji’s head lulled back and forth. Nicolay used the nightstick to raise Shinji’s head, and looked into his eye. He looked like a man who had just finished the boxing match from hell, with his left eye swollen completely shut, his face covered with his own blood, and sweat. “Did you ever get a chance to fuck her? Hmm?” Nicolay asked with a mocking voice. Shinji’s lips curled back to reveal blood stained teeth, and mumbled something unintelligible. “Too bad.” he said, letting Shinji’s head drop again. “She was… enjoyable. One of my favorites, despite all of her scars.” At this, Shinji’s head shot up, and he glared at Zurikov.

Nicolay laughed loudly. “Oh, she didn’t tell you?” he asked, with a broad smile. “You don’t know?” He laughed again. “Oh yes, my friend… I’ve had her more times than I can remember. It’s a pity I shall never enjoy her again.” Shinji mumbled again, behind clenched teeth. “Hmm? What was that?” Nicolay asked, getting closer. When his face was inches from his own, Shinji spat a large wad of bloodied spit into Nicolay’s face.

“I’ll fucking kill you.” Nicolay produced a handkerchief, and wiped the offending spit from his face, and grimaced.

“No,” he said, slamming the nightstick into Shinji’s abdomen, “you won’t.” He followed up with a shot to the kidney, and Shinji cried out in pain. “In fact,” Nicolay continued, using the weapon to break Shinji’s right forearm, “you are going to die right where you are.” Shinji was on the verge of passing out from the pain, his vision tunneling with the sudden release of white hot pain. “So why don’t you save yourself some trouble, and tell me where the rest of your compatriots are, hmm?” Shinji didn’t answer, mostly because he was unable.

Nicolay turned from the unconscious young man, and firmly placed the bloodied handkerchief on the chest of the guard in front of him. “Let me know when he regains consciousness.” He looked back momentarily, and handed off the night stick. “raise him back up.” With that last order, Nicolay strode back into the building. The guard nodded to another, who had been standing next to the winch. It gave off a satisfying clicking sound as he turned the crank, and slowly raised Shinji until he was hanging three stories above the pavement. Blood, and sweat dripped down from his body, and sizzled when it hit the spotlight.

Shinji found himself back in Japan. After roaming the decimated countryside for over four years, he was at the end of his road. That morning, he had buried his last body, his last ‘Asuka’. As far as he was concerned, he was finished. The world had ended, only to begin again, and it all had left him hollow. The building he picked had been non-descript, a two level concrete apartment building; the room he was in was similarly non-descript. The cracked concrete room, covered with the scattered remnants of a forgotten life, of a forgotten man, or woman, had one important feature; It had a large picture window, that faced to the west. There was a hook in the ceiling, supposedly for some kind of plant; he decided to use his belt.

As the sun set in a symphony of colors, Shinji mounted the chair, and slipped the makeshift noose around his neck. He stood there watching the sun. He had already decided to watch it to it’s last, and then take the step. The subtle colors played on his retina, while his mind searched for a classical piece to accompany this one last moment. Shinji watched himself, as the sun dipped below the horizon, and the day faded to twilight. He stepped off the chair.

Bad luck. The quick fall didn’t break his neck, and he started to suffocate. Shinji’s limbs thrashed, and his face started to turn purple. His eyes bulged as he fought the pain, and his fingers clawed uselessly at his neck. Shinji watched himself suffer for what seemed like an hour. His limbs started to slow, and the fight was all but over. He was dying. Finally.

Fate, however, had other ideas.

The door to the apartment creaked open slowly, and a girl appeared at the doorway, peering in cautiously. It didn’t take her long to find the young man suspended from the ceiling clawing drunkenly at his throat, a knocked over chair beneath him. To her credit, she reacted quickly. She dropped her bag, and rushed to him. She righted the chair, and unsheathed a knife which she used to slice the belt in two. It took a couple tries, but the belt eventually gave, and Shinji fell quite unceremoniously onto the hard floor. He had already blacked out, but she took the time to bring him back to life.

Ming. Shinji felt himself shudder within the dream. The fire they had built that night was warm, and he had found comfort in her company. The words, disembodied in the haze, echoed loud in his ears. She had seemed so innocent, yet strong enough for him to lean on her when needed. She had given him reason, and love. And, above all, she had saved him. The dream swept him away from the warmth of the fire, and deposited him on a Russian road.

Asuka. Shinji felt the goosebumps rise. “Shinji… Look at me…” she said, “You can’t give up…” He could still feel her arms around him. The memory fresh, and vivid enough that the scent of her permeated his dream. “Promise…. Promise me you won’t give up…” As bad as it was, for some reason, he didn’t want to dream anymore.


“We’re close,” said the driver of the UAZ, after he had shook Sasha awake. He nodded his understanding, and sat up in the passenger seat. Sasha watched the trees flash by his window in the grey early morning light. They had had a late start, and were forced to drive all through the night in order to make the deadline. He could still remember the curses of the tank drivers, as they weaved through their column in order to get out ahead of them. Remembering their curses, he swore quietly to himself. He knew why he was here. He knew exactly why he had been given the ‘honor’ of being the messenger. If it hadn’t been for that stupid girl, and her friends, he would still be ferrying orders, and fetching coffee.

Sasha had been horrified by his boss the previous night. Pointing at him with the stump of his left hand, accusing, and mocking him. Sasha had wanted to protest, but he knew better than that. To proclaim innocence, was to invite a bullet. Not that this ‘mission’ is much better, he thought. He watched the trees thin, and then disappear into houses. Irktusk.

“Slow down, no need to get shot at before we have a chance to deliver the message.” Sasha said, and turned back to his window, where the number of buildings before him had increased significantly. He felt the truck downshift, and he looked up to see a roadblock manned by three armed men. Sasha cleared his throat, and sat up higher in his seat. Play this right, and maybe they’ll have a message to return…

The moment the truck came to rest, Sasha had the door open, and he walked, hands open, and arms out, towards the men at the roadblock. He tried to put a disarming smile upon his face, but it did little to improve the stony countenance that stared back. Sasha heard one of them click off the safety on a rifle.

“I come bearing a message from the great Nicolay Zurikov!” he shouted, so that all those present could hear. There was no visible reaction from the soldiers before him, and Sasha let his arms drop to his sides. Their silence aggravated him to know end. “Didn’t you hear? I said-”

“We heard what you said.” replied one of the soldiers, who nodded to an unseen comrade behind him. “And here is our answer.”

“Wha-?” Sasha was dumbfounded, he was suppose to have an audience with their commander, not take orders from a lowly soldier. He heard a ‘chink’, like two glasses coming together, behind him. Confused he turned to see what it was. In the middle of the driver’s side windshield there was a hole, not much larger than a dime. Beyond that, he saw the slumping form of his driver, now most obviously dead. Sasha turned back to the soldier in horror, only to find him smiling, and aiming a rifle at his chest.

“Go to hell.” The soldier’s rifle barked out three rounds into Sasha’s chest.

At approximately the same time Sasha hit the ground, five kilometers away, Mikhail Eduardovich kicked his heavy boots up onto his field desk. All of his men had reached their pre-attack jump off points without a hitch, and all he was waiting on was the appropriate time. The temperature rose along with the sun, and Mikhail was immensely grateful that he had set up his command post beneath the trees of the forest. Always nice to fight in the shade, he thought. Twenty more minutes, and they would be on their way to controlling one of the largest cities in this part of the country, not to mention, a very large strategic oil reserve. Mikhail indulged himself with a premature self-congratulations on his cunning victory.

While Eduardovich was busy congratulating himself, his men sitting well forward of his position started to look curiously at the sky. Something that sounded like a cross between a jet airplane, and slowly ripping paper soared over their heads. The older soldiers among them cursed.

Mikhail was laughing with an aid over a dirty joke, when he heard the high pitched noise of the falling artillery shells. The smile died on his face, about the same time the first shell exploded against a nearby tree, sending deadly shrapnel, and fragments of said tree into the surrounding air. Eduardovich felt the deafening concussion, and the burning pain of shrapnel wounds knock him off his chair. Luckily for him, the second round was a direct hit, and he felt no more as his body, along with the only hope that remained for his men to mount a coordinated defense was vaporized in the resulting explosion.

The deadly barrage of shells, and exploding trees ended after an hour, having decimated the largely unprotected infantrymen. The survivors were disoriented, deafened, and already defeated by the time the shock troops arrived to mop up the scene. They took no prisoners.

The sun had finally freed itself from the eastern horizon by the time they had finished. They had made their way silently towards the small clearing during the night. Asuka knew enough to refrain from asking questions, in fact it seemed almost as though her presence was merely being tolerated. She took in the area, as best she could in the darkness. The large tree in the center filtered most of the moonlight into tiny weak beams, and she could just make out an old swing, and a grave marker. They buried Svetlana next to her mother.

Standing together in the morning light, they both gazed down upon the fresh dirt. It had a certain sense of finality to it, yet at the same time Asuka knew that this was by no means the end. Not by a long shot. She looked over to Yuriy, who for the first time in the past six hours managed to look back, and acknowledge that fact that yes, she was there. His eyes were no longer smiling, in fact, she would say they looked quite deadly.

“I know who did this, and where to find them.” she said, her voice low, but still distinguishable from the soft gurgle of the nearby creek. Yuriy simply nodded, and turned away.

After several steps, he stopped. “Tell me everything.” he said, then continued walking. Asuka followed, but didn’t begin to weave her tail of death, and misfortune until they had cleared the forest, and she could see the light of the sun again; She had to have something to fight off the cold chills. By the time she had finished, they had already reached the house, and entered through the back door. In the kitchen, he simply said, “Wait here,” and walked out. She was getting incredibly uncomfortable, as all that she had been able to get from him during the walk back were nods, and the occasional grunt. She needed him to say something, anything. The silence was almost too much to bear, especially after having imparted something so personal, so degrading, something so humiliating as that. She felt dirty.

Minutes ticked by, and Asuka was becoming impatient. Finally, just a moment before she was going to go and figure out what he was doing, Yuriy appeared, carrying a large footlocker. She could tell it was heavy, by the strain evident upon his face, and the way it shook everything after he dropped it onto the kitchen table. Asuka stood back and watched as he unlatched it, and opened the lid.

“What’s that?” she asked, almost afraid to know the answer. He looked at her a moment, and before she could say anything further, flung an AK-47 assault rifle at her, which she caught with a grunt. He slung another over his shoulder.

“I picked these up after what you call third impact. This,” he said, looking straight into her eyes, “is our vengeance.” Asuka nodded, and walked closer, to where he was hand loading a magazine. Silently, she grabbed another empty magazine from the box, and incidentally brushed his hand with her own. The touch felt electric, Asuka jerked her hand back, and the magazine clattered noisily to the floor. She quickly snatched it up, a slight, embarrassed blush rising in her cheeks. Yuriy paused to look at her for only a moment, then another round clicked into place. Asuka grabbed a handful, and started on hers.

“You know this is probably a suicide mission, right?” Asuka asked.

“Yes.”

“We’re gonna need more weapons, and a car.”

“Way ahead of you.”

“Anything yet from Mikhail?” Nicolay asked, as he strode into the tactical operations center (TOC). The medium sized room was a mass of wires, radios, maps, overlays, and all the people required to man it all. Nicolay joined Pasha up against the wall, where he could see everything.

“Nothing yet comrade, though his attack should have commenced about a half hour ago.” Pasha replied, and snubbed his cigarette out in an ashtray. He blew smoke out through his nose, “ The tanks are about twenty kilometers out. If Eduardovich ran into any trouble, they should be able to bail him out.”

“Excellent.” Nicolay said, “Any problems with radio contact?”

“None so far, though like I said, Eduardovich’s element lost contact when they entered the forest. We should be able to pick them back up once they establish contact with the armor.” Pasha offered Nicolay a cup of water, before continuing, “Find anything out from the scarecrow?” Nicolay laughed.

“Heh, no, not much, my friend. Though I don’t think he approved of our relationship with the girl.” he said with a grin, “Not that it really matters… She’s dead, and he’ll probably join her before the day is done.”

“Ah, which reminds me…” Pasha said, another cigarette hung in the corner of his mouth, “Josef paid me a visit, and dropped off another one of his ‘findings’.”

“Oh really?” Nicolay asked, his curiosity peaked. “And how is she?”

“Suffice to say, comrade, you will not be left wanting.”

“Hmm, perhaps I should go introduce myself to our new guest.”

Fifteen kilometers outside of Irktusk, the column of eight T-55 tanks rumbled down a road, surrounded on either side by the thick trees, and brush of the forest. Despite the condition of the roads, they were making good time at forty kilometers per hour, and they expected to be joining the battle shortly. The command tank was easily spotted, as it was not only at the head of the column, but it sported an array of antennas on it’s domed top. It would be, the tank commander felt, an excellent day for battle. Unfortunately, and unbeknownst to him, the battle was only moments away.

The driver in the lead tank was drowsy. The long hours of monotonous driving, and the constant vibrations had dulled his senses, so when he saw a thin strip of metal laying across the road just in front of his tank, he paid it no mind. I would prove to be a fatal mistake. That thin strip of metal, was actually two, banded together, to form a pressure switch detonator for the buried ordinance on either side of, and beneath the road. The resulting explosion was spectacular. It was as if the entire road leapt up, and swallowed the tank whole. The daisy-chained explosion ripped free of the ground, and decimated the first two tanks, actually sending them airborne. The crews never knew what killed them.

The remaining six tanks were forced to slam on their brakes, and they bunched quickly. No sooner had the last tank saved itself from a collision with the one before it, a hail of RPG fire rained in on the column from the right, and behind. The were caught in a classic L shaped ambush, and there was very little they could do about it. Two RPG’s slammed into the vulnerable rear of the last tank, penetrating into the engine compartment, and disabling it. The trees along both sides of the narrow road prevented the remaining tanks from traversing their turrets, and returning fire. For the tankers, it was all over, except for the dying.

Further back in the wood line, the man responsible for the ambush smiled, and shook the hands of those around him. With humor, and confidence in his booming voice, he addressed his radio operator.

“Send word to Zaitzev; He is free to attack at his leisure.”

The day had been a long one, and for those assigned to the so called ‘Home Guard’, it had been a relatively uneventful one. The evening brought with it a cooler, and vaguely festive air. On the eastern checkpoint, the sun was at their back, and the bottles were just beginning to come out. Conversation was light, and each man was looking forward to being relieved; The city was calling their name. When they saw the approaching vehicle, they were reluctant to abandon their card game, and vowed to exact some kind of petty revenge on those who dared to interrupt their precious game.

The old car that approached them was belching smoke from it’s exhaust, and had obviously seen much better days. One of the men cut a joke at the expense of the unknown driver. They began to expect something was amiss when the car failed to slow, instead, it belched more smoke, and accelerated. The men raised their rifles, and prepared to fire. When the car was no more than one hundred meters away, showing no intention of stopping, they opened fire, and the driver dove out, onto the shoulder of the road. The small arms fire made no difference, as the unmanned car barreled through the road block, the guards diving out of it’s way. With a sudden, blinding flash, the car disappeared in a fireball, as the bomb in it’s truck detonated. The barking of an assault rifle marked the end of any of those who remained at the checkpoint.

Asuka had finished stripping the extra magazines from the bodies, by the time Yuriy limped up to where she was. He looked at the satchel bag full of ammo, and nodded breathlessly. “They had a truck behind the guard shack.” she said, with a jerk of her head towards the burning building, “Want me to show you around town?”

“Lead the way” he said, paying little attention to the burning wreckage, and bodies around him. They had lucked out. In the bed of the truck, the guards had left an RPG launcher, complete with attached warhead.

The truck started easily, and Asuka slammed it into first gear. Her shoulder was beginning to bother her, as she man-handled the vehicle towards the city. To her right, Yuriy stared out at the surroundings without comment, his shotgun rested on his lap. They rode on in silence until they reached the city.

“Asuka,” Yuriy finally said, as they drove through the drifting smoke from a fire barrel. Asuka looked over to meet his gaze, and in that instant, an unspoken understanding passed between them. One warrior to another; One wounded soul to another.

“I know Yuriy,” Asuka said, pulled the truck over, and switched it off. In the sudden quiet, she said, “I know”, and Yuriy nodded. They dismounted quickly, Yuriy grabbing the rocket launcher out of the bed of the truck. “This way.”

The people on the street parted quickly for the two, nervous, and wary of anyone so obviously armed to the teeth. Asuka led Yuriy through the alleyways, as the twilight took over. They moved with a purpose, and with caution. They managed to reach a building that skirted the town square without incident, having avoided being spotted by anyone of consequence. By the time they broke in, and reached the top of the stairs, day had officially transitioned into night, and the light, and sounds of the square filtered eerily into the building from the broken windows. The room they picked had as good a view of the government building, and the square as one could wish for. They leaned against the wall on either side of a window, their assorted weapons at their feet, and peered out. What drew their eyes first, was the spotlight. What they saw after that, drew a gasp from Asuka. Yuriy groaned.

“Shinji” Yuriy said, as though the person he was referring to, were already dead.

“Oh no…” Asuka said, feeling sick, and with a half sob said, “Oh… oh god no…”

Nicolay sat alone in his office, nursing a stiff drink, and looking out the window. The lack of news from Irkusk sat heavily, like a weight upon his shoulders. He had expected a relatively swift victory, and by all rights should be in the midst of celebration. Instead, he sat pondering his options, trying to figure out a worst case scenario, and how to respond to it, with the resources he has left at his disposal. The ice melted in his glass, and he lost interest in the drink. A loud double knock at the heavy door brought him out of his deliberations.

“Come,” he said, loud enough for whomever it was to hear, without him having to turn his chair to face the room. Nicolay heard the door open, and the familiar sound of footsteps on the thin carpeting. The door closed, and he asked, “Any word yet?”

“No comrade,” it was Pasha, his voice solemn, “ No word yet, we’ve also lost contact with a checkpoint on the eastern edge.” At that, Nicolay turned in his chair, to face Pasha, his face spoke of confusion.

“The eastern edge?”

“Yes sir, I’ve just dispatched some men to look into it, they should be there within the half hour.” Nicolay stood, and made his way over to the map hanging before the conference table. He studied the road network spanning between Irktusk, and Chita.

A flanking counter-attack? The very notion of such a thing sobered him up quickly. “Pasha, I want you to deploy the rest of the infantry into defensive positions around the city, with a quick reaction force here in town. They need to be ready to roll, at a moment’s notice.” He paused, “How many tanks do we have left?”

“We still have the two operational ones we held here on reserve.” Pasha answered.

“Good, send them to support the infantry. Have them dig in, just in case.” Nicolay said, finally turning to his old friend. “Pasha, I have a bad feeling about this, we should have heard back from Mikhail by now.”

“I know,” Pasha said, “We will be ready, comrade. That, I promise you.”

They stayed in the building for a little over an hour, while Asuka explained what little she remembered of the building’s layout. As she talked, Yuriy loaded spare magazines for the pistol he had acquired from one of the dead guards, and doled out the weapons, and explosives between them. The plan was simple, despite the addition of an ad hoc rescue attempt. Before they left the room, they each took one last look at Shinji. Yuriy was the first to turn away, and head down the stairs. Asuka secured her tactical vest, holding spare magazines, with a ‘click’, and said. “We’re coming Shinji, just… hold on a little bit longer.”

At the mouth of the alleyway, Asuka rejoined Yuriy. He acknowledged her with a quick nod, and they crept forward towards the town square, keeping to the shadows. The deep sound of diesel engines stopped them in their tracks, as they neared the other side. Both watched in horror, as two T-55 soviet built tanks rumbled past them, on their way towards the bridge spanning the Ingoda river. Asuka tapped Yuriy on the shoulder, and whispered.

“Will the RPG take one of those out?”

“If we’re lucky, but I’d prefer not to try.” Yuriy replied, trying to relax his body, as the sound of the tanks lessened with the distance. They were lucky as far as sneaking around goes, the only light in the square came from the windows of the government building in it’s center, the spotlight, and a handful of trash barrels. The two sprinted out from the alleyway, Yuriy’s limp was pronounced, though not overly cumbersome. With a dulled thump, they both collided with a UAZ-462 parked at the side of the building. “Okay Asuka, lead the way.” Yuriy said, slightly out of breath from the exertion.

Asuka led him to the door she had used not even a week prior to escape. Just being back here brought cold chills, Her hand wavered an inch above the door knob. After a moment, Yuriy said, “It’s okay Asuka… It’s now them who should be afraid.” She looked back at him sharply, in time for him to catch a glimpse of her eyes, before she turned back, and flung open the door. He wasn‘t quite sure what he saw in them, but it did not matter. They burst through the door together, and into an empty foyer, at the base of some stairs.

“His office is on the top floor…” She said, “I was on the third, right below his.”

“What’s on the first?” He asked.

“No clue.”

“Then let’s find out, shall we?”

“What do we know?” Pasha asked, as he stood before the main map board hanging up in the TOC. The room was buzzing with the twenty men needed to operate the radios, and maintain operational control of everything in the sector. The battle captain, in his mid thirties, was actually a major, and a cruel looking man with a deep scar running the length of his face.

“At this point, sir, not much new.” The major paused, to point a gloved finger towards a point on the map. “The checkpoint to the east was overran, and all the men there were killed either by the car bomb, or by small arms fire.” He brought his hand down, and started making his way towards another map. “That checkpoint is now re-manned, and the roadblock has been reinforced… However, it doesn’t appear that any counter attack will be originating from the east. We have scouts combing up to three kilometers out, and insofar, they’ve seen no trace of an enemy force.”

“Okay, that’s good to know…” Pasha said, gratefully accepted a beverage from an aid, and motioned for the major to continue.

The Major pointed on another, larger map. “Our forces attacking Irktusk, as you know, have been out of contact since 1300... As of now, we are considering them as lost, unless we hear from them within the next two days. I’ve deployed most of our infantry to flank all the major routes leading into town from Irktusk. Should a counterattack happin, we should be ready.”

What about the tanks, comrade?” Pasha asked, and dabbed at the perspiration on his forehead with a handkerchief. The major’s mouth opened in reply, but his words were cut off by the sound of gunfire in the hallway outside the room. Everyone in the TOC froze, as the shock of what was happening registered. The sounds of automatic fire silenced as quickly as it came. Pasha looked towards a group of men already under arms, and said “Check it out.”

The men trotted quickly to the door, checking magazines, and flipped the safety levers down onto automatic. Before the first man could open the door, a large hole exploded through the wood with a resounding boom. The man had caught the shotgun blast square in the gut, and went over quickly. The men behind him were too stunned to react to the grenade that followed the blast through the hole in the door. The second explosion, infinitely louder than the first sent bodies, and equipment flying. The remaining men in the TOC found themselves diving to the floor, the lights above them knocked out from the blast, and hung limply from wires.

Pasha wrestled a pistol out of the holster of a man lying next to him. He looked up towards the door in time to see a flash of matted red hair, and a dark, baseball shaped item hurling toward him. He knew exactly what it was, as the grenade thumped down right in front of him, and rolled to a stop. The last thought to ever pass through his mind was one simple word, which he voiced.

“Fuck…”

Three stories above the action, Nicolay could feel, as well as hear the muffled explosions below him. For a moment, he simply sat there watching the ripples in the glass sitting on his desk. He stood suddenly, and his first reaction was to look out the window, where he saw a handful of his men running towards the building. His building. He turned from the window, and opened one of the top drawers in his desk, to retrieve his pistol. No sooner did he have the pistol in hand, two of his personal body guards burst into his office.

“What’s happening?” Nicolay said, keeping his voice calm, while fighting the rising panic within.

“The building is under attack,” one of the men said breathlessly, “not sure how many yet.” Nicolay walked around his desk, and towards the door. He only made it twelve feet, before a deafening explosion outside lit up the night, and blew out the building’s windows.

“Christ almighty, what the fuck was that?!” yelled one of the guards, as he brushed glass off of his uniform. Nicolay walked back to the window in a daze, and looked out to the square. As the glass crunched beneath his feet, another explosion rocked the city only a block away. He watched in horror as explosion after explosion appeared as flashes in the night. Below him, the wreckage of an overturned vehicle burned brightly, but the crater beside it was unmistakable.

Nicolay answered the guards question with one word, as he turned back toward them. “Artillery.” The look on the guard’s faces told the tale, they were scared out of their minds. The explosions were becoming more frequent, as the shelling intensified, and Nicolay finally stepped up to his men. “We need to move.” He took one last look at his office, and said, “Now.”

The hallway was filled with a haze, littered with bodies, and stank of fire smoke, and cordite. They had managed to set up a bottleneck in the corridor, and the killing was easy, and plentiful, as the men kept pouring in through the two entryways in front of them. No one was left in the hallway, save for Yuriy, and Asuka, who were hunkered down behind furniture they had hastily piled in the hall as a barricade. They were as shocked as Nicolay had been when they heard, as well as felt the deep rumbling explosions outside.

“What the hell was that?” Asuka asked

“Sounds like artillery… I’d hate to be outside right now.” he responded. The color seemed to drain out of Asuka’s face.

“What about Shinji?!” she cried out, grabbing a handful of Yuriy’s shirt. He didn’t even seem fazed. Yuriy looked back at her calmly.

“I’d be surprised if he were alive even before the blast.” he said, the grip on his shirt starting to relax. “A man can’t survive crucifixion for too long…” He looked away. “Besides, right now he would only slow us down, or get us killed.” When he finished, he felt a sharp sting on his cheek, and heard the clap of skin hitting skin, as she slapped him hard across the face. After he shook off the sudden shock, he looked back at a seething Asuka.

“You maybe right, but I’m not gonna give up on him…” She said in a low, dangerous voice, “Whether you help me or not, I’m going to get him down.” That said, she stood, and shouldered her rifle, being careful not to touch the searing hot barrel. She looked at him expectantly as he mulled the choice over in his mind. Finally he stood with her.

“We’ll get him down, but he’s your responsibility.” He said, “I’m not finished here yet.”

“Fine.” Asuka said, and walked out into the stairwell ahead of him. Without looking, Asuka was soon outside of the building. She heard a gunshot behind her, and the sound of a body falling through to the foyer. Yuriy appeared in the doorway, an irritated look on his face.

“Pay more attention Asuka,” he said, laying a large hand on the top of her head, “he was sighting in on your head when I got ‘em” Yuriy looked both ways, as he exited onto the street, and jogged as best as his wounded leg would allow him in a crouch. Asuka swallowed hard, and followed. The ground was shaking intermittently beneath her feet with the concussions caused by the falling artillery, and she did her best to avoid tripping on the debris scattered along the street. The top of the building they had used to survey the town square earlier, exploded into a shower of decimated masonry, and fire, as they reached the front of the building. In the square, it was pure pandemonium. A horde of people were running for their lives, running from something coming from the west. The exodus was oddly quiet, with only the occasional screams sounding out with every close call. Asuka could hear the faint echoes of small arms fire somewhere in the distance between the artillery explosions.

Asuka followed right behind Yuriy, as he muscled his way to where Shinji was. Occasionally, a frightened man, or woman would slam into him, only to continue on without so much as a reaction on their faces. Yuriy stopped, and Asuka looked up reflexively, to see Shinji hanging three stories directly above them. She wanted to call out to him, to tell him to hold on, but she knew there would be no way he could hear her. Yuriy wasted no time, and started cranking on the manual winch. Bit by bit, Shinji came towards them. Asuka couldn’t tear her eyes off of his decimated body. It was too horrible to look away, she just couldn’t do it. A high pitched whistling noise interrupted her vigil, Yuriy had stopped cranking and dove onto Asuka, taking her to the ground. The crowd of people around them surged forward with the sound, all trying to outrun the inevitable. A high explosive artillery shell, fitted with a proximity fuse detonated in an air-burst almost directly over the center of the horde of people. The explosion, and inertia of the flying fragments created a cone of death, and destruction, with a radius of approximately fifty meters at the base. It looked as though the people trapped beneath it were simply flattened, dead before they hit the ground, while the resulting shockwave sent those around them flying.

Asuka’s ears were ringing hard from the nearby explosion, so she didn’t really notice the dramatic increase of volume from the crowd, but she saw the hysterical panic in all of their faces. Yuriy was already up, and again cranking Shinji down.

The crowd below him was coming closer, bit by bit. Shinji was only semi-conscious when the shelling started, and the horrifying events unfolding before him seemed filtered by a dream haze. By this point, he had been transitioning in, and out of consciousness so much so that he no longer knew what was, and wasn’t real. The pain was still there, it was his only constant, though it had become noticeably dulled, and he felt almost numb to it all. Shinji squinted into the teeming crowd with blurred vision. In the midst of all the people, we saw, or thought he saw, a single figure standing like a lone tree caught in a flood. As he passed below the second story line, he squinted harder, trying to make out the figure. What he saw defied reason. What he saw, or thought he saw, was Rei. Standing there in her school uniform, as though she had just come here from school. As impossible as it all seemed, he accepted it. He accepted it, only because he knew he had seen it before.

Shinji’s bound feet finally touched down on the old cobble-stoned ground. No longer able to support himself, his knees buckled, and he continued to hang limply from the coarse, wooden beam. He felt arms encircle him, easing his decent, and strong hands unbuckling the thick leather straps that had secured his arms to the beam. Shinji cried out weakly, as his broken right arm fell limply to his side.

They laid him out on the ground, and Yuriy went about taking stock of the younger man’s injuries. While Yuriy took his pulse, Asuka tilted his head up, and brought water to his lips. The sound of falling artillery subsided, only to be replaced with the sounds of a non-too-distant firefight, punctuated with the intermitted booms of a large caliber cannon. Yuriy looked up at Asuka, and shook his head solemnly. She bit her bottom lip just hard enough to taste blood, and nodded.

“Shinji? …It’s me …Asuka.” She said, just loud enough for him to hear. Shinji mumbled something she couldn’t understand over the noise of the finally thinning crowd. Looking out towards the square, she could make out clearly the mass of gore that had once been twenty, or thirty terrified people. “Listen Shinji… We got ya now, you’re gonna be alright. Yuriy’s gonna patch you up.” Yuriy grimaced, and leaned in to speak.

“That’s right, my young friend, you’ll be as good as new.” Shinji again mumbled something that could have been a ‘thank you’, but neither were sure. He crouched next to Asuka, and whispered into her ear, to which she replied in kind. Yuriy stepped away, and pulled his medical pack from where it was slung on his back. After a moment, he produced three small, morphine injectors, which he punched into Shinji’s bruised Thigh. It took a second, but the effects of the powerful painkiller were visually obvious. When the drug finally hit, Shinji sighed out a deep breath, and a faint smile came over his face. He motioned for Asuka to come closer. When she complied, he whispered into her ear.

“I knew you‘d come… I j-just wanted to see you again.” he said, “I’m glad I got to…” Shinji gripped her hand in his left, as best he was able.

“Me too Shinji,” Asuka sniffed back a threatening sob, “Me too.” He chuckled slighty.

“Ya know, this stuff feels great,” he said, drawling out the last word, “You should try it.” Asuka choked out a stifled laugh.

“I wish I could, but you used all we got, you dummy.” She said, trying to smile. She felt Yuriy’s large hand on her shoulder. Asuka turned to look up at him.

“I’m sorry, but… we’re running out of time Asuka.” She pursed her lips, and looked between the two men.

“Just…” Asuka said, “Just give me a minute, okay?” He nodded his assent . When she turned back to Shinji, she could tell he was fading fast. “Shinji?”

“Yeah?” he asked, eyes half lidded. She hugged him close to her, he responded by returning the embrace with his good arm. After a moment that seemed all too brief, she pulled back, looked him in the eyes, and leaned in. Asuka kissed his swollen lips tenderly, while fighting back the tears. She tasted his blood in her mouth, and felt his shuddering breath.

“Shinji, I love you.” His eyes, and his smile seemed content.

“I know.” Asuka’s shoulders hitched, and before he could see her cry, she took him into another embrace, cradling his head in her hands. She could feel his slowing pulse thudding weakly against her palm. She felt his frail body relax beneath her. With a breathy voice, she heard him say, “I’m home.”

Shinji finally felt content, as his sight faded. Stars danced in his limited field of vision, as he descended into a comfortable, final peace. He didn’t mind, this was a warm place. And Asuka cried.

Yuriy nearly had to pry Asuka from Shinji’s still form, but eventually she yielded. After she closed the lids on the young man’s eyes a final time, she stood, and wiped the pain from her face. What emerged from the other side of her forearm was a mask of determination. She took her rifle back from Yuriy, and with a swift jerk of her hand, racked a round into the chamber of her assault rifle.

“Yuriy, if we survive, we bury him. I’m not going to leave him behind.” she said, leaving no room for negotiation in her voice.

“I would have it no other way.” He answered, and lead the way back into the building.

Nicolay, and his body guards surveyed the catastrophe that remained of the TOC. The smoky haze obscured most of the mutilated bodies from view, but the level of destruction was plain to see. Nicolay could feel all of his dreams slipping away. All the things he had worked so hard for going up in flames, like everything being engulfed in the growing fire further down the hall. He spat on the floor, and nodded to his men. It was time to leave. To where, he did not yet know, though escaping the city was starting to sound like an exceptionally good idea.

The entourage walked briskly down the halls toward the rear of the building, where several trucks were waiting to spirit them away to a place where they could regroup with more of their men. Nicolay was leading the pack, his pistol still held by his side. He cut an imposing figure, and as it happened made an excellent target, as he managed to lead his men into an ambush.

Yuriy and Asuka hadn’t exactly been lying there in wait, in all actuality, they had been creeping down the sides of the hallway, when Nicolay’s group appeared in the mouth of an intersecting corridor. Asuka opened up first, emptying the entire clip in a mad spray that managed to miss more than anything else. Rounds ricocheted off the tiled flooring, and took out several panes of the overhead fluorescents, men, and weapons dove for hasty cover. The sudden firefight was a furious exchange of automatic weapons, and had Yuriy not drove open a door at the immediate onset of the action, he would be either dead, or dying on the tile. Yuriy stopped firing, long enough to exchange magazines, and by the time he was ready to rejoin the action, a thunderous boom echoed down through the hall, and he felt the concussion of the blast strike his chest. Shocked, he looked to Asuka, who wore a smirk, and was holding up a second grenade as if asking for permission. The fire had stopped, so he held up his finger in a ‘wait one’ gesture.

The explosion had decimated Nicolay’s small force. He shoved the body of one of his men off of him, and took a look around through the haze. His eardrums had been shattered by the nearby explosion, so the scene had taken on an eerily silent quality. He felt drained, as if all of the strength he had left in his proud frame was fleeing him. Nicolay’s head felt unnaturally heavy, and cumbersome, as he realized that he alone was left alive. A shadow came over him, and he looked up into the face of a towering, bearded face. Nicolay groped for his pistol, and just as his hands closed around it, and foot came down on it, crushing his fingers around the grip. Nicolay couldn’t even hear himself cry out. When his eyes followed the foot up to the leg, shapely thigh, hips, breasts, and finally settled on the darkened, scared face framed by dirty, matted red hair, he understood.

“I know this man.” Yuriy said, and Asuka looked at him puzzled.

“You do?”

“Nicolay Zurikov… This man saved my life once in Chechnya.” He paused, “ He was my commanding officer.” Asuka looked at Yuriy for a moment, then back down at Nicolay. She thought a moment, then crouched down, and snatched the heavy forty five caliber pistol from Nicolay’s hand. She then proceeded to aim, and fire the weapon at Nicolay’s crotch. The man’s screams were horrendous, but Asuka managed to make herself heard over them.

“Well, to me he’s just a rapist, and a murderer.” She turned away, and continued. “I have my vengeance Yuriy, all I ask is that if you kill him,” she looked him in the eyes, “you make it hurt.” Yuriy simply nodded, and produced a knife with a gleaming eight inch blade. Asuka waited down the hall and listened to Nicolay scream for ten agonizing minutes, with a single gunshot to add punctuation.

When Yuriy rejoined Asuka, neither said a word, yet they both understood that they had done what they had set out to do. She picked herself up off the tiled floor, and they made their way out of the building for the last time. The smell of smoke was heavy, and both assumed the building would eventually burn to the ground. Outside, the fighting was all around them. They worked their way back to the front of the building carefully, trying to stay out of the sight of the two warring armies. A surviving tank rolled through the square at top speed, turret facing it’s rear, and alight in a blaze of fire from it’s 7.62mm co-axial machinegun. The fight was turning into a rout, and they both knew the time to leave was now. They were still alive, but it was obvious they were far from safe.

Asuka shouldered the burden of most of Yuriy’s weapons, when he picked up Shinji’s body in a fireman’s carry. Yuriy’s limp was much more pronounced, under the added strain, and he was barely able to keep pace with her as they fled the city square. They raced through the alleyways, yet always checked the angles for signs of someone trying to kill them. The truck, miraculously was still parked where they had left it some several hours earlier. Yuriy let Shinji’s body gently down into the bed of the truck, and felt grateful for the release of weight off of his legs. The majority of the fighting was now behind them, as they started the truck, and drove off with a quick squeal of protest from the tires. The city buildings raced quickly past, and like the last time she left the city, Asuka could feel it, like a weight coming off of her shoulders. She allowed herself, now in the passenger seat, to relax a bit, and close her eyes in reflection. She could feel the truck riding along the rough road, as they eased around a bend towards where the checkpoint had been.

The sudden application of brakes brought both her eyes open with a snap. Yuriy slowed considerably, as he recognized the tank, it’s 100mm barrel staring them down from a hastily dug in position, but did not stop. He passed cautiously to the right of the tank, started shouting in Russian at the men manning the position.

“Make way!” he yelled, “Comrade Nicolay is right behind us, make a hole!” The men, still seemingly shocked by the severity of the attack on their city heeded his words, and made a hole for them. They passed unmolested through the throng of men, and equipment. These men were too scared, and too few to put up much of a fight anyways. They had just cleared the last of them, when Asuka spoke up.

“Yuriy, pull over for a second.” He looked at her, confused, but did as she asked. He watched, as she hefted the RPG launcher that they had not yet used, and sighted in on the rear of the tank. “Can’t leave without a parting gift…” she said, “it’s just rude.” Exhaust gases erupted out of the back of the launcher, and the warhead leapt out, and streaked towards the dug in tank. Yuriy craned his head to watch as the rocket hit the pavement short of the tank, and ricocheted into an adjacent truck. The warhead detonated with a flash that sent bodies flying. Yuriy was quick on the gas, and they were soon bouncing back down the road, before Asuka had a chance to secure herself in the seat. They drove all through the rest of the night.

Another day, another body buried, another loved one gone. Asuka stood alone beneath the tree where they had buried Shinji. It was appropriate, she thought, that he be buried next to his wife. The work had been done as soon as they had returned to the house that was no longer a home. There was no real reason for either of them to rest, there was no point in them staying. Yuriy, and Asuka both avoided going in the house at all costs. Neither one of them wanted to see the bloodstains, or the burnt carpet. For his part, Yuriy stayed true to form. He was right the first time they had dug a grave together; He’s no priest. Asuka couldn’t help but wonder, whether or not Shinji had said anything after he had finished burying all of those bodies while he was still looking for her. The breeze rustled the leaves on the tree, and she decided that it really didn’t matter.

As she stood there, alone, Asuka reflected back on all the memories she had of Shinji. From the Over the Rainbow, to the simple reply of ‘I know’, she found it remarkable how miserable both of their lives had been. So much pain, and so little happiness. She found herself trying to figure out how she might have done things different, if only she had known then what she knew now. Asuka watched the shadows of the leaves play on the two tombstones, and in a moment of clarity so astounding it took her breath away, Asuka felt that she had figured it all out.

All of the struggles, and all of the pains that they had shared, they had shared together. Life can only be what you make of it, and much depends upon how you deal with it. She finally realized that there is no real reason to it all; You can only reap what you sow. In the end, there is no shortcut, or way around the pains, and no way to cheat a fate that refused to be cheated.

No, she realized, The only way out, is through.








The journey west had started during a quiet conversation around a small fire by the shed behind Yuriy’s house that fateful summer. True, it had always been Asuka’s eventual goal to return to her homeland, but she had never dreamed of having a companion along for the ride. Yuriy agreed to come along with her readily, it seemed that he too had felt a need to move on.

The journey west was a long one, and things got interesting along the way, as, to Asuka’s surprise, she discovered that she was indeed with child. That particular moment of realization had been incredibly frightening. On top of all the worries about her increased vulnerability, she ultimately had to wonder whose child it was… Shinji’s, or the nameless guard. The questions, and haunting, nightmarish thoughts plagued her throughout the pregnancy. If not for Yuriy, she knew now, she would have been tempted to try and rid herself of the unexpected burden.

The delivery of the child, now going on three years old, had been an ad hoc affair conducted in a small Bavarian farm house in the cold of early spring. Mercifully, the child had been born without any serious complication. When Yuriy presented the baby boy to her, Asuka looked into it’s face, and knew immediately who’s child it was. With relief, she remembered, that had been the first she had seen Yuriy truly smile since they had started their journey together.

Asuka sat alone in the shade of a elm tree, and watched her son help Yuriy pick berries in the evening sun. The air was comfortable, and she was content with her new life. Though she never managed to love Yuriy the way that he had wanted, she knew he would not leave them, and over time, her only regret was not having had the opportunity to truly love the father of her son longer. Though, she had to admit to herself, it was probably best that she didn’t.

A slight breeze rustled the leaves on the tree, and Asuka stood. A peaceful life, even one with such a horrible past, is all she could ask for. Asuka heard Yuriy, and her son calling for her. With a sigh, she left the past behind, and walked out into the light.