Moscow, Russia
Zolnerwich was a leading politician in the reintroduction of a democratic regime that had gripped Russia in the last five months, there were many who had been upset with the changes. Those that continued to support the former communist regime, but what Zolnerwich and his allies were doing was building towards a brighter future, one that allowed them to interact and to be accepted by the rest of the European Union, who currently saw them as a threat.
A stout man with a furry grey moustache, Zolnerwich had never been much of a soldier himself but he had come from a long line of them, he decided the more passive approach was worth a try. Violence in Russia had never solved anything, he was an elderly gentleman, he had seen the attempts of the communist regime and he had watched it fail.
It was time for something new and promising to take over.
His wife was dead and his daughter was now asleep, soon to be married and she would continue the family after he was long gone. Zolnerwich was a nostalgic man.
“I thought you would come,” he muttered in Polish, his first language, as he walked down the hallway in his nightgown.
Stepping from the shadows, a beautiful and elegant young woman made her presence known. Her blonde hair dropped across her shoulders, her body clad in a black. As he came to a stop, the woman unsheathed a samurai sword that she had been carrying on her person.
“I hate myself for ever having created you,” he growled in a last act of defiance as her turned to face her. “You’re everything the program was created to stop.”
“Do not worry,” she snarled malevolently. “I will relish in having destroyed you.”
Rushing at the elderly man, the second Black Widow dug the samurai sword through the politician’s chest, impaling him into the wall of his own home. As the blood trickled from his mouth, she watched her handy work and she watched him die. Cursing him in Russian, she pulled the sword from his chest and wiped it down before she sheathed it.
Guards rushed in behind her, only to discover they were too late.
With a victorious smirk, she turned and ran down the hallway. Bullets fired around her but she dodged each and everyone with her enhanced agility and rushed at the window with her elbow, smashing through it she fell from the third story of the building. Ejecting her widow’s web, it caught the peak of the roof and allowed her to run up the wall as the guards could only watch.
Standing on the roof as the dignitary’s daughter screams reached her ears, Yelena Belova felt remorse.
|
#1
DEC 09 |
 |
Red Warzone, Part One:
“Dignitaries Falling”
One Week Later
Kremlin D.F
Moscow, Russia
“Black Widow.”
The voice that greeted her was not unfamiliar; she had met Vazhin on one of the many occasions that she was an operative of the American SHEILD, a pre-emptive strike against terrorism through the means of espionage at which Natasha Romanova was adept. For the last month, dignitaries in the new democratic movement in Russia’s hierarchy had been dropping like flies and Nicholas Fury wasn’t happy about the lack of progress that was being made. When it came to high priority missions Fury made no secret that his first choice would always be Captain America and his Avengers, but when the time called for a covert operative, the Black Widow was always the first choice.
A fact that Vazhin was all too aware of.
Svelte and beautiful, Natasha was as picturesque as a model or an actress but there was something far more dangerous in the depths of those green eyes; she was a woman who had been jaded and betrayed on far too many occasions to ever fully allow her to trust anyone.
The Avengers had offered her membership, but she had refused. In the recent years, she had become something of a lone wolf. She hunted alone; it was how she had survived and how she had always survived. Having been the creation of the communist regime, she knew it intimately from the inside out and she was well aware of where to look. She was the greatest asset he could receive, even if he found Fury’s intrusion into Russia’s boundaries unwelcome.
“So this is the Kremlin?” she remarked, her eyes examining the exposed pipes in the walls around her. “It certainly isn’t Avengers Mansion, or one of Stark’s penthouses.”
“We don’t have much, but we’re still building the bridges. Russia is still a place in turmoil, and we still have a lot to restore before our work is done,” Vazhin informed her while he approached from behind.
Natasha smiled. “Luckily, I will be here to help you continue that work.”
“Fury has...”
“...every right to intervene, considering the lack of progress that has been made? Yes, I agree. If it weren’t for Fury and the agents of SHEILD this country would still be on its knees.”
“Progress has been made, Romanova.”
“Not nearly enough. You have a base, albeit a limited space, and you have a competent staff of technicians and agents that remain untrained in the battle readiness that is expected of the Special Forces, even in the black ops. We save lives, Vazhin; pennies cannot be spared.”
Natasha was firm, she had to be. This was a national crisis, and under the procedures of SHEILD, she would no longer allow her country to remain fallen. It was time that Mother Russia regained its place of honour as a democratic and just politically ally to the European countries that it surrounded.
“The Kremlin will be torn over the coals, and it will become what you presented it to be. I want a team to be battle ready for the end of the week, pull out all the stops.”
Vazhin groaned. “That leaves the schedule a bit tight.”
“This should have already been handled,” Natasha pointed out to him, her face as stern and tense as ever. “Now, I’ll leave you too your thoughts. I have an old friend I need to see.”
Vazhin watched as the red haired woman made her exit. She was beautiful but there was a darker side to the woman he had known and now she was asking him to send the same darkness onto others.
Black Widow’s interference would not go unpunished in the long run.
The Next Day
Moscow Central Intelligence
Moscow, Russia
“I am so very glad that you made the time for me this morning to showcase what I believe we have to offer.”
Field Marshal Kragov, a highly renowned man both in and out of the battle zone, had taken the role as Governor of the Armed Forces since President Bullski’s elected presidency began. It was a new time for both men and they were feeling pressure to perform under the roles that had now become theirs. Kragov was a man who spoke with great charisma and unbending confidence, when he spoke people listened although they normally disagreed with what he had to say.
With the death of Zolnerwich, the Vice President, there had never been a more crucial time for the newly elected Democratic government to assure the people of Russia that they were safe, and that their leaders were in control.
Kragov had a good relationship with the new secret services, the Kremlin, but he felt that they needed something more.
“This had better be worth it,” warned Bullski with more aggression than he could ever feel. He only felt fear, especially since so many had died already.
“A waste of time if you ask me,” groaned Rasputin, his eyes rolling as they went deeper and deeper below the ground, following the course of the cascading stairwell.
“You would be better to hold your reservations until you saw the product, Edgar,” voiced the mother of the cabinet, Mikhaylovna.
“Thank you Mademoiselle,” Kragov grinned at the elderly woman from beneath his bristly, sandy moustache.
Leading the way down the winding staircase, Kragov continued to hope that he would wow his comrades, and to allow for him to add his own personal decisions to alter the future in the rebuilding of Russia. To Kragov, this was about harnessing the past not about destroying it.
Entering the room, there was an array of bright green lights from the machines. It was the hub of Federal Intelligence within Russia, and it was the birthplace of his plan. Three figures stood in a straight line facing them as they entered.
“What is the meaning of this?” ranted Rasputin. “Soldiers? We came all this way too see soldiers?”
“Exactly,” he smiled.
Kragov then turned to approach the soldiers from his regiment that he had gathered.
As he came to a stop beside the largest and most domineering of the soldiers, he turned to face his political comrades.
“This is Major Mikhail Ursus.”
Mikhail was a man of great height and musculature; he was not a physically attractive man but he did demand the attention of all those who had entered the room. There was intensity in his eyes that they all found unbearable, particularly Rasputin. Standing in his training uniform, cargo pants and a white vest-top, Mikhail looked grim and collected, everything about his body was poised and précised.
“And here we have Lieutenant Anton Shostakov.”
Anton was more attractive than his senior; he was a pretty boy, but he held his own under Mikhail’s demeaning gaze. Muscles defined his body, but he was a light weight compared to both Mikhail and the Field Marshal Kragov. He didn’t demand the attention, but he didn’t shy away from it either, and he embraced what he was given. There had often been times when Anton had fought for people to notice his exceptional skill as a leader and as a soldier, but he still remained unrewarded, and it left him bitter.
“Finally, and completing the trio, we have the Second-Lieutenant Sasha Prikhodko.”
Sasha was a slender and somewhat dainty woman; her eyes were narrow and a bright green that had immediately mesmerised the President Bullski. Her shoulder-length auburn hair was pulled back from her face, and she wore similar clothing to her comrades. It was hard to see how she could survive as a soldier but most people failed to notice her strength or her determination.
“Gentleman,” he smiled broadly at them. “And lady. May I present to you three very special soldiers that I have had the honour of mentoring and of observing...”
“What makes them ‘special’?” Rasputin interrupted.
“I hate to admit it, but I fail to see where you’re going with this, Field Marshal,” conceded Mikhaylovna.
Bullski was silent, but Kragov could almost see the cogs turning in his brain.
“Where I’m going with this? That’s simple.” Kragov came across as more patronising than he had intended to be. “America has the Avengers, and Canada has Alpha Flight. Hell, even China has the China Force.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” enquired Bullski.
“Russia needs defenders that can handle any difficulty that may arise and...”
“Superhuman teams such as the Superhuman Soviet Soldiers were a barbaric and distinctly communist regime, Kragov,” Mikhaylovna interjected. “We promised a future away from that.”
“This isn’t a policing force, well, not policing standard politics. This is a team that can handle those threats that contemporary law enforcement cannot. The Kremlin is already in agreement that this is a suitable path for the presidency to take. We’ll be staying clear of names with ‘soviet’ in them; this will be the Winter Guard.”
There was silence as Bullski considered the proposal, and while Mikhaylovna thought of a rebuttal. Unsurprisingly it was Rasputin who broke the silence.
“What do they do?”
“What?” Kragov replied, caught off guard.
“You said that they were special, I assume that means they’re superhuman. What do they do?” Rasputin repeated.
Regaining his composure Kragov returned his attention to his soldiers. “Mikhail has been in the spotlight of heroism before and not just as a soldier. Mikhail is Ursa Major, the humanoid bear that has previously served this country both inside and outside of its communist regime but now he has chosen to push this country from the ashes into a new Democratic society.”
“An impressive past, Mr Ursus...may I ask why you turned from communism?” Mikhaylovna tested him.
Mikhail waited for Kragov to acknowledge the question before he answered. “I have fought long and hard for this country, but my only concern is whether this country will thrive. I watched too many people die, some of them close friends, and I will not sit back and watch as children botch up this mission. Shostakov and Prikhodko may look pretty on television, but I’m a grafter and I’m turning my trade to democracy because it’s what’s best for Russia.”
“Good answer,” Bullski commented.
“The boy?” indicated Rasputin.
“Anton is a ‘super soldier’, in fact; he was created with the serum to become the next Red Guardian before the scheme was abolished. All of his human capabilities have been expanded to superhuman levels; he is stronger, faster and more durable than a normal human being.”
“Meaning he’s a liability,” muttered Rasputin.
“Not necessarily,” Bullski defended him. “You’d die for this country, boy?”
“Yes, sir,” Anton replied earnestly.
“What more do you want from him?” snapped Bullski at Rasputin before turning to Kragov. “And now for Ms Prikhodko.”
“Sasha has access to the ‘Darkforce’ dimension, it allows her to create solid constructs and fly. She gained her abilities from a locket that she was given by her mother, the locket itself is apparently created in the Darkforce dimension and tests have shown that it’s indestructible.”
“Quite a troupe you have there, Kragov,” said Mikhaylovna.
Smiling devilishly, Kragov replied. “So, comrades, do we have a deal?”
Moscow State Penitentiary
Moscow, Russia
“Thirty minutes,” yelled the guard as he allowed the visitors into the large room.
Vazhin looked smug as he approached the woman; he looked sleek in his black suit with a white shirt. He was always dressed as a businessman and to him this was just another business deal that needed to be accomplished. Vazhin had grown used to winning since becoming the Director of Kremlin; he was secure in his ability to lead.
“Ms Tsarkova,” he drawled. “It’s been awhile hasn’t it?”
“Six months, nine days and seven hours,” replied the woman as she rose from her seat. “But who’s counting?”
Vazhin reached for the young woman’s hand, but she returned to her seat instead. Her beauty was astounding, he found it such a waste that he had locked Erina Tsarkova behind bars, but then again, he had never taken rejection lightly. When he had first become the Director, he had approached Erina with a proposition: that she would return to active service or he would treat her as a defector and when she had rejected to return to the warzone that had always been her life, she had been arrested and jailed.
Their relationship had been somewhat tense since then.
“I said it then and I say it now, my answer will remain a solid no,” Erina sounded definitive.
Vazhin had hoped that the time in jail would have softened her attitude, but it hadn’t seemed to have worked. Of course there were other former Russian superheroes that he could have called upon, but Erina had already been through the communist war when she had no faith in the cause and she was a democratic campaigner before her arrest, he had made sense to recruit her. A powerful mutant, she was everything he needed as an asset to his team.
“Look, Russia is a dangerous place and the frontlines are closing in around us,” explained Vazhin calmly. “With your powers of the occult and sorcery, it makes sense that we have you on our side. We need you.”
“I’m sure there are other sorcerers and sorceresses that can be hired to replace me,” Erina demanded of him. “Get one of them and let me go.”
“Like I said back then, it would be difficult to find someone with the training and experience that you have, or even the mastery over their abilities. Tsarkova, one mission?”
Erina’s eyes widened as she looked up at him.
Smirking she replied. “So the terms have changed? You are desperate.”
“All I ask is that we have you onside for one mission, to save the democratic cabinet that you elected,” Vazhin said with a wry smile.
She crossed her arms, silently considering his offer.
“So can I count you in, Fantasia?”
Erina Tsarkova smiled at him.
Moscow, Russia
He had always been alone; he had made a life for himself as the lone wolf. Even during his time with the Soviet Super Soldiers and the Winter Guard, he had never felt truly at home. Nikolai Krylenko was a man of steel-will but in recent years he had lost contact with those who mattered, his former best friend Mikhail Ursus and his twin sister, Laynia Petrovna. They had always been his reason fighting the good fight and now they had moved on.
Vanguard felt abandoned.
Brutish and hulking, the blond haired Vanguard watched over his city. He was a vigilante now, he didn’t answer to anyone but himself. The media had compared him to a Russian Daredevil, and it wasn’t a bad comparison. He was searching for the truth of his father.
Kneeling in his armoured uniform of different hues of grey, he bore a metallic breastplate patterned with the sickle and hammer. He would always be a communist, and perhaps that was his problem with the ‘new Russia’. He still supported the communist ideals, but his love for his country was more overpowering and he was willing to allow her to move on and become a better society in the eyes of Europe and America, those who still didn’t trust her.
“As a secret-agent I expected a bit more stealth from you,” he said to the figure that appeared behind him.
“It wasn’t my aim to sneak up on you, old friend,” smiled the brightened face of Natasha Romanova, the Black Widow.
Vanguard merely grunted in response.
“How are you?” she enquired in a tone that she reserved for those who had once meant something to her. “And Darkstar?”
“I’m surviving, Widow, it’s what I do,” he replied, clearly agitated with the topic. “As for my sister? I haven’t seen or heard of her in a year.”
“It’s horrible when we lose the ones we...”
“We parted on bad terms, all of us. Perhaps it was my firm communist views.”
Black Widow seemed taken aback, but she continued. “That’s peculiar. I seem to remember a time when you attempted to defect from communist Russia to Avenger Island.”
“Those were hard times, the regime and the troubles were in full motion. I was weak, but I grew and now I am stronger than my father ever could have imagined,” Vanguard replied to her accusation.
“Laynia didn’t share this view? Or Mikhail?”
“They’re gone,” he snapped. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to give you the opportunity to get your life back,” she said to him soothingly. “Kremlin is creating a superhuman law enforcement team, similar to the Avengers only with a more black ops capability, I ask that you consider my being here as an invitation to join us, and to win back the family and the friends that you lost.”
“I was once told never to fight a war I didn’t believe in,” Vanguard replied to the woman.
“Then just fight for Russia’s survival,” Black Widow countered his argument. “Is that not what you do?”
Vanguard glared at her, hating her for her spin on his logic.
Kremlin D.F.
Moscow, Russia
“So,” Vazhin smiled as he approached them. “This is my Winter Guard.”
Kragov entered the room; he was followed swiftly by Bullski, Rasputin and Mikhaylovna as they looked towards the six individuals standing in front of them, the heroes that would represent their country through better and worse. It surprised them that the majority were so young, this was a new generation with new ideals and they had the power to harness it.
“Let me introduce you to them.”
Vazhin moved towards the heroes as the dignitaries froze in place to watch.
“Natasha Romanova, the Black Widow, and our leader.”
Natasha stood in her newly created uniform; it was a play on the one she had worn for so long. A one-piece black, shoulder-less and sleeveless cat suit accompanied with grey boots and a grey jacket. Her costume had numerous tiny compartments for the tools that she had used for the numerous years of her service. Her face was placid, she presented an heir of leadership and experience, and she was perhaps the most capable and well trained of the heroes.
“Nikolai Krylenko, codename Vanguard.”
A hulking man, Nikolai was easily the least eager to be in the situation. He refrained himself from making eye contact with anyone, especially the Democratic politicians that had come to see them paraded by Vazhin, as if they were nothing more than a zoo. Vanguard had already decided that he would do his time and he would prove to those that he wanted them in his life, but he was still conflicted when he saw that his sister, Darkstar, who had done so much for the Democratic Party of Russia had not been recruited as its hero.
“Major Mikhail Ursus, codename Ursa Major.”
Mikhail had been out of the superhero business too long to feel entirely comfortable in the uniform he had been given. A red cat suit with black shoulder blades and red gloves, he had been informed that it would allow for an easy transition into his humanoid bear form, but he was still unsure of how he looked. Mikhail, the moustached brute, had never been conscious over his appearance, but now he was left wondering if he would regret going back into service in the public eye, he was long out of practice.
“Erina Tsarkova, codename Fantasia.”
Erina had opted for dull colours on her costume. She wore a black cat suit similar to the Black Widow’s but she wore a grey skirt opposed to a jacket. Unlike some of the younger heroes, of which the twenty three year old was categorised, she was bored and polishing the firearm she had been given by Vazhin, something he had immediately come to regret when she threatened to shoot him in the crotch. Her make-up was dark, and her expression was sinister but masked by her folds of brown hair.
“Lieutenant Anton Shostakov, codename the Red Guardian.”
The pretty boy Anton was excited, he had only ever seen straight up combat but now he would be allowed to experience the use of not only his powers but those around him and some of them looked threatening, especially the hulking blond man and a the gun-toting brunette. Anton wore a sleeveless top that reminded him slightly of ‘Star Trek’ but he didn’t mind, the brunette man had a full face mask that left only his mouth and goatee visible. Pulling his gloves tighter around his hands he stood buzzing, which was different to the others who seemed so serious.
“Second-Lieutenant Sasha Prikhodko, codename Starshine.”
Sasha was cold, she hadn’t considered the temperature in Russia when she had designed her own uniform which consisted of a grey leotard with a black belt and a black elbow-length jacket and her grey knee-high boots were all that insulated her legs. Her messy auburn hair fell around her face, she had found that the life of a hero allowed more leeway in appearance than the life of a soldier, and she would admit that she may have went a little too far with her costume, but she smiled as the dignitaries looked at her and placed her hand on her hip.
“Those are the new heroes of the Winter Guard.”
“Thank you Vazhin,” President Bullski concluded. “Now, I would like a few words with you all as your President. Some of you have been heroes before, and to others this is new, I would like to thank you on behalf of myself and on behalf of Russia for the sacrifices you will make in your incoming missions and I hope that we will talk more frequently to congratulate you on jobs well done. Thank you.”
Kragov, Bullski, Rasputin and Mikhaylovna all turned to leave the base; Vazhin then took center stage as he prepared to brief the team on the mission at hand.
“We need to capture and detain the woman in this photograph,” Vazhin handed the photograph to them; it had been taken from the CCTV in Zolnerwich’s house prior to his murder. “Intel has told us that she is Yelena Belova, a failed experiment of the Black Widow programme with amoral views and a high rate of mental instability. She’s a mercenary for hire, and we need to find her. As a side note, there is reason to believe that she was last seen in Siberia when she abducted a former Soviet Super Soldier from his home a few days ago. Black Widow, as the leader of this team, I’ll leave the finer details to you.”
Underground Cavern
Siberia, Russia
He growled at her as she returned.
“Calm down little kitty,” she smirked at him through the bars before she made her way towards the telecommunications device.
Illich Lavrov had been a hero, and now he was the victim. ‘Sibercat’ as he was known back when he had been in the Winter Guard had been abducted from his home in Siberia five days ago by the blonde woman whom was called the Black Widow. A yellow furred, feline mutate he had often faced discrimination but he had been tricked and seduced by this woman in a bar, taking her home would be the biggest mistake he had ever made or was likely to make. Illich now knew the dangers of these women.
“You are just a pawn in my employers’ game,” she cooed at him nastily.
“Don’t forget, you’re also just a pawn,” Illich hissed back at her.
Taken aback, Yelena stepped away from the cage and began to signal on the phone, she moved to another room in the underground cavern to stop Illich’s prying ears from picking up any information like he had the last time.
Leaning with his furry back against the wall, he dropped his head so that his chin rested against his chest. He had given up any hope he had held for survival.
Outside
Kremlin D.F.
Moscow, Russia
She watched as the six heroes filed out onto the courtyard of the base of Russia’s secret agents, the snow blew her long blonde hair around her face and her bright blue eyes dazzled in the light of the moon. It was dark now, but she could see them all as clearly as the moon. Reaching into her red jacket for her cell phone she opened a text message from her employer.
THE TIME IS NOW, DARKSTAR
Laynia Petrovna looked through her eyes as the heroes that had come together to save the country that she had helped build, and even defected from, but in her heart she always returned to where she considered herself at home and that was in Russia. A stunningly beautiful woman, she watched over them like a guiding angel. For the few months she had been following her brother, and keeping an eye on his activities. In her absence she was different, stronger and fiercer.
Standing in her red elbow-length jacket and red skirt, that fluttered around her legs in the win, her black top that covered her neck was emblazoned with a red star, and her thigh high boots were all that kept her body from becoming frozen in her skimpy uniform but she had been long absent from the field but her employer now knew that it was important for her to return to the life she had left behind for him.
Playfully closing her eyes, Laynia leaped off the roof towards the ground.
To Be Continued...
Next Issue: In Winter Guard #2: It’s Black Widow vs. Black Widow! Mutants are dying all across Moscow and three members of the Winter Guard are sent to stop it, but can they succeed?
Previous Issue | Next Issue
Kremlin D.F
Moscow, Russia
“Black Widow.”
The voice that greeted her was not unfamiliar; she had met Vazhin on one of the many occasions that she was an operative of the American SHEILD, a pre-emptive strike against terrorism through the means of espionage at which Natasha Romanova was adept. For the last month, dignitaries in the new democratic movement in Russia’s hierarchy had been dropping like flies and Nicholas Fury wasn’t happy about the lack of progress that was being made. When it came to high priority missions Fury made no secret that his first choice would always be Captain America and his Avengers, but when the time called for a covert operative, the Black Widow was always the first choice.
A fact that Vazhin was all too aware of.
Svelte and beautiful, Natasha was as picturesque as a model or an actress but there was something far more dangerous in the depths of those green eyes; she was a woman who had been jaded and betrayed on far too many occasions to ever fully allow her to trust anyone.
The Avengers had offered her membership, but she had refused. In the recent years, she had become something of a lone wolf. She hunted alone; it was how she had survived and how she had always survived. Having been the creation of the communist regime, she knew it intimately from the inside out and she was well aware of where to look. She was the greatest asset he could receive, even if he found Fury’s intrusion into Russia’s boundaries unwelcome.
“So this is the Kremlin?” she remarked, her eyes examining the exposed pipes in the walls around her. “It certainly isn’t Avengers Mansion, or one of Stark’s penthouses.”
“We don’t have much, but we’re still building the bridges. Russia is still a place in turmoil, and we still have a lot to restore before our work is done,” Vazhin informed her while he approached from behind.
Natasha smiled. “Luckily, I will be here to help you continue that work.”
“Fury has...”
“...every right to intervene, considering the lack of progress that has been made? Yes, I agree. If it weren’t for Fury and the agents of SHEILD this country would still be on its knees.”
“Progress has been made, Romanova.”
“Not nearly enough. You have a base, albeit a limited space, and you have a competent staff of technicians and agents that remain untrained in the battle readiness that is expected of the Special Forces, even in the black ops. We save lives, Vazhin; pennies cannot be spared.”
Natasha was firm, she had to be. This was a national crisis, and under the procedures of SHEILD, she would no longer allow her country to remain fallen. It was time that Mother Russia regained its place of honour as a democratic and just politically ally to the European countries that it surrounded.
“The Kremlin will be torn over the coals, and it will become what you presented it to be. I want a team to be battle ready for the end of the week, pull out all the stops.”
Vazhin groaned. “That leaves the schedule a bit tight.”
“This should have already been handled,” Natasha pointed out to him, her face as stern and tense as ever. “Now, I’ll leave you too your thoughts. I have an old friend I need to see.”
Vazhin watched as the red haired woman made her exit. She was beautiful but there was a darker side to the woman he had known and now she was asking him to send the same darkness onto others.
Black Widow’s interference would not go unpunished in the long run.
The Next Day
Moscow Central Intelligence
Moscow, Russia
“I am so very glad that you made the time for me this morning to showcase what I believe we have to offer.”
Field Marshal Kragov, a highly renowned man both in and out of the battle zone, had taken the role as Governor of the Armed Forces since President Bullski’s elected presidency began. It was a new time for both men and they were feeling pressure to perform under the roles that had now become theirs. Kragov was a man who spoke with great charisma and unbending confidence, when he spoke people listened although they normally disagreed with what he had to say.
With the death of Zolnerwich, the Vice President, there had never been a more crucial time for the newly elected Democratic government to assure the people of Russia that they were safe, and that their leaders were in control.
Kragov had a good relationship with the new secret services, the Kremlin, but he felt that they needed something more.
“This had better be worth it,” warned Bullski with more aggression than he could ever feel. He only felt fear, especially since so many had died already.
“A waste of time if you ask me,” groaned Rasputin, his eyes rolling as they went deeper and deeper below the ground, following the course of the cascading stairwell.
“You would be better to hold your reservations until you saw the product, Edgar,” voiced the mother of the cabinet, Mikhaylovna.
“Thank you Mademoiselle,” Kragov grinned at the elderly woman from beneath his bristly, sandy moustache.
Leading the way down the winding staircase, Kragov continued to hope that he would wow his comrades, and to allow for him to add his own personal decisions to alter the future in the rebuilding of Russia. To Kragov, this was about harnessing the past not about destroying it.
Entering the room, there was an array of bright green lights from the machines. It was the hub of Federal Intelligence within Russia, and it was the birthplace of his plan. Three figures stood in a straight line facing them as they entered.
“What is the meaning of this?” ranted Rasputin. “Soldiers? We came all this way too see soldiers?”
“Exactly,” he smiled.
Kragov then turned to approach the soldiers from his regiment that he had gathered.
As he came to a stop beside the largest and most domineering of the soldiers, he turned to face his political comrades.
“This is Major Mikhail Ursus.”
Mikhail was a man of great height and musculature; he was not a physically attractive man but he did demand the attention of all those who had entered the room. There was intensity in his eyes that they all found unbearable, particularly Rasputin. Standing in his training uniform, cargo pants and a white vest-top, Mikhail looked grim and collected, everything about his body was poised and précised.
“And here we have Lieutenant Anton Shostakov.”
Anton was more attractive than his senior; he was a pretty boy, but he held his own under Mikhail’s demeaning gaze. Muscles defined his body, but he was a light weight compared to both Mikhail and the Field Marshal Kragov. He didn’t demand the attention, but he didn’t shy away from it either, and he embraced what he was given. There had often been times when Anton had fought for people to notice his exceptional skill as a leader and as a soldier, but he still remained unrewarded, and it left him bitter.
“Finally, and completing the trio, we have the Second-Lieutenant Sasha Prikhodko.”
Sasha was a slender and somewhat dainty woman; her eyes were narrow and a bright green that had immediately mesmerised the President Bullski. Her shoulder-length auburn hair was pulled back from her face, and she wore similar clothing to her comrades. It was hard to see how she could survive as a soldier but most people failed to notice her strength or her determination.
“Gentleman,” he smiled broadly at them. “And lady. May I present to you three very special soldiers that I have had the honour of mentoring and of observing...”
“What makes them ‘special’?” Rasputin interrupted.
“I hate to admit it, but I fail to see where you’re going with this, Field Marshal,” conceded Mikhaylovna.
Bullski was silent, but Kragov could almost see the cogs turning in his brain.
“Where I’m going with this? That’s simple.” Kragov came across as more patronising than he had intended to be. “America has the Avengers, and Canada has Alpha Flight. Hell, even China has the China Force.”
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” enquired Bullski.
“Russia needs defenders that can handle any difficulty that may arise and...”
“Superhuman teams such as the Superhuman Soviet Soldiers were a barbaric and distinctly communist regime, Kragov,” Mikhaylovna interjected. “We promised a future away from that.”
“This isn’t a policing force, well, not policing standard politics. This is a team that can handle those threats that contemporary law enforcement cannot. The Kremlin is already in agreement that this is a suitable path for the presidency to take. We’ll be staying clear of names with ‘soviet’ in them; this will be the Winter Guard.”
There was silence as Bullski considered the proposal, and while Mikhaylovna thought of a rebuttal. Unsurprisingly it was Rasputin who broke the silence.
“What do they do?”
“What?” Kragov replied, caught off guard.
“You said that they were special, I assume that means they’re superhuman. What do they do?” Rasputin repeated.
Regaining his composure Kragov returned his attention to his soldiers. “Mikhail has been in the spotlight of heroism before and not just as a soldier. Mikhail is Ursa Major, the humanoid bear that has previously served this country both inside and outside of its communist regime but now he has chosen to push this country from the ashes into a new Democratic society.”
“An impressive past, Mr Ursus...may I ask why you turned from communism?” Mikhaylovna tested him.
Mikhail waited for Kragov to acknowledge the question before he answered. “I have fought long and hard for this country, but my only concern is whether this country will thrive. I watched too many people die, some of them close friends, and I will not sit back and watch as children botch up this mission. Shostakov and Prikhodko may look pretty on television, but I’m a grafter and I’m turning my trade to democracy because it’s what’s best for Russia.”
“Good answer,” Bullski commented.
“The boy?” indicated Rasputin.
“Anton is a ‘super soldier’, in fact; he was created with the serum to become the next Red Guardian before the scheme was abolished. All of his human capabilities have been expanded to superhuman levels; he is stronger, faster and more durable than a normal human being.”
“Meaning he’s a liability,” muttered Rasputin.
“Not necessarily,” Bullski defended him. “You’d die for this country, boy?”
“Yes, sir,” Anton replied earnestly.
“What more do you want from him?” snapped Bullski at Rasputin before turning to Kragov. “And now for Ms Prikhodko.”
“Sasha has access to the ‘Darkforce’ dimension, it allows her to create solid constructs and fly. She gained her abilities from a locket that she was given by her mother, the locket itself is apparently created in the Darkforce dimension and tests have shown that it’s indestructible.”
“Quite a troupe you have there, Kragov,” said Mikhaylovna.
Smiling devilishly, Kragov replied. “So, comrades, do we have a deal?”
Moscow State Penitentiary
Moscow, Russia
“Thirty minutes,” yelled the guard as he allowed the visitors into the large room.
Vazhin looked smug as he approached the woman; he looked sleek in his black suit with a white shirt. He was always dressed as a businessman and to him this was just another business deal that needed to be accomplished. Vazhin had grown used to winning since becoming the Director of Kremlin; he was secure in his ability to lead.
“Ms Tsarkova,” he drawled. “It’s been awhile hasn’t it?”
“Six months, nine days and seven hours,” replied the woman as she rose from her seat. “But who’s counting?”
Vazhin reached for the young woman’s hand, but she returned to her seat instead. Her beauty was astounding, he found it such a waste that he had locked Erina Tsarkova behind bars, but then again, he had never taken rejection lightly. When he had first become the Director, he had approached Erina with a proposition: that she would return to active service or he would treat her as a defector and when she had rejected to return to the warzone that had always been her life, she had been arrested and jailed.
Their relationship had been somewhat tense since then.
“I said it then and I say it now, my answer will remain a solid no,” Erina sounded definitive.
Vazhin had hoped that the time in jail would have softened her attitude, but it hadn’t seemed to have worked. Of course there were other former Russian superheroes that he could have called upon, but Erina had already been through the communist war when she had no faith in the cause and she was a democratic campaigner before her arrest, he had made sense to recruit her. A powerful mutant, she was everything he needed as an asset to his team.
“Look, Russia is a dangerous place and the frontlines are closing in around us,” explained Vazhin calmly. “With your powers of the occult and sorcery, it makes sense that we have you on our side. We need you.”
“I’m sure there are other sorcerers and sorceresses that can be hired to replace me,” Erina demanded of him. “Get one of them and let me go.”
“Like I said back then, it would be difficult to find someone with the training and experience that you have, or even the mastery over their abilities. Tsarkova, one mission?”
Erina’s eyes widened as she looked up at him.
Smirking she replied. “So the terms have changed? You are desperate.”
“All I ask is that we have you onside for one mission, to save the democratic cabinet that you elected,” Vazhin said with a wry smile.
She crossed her arms, silently considering his offer.
“So can I count you in, Fantasia?”
Erina Tsarkova smiled at him.
Moscow, Russia
He had always been alone; he had made a life for himself as the lone wolf. Even during his time with the Soviet Super Soldiers and the Winter Guard, he had never felt truly at home. Nikolai Krylenko was a man of steel-will but in recent years he had lost contact with those who mattered, his former best friend Mikhail Ursus and his twin sister, Laynia Petrovna. They had always been his reason fighting the good fight and now they had moved on.
Vanguard felt abandoned.
Brutish and hulking, the blond haired Vanguard watched over his city. He was a vigilante now, he didn’t answer to anyone but himself. The media had compared him to a Russian Daredevil, and it wasn’t a bad comparison. He was searching for the truth of his father.
Kneeling in his armoured uniform of different hues of grey, he bore a metallic breastplate patterned with the sickle and hammer. He would always be a communist, and perhaps that was his problem with the ‘new Russia’. He still supported the communist ideals, but his love for his country was more overpowering and he was willing to allow her to move on and become a better society in the eyes of Europe and America, those who still didn’t trust her.
“As a secret-agent I expected a bit more stealth from you,” he said to the figure that appeared behind him.
“It wasn’t my aim to sneak up on you, old friend,” smiled the brightened face of Natasha Romanova, the Black Widow.
Vanguard merely grunted in response.
“How are you?” she enquired in a tone that she reserved for those who had once meant something to her. “And Darkstar?”
“I’m surviving, Widow, it’s what I do,” he replied, clearly agitated with the topic. “As for my sister? I haven’t seen or heard of her in a year.”
“It’s horrible when we lose the ones we...”
“We parted on bad terms, all of us. Perhaps it was my firm communist views.”
Black Widow seemed taken aback, but she continued. “That’s peculiar. I seem to remember a time when you attempted to defect from communist Russia to Avenger Island.”
“Those were hard times, the regime and the troubles were in full motion. I was weak, but I grew and now I am stronger than my father ever could have imagined,” Vanguard replied to her accusation.
“Laynia didn’t share this view? Or Mikhail?”
“They’re gone,” he snapped. “Why are you here?”
“I’m here to give you the opportunity to get your life back,” she said to him soothingly. “Kremlin is creating a superhuman law enforcement team, similar to the Avengers only with a more black ops capability, I ask that you consider my being here as an invitation to join us, and to win back the family and the friends that you lost.”
“I was once told never to fight a war I didn’t believe in,” Vanguard replied to the woman.
“Then just fight for Russia’s survival,” Black Widow countered his argument. “Is that not what you do?”
Vanguard glared at her, hating her for her spin on his logic.
Kremlin D.F.
Moscow, Russia
“So,” Vazhin smiled as he approached them. “This is my Winter Guard.”
Kragov entered the room; he was followed swiftly by Bullski, Rasputin and Mikhaylovna as they looked towards the six individuals standing in front of them, the heroes that would represent their country through better and worse. It surprised them that the majority were so young, this was a new generation with new ideals and they had the power to harness it.
“Let me introduce you to them.”
Vazhin moved towards the heroes as the dignitaries froze in place to watch.
“Natasha Romanova, the Black Widow, and our leader.”
Natasha stood in her newly created uniform; it was a play on the one she had worn for so long. A one-piece black, shoulder-less and sleeveless cat suit accompanied with grey boots and a grey jacket. Her costume had numerous tiny compartments for the tools that she had used for the numerous years of her service. Her face was placid, she presented an heir of leadership and experience, and she was perhaps the most capable and well trained of the heroes.
“Nikolai Krylenko, codename Vanguard.”
A hulking man, Nikolai was easily the least eager to be in the situation. He refrained himself from making eye contact with anyone, especially the Democratic politicians that had come to see them paraded by Vazhin, as if they were nothing more than a zoo. Vanguard had already decided that he would do his time and he would prove to those that he wanted them in his life, but he was still conflicted when he saw that his sister, Darkstar, who had done so much for the Democratic Party of Russia had not been recruited as its hero.
“Major Mikhail Ursus, codename Ursa Major.”
Mikhail had been out of the superhero business too long to feel entirely comfortable in the uniform he had been given. A red cat suit with black shoulder blades and red gloves, he had been informed that it would allow for an easy transition into his humanoid bear form, but he was still unsure of how he looked. Mikhail, the moustached brute, had never been conscious over his appearance, but now he was left wondering if he would regret going back into service in the public eye, he was long out of practice.
“Erina Tsarkova, codename Fantasia.”
Erina had opted for dull colours on her costume. She wore a black cat suit similar to the Black Widow’s but she wore a grey skirt opposed to a jacket. Unlike some of the younger heroes, of which the twenty three year old was categorised, she was bored and polishing the firearm she had been given by Vazhin, something he had immediately come to regret when she threatened to shoot him in the crotch. Her make-up was dark, and her expression was sinister but masked by her folds of brown hair.
“Lieutenant Anton Shostakov, codename the Red Guardian.”
The pretty boy Anton was excited, he had only ever seen straight up combat but now he would be allowed to experience the use of not only his powers but those around him and some of them looked threatening, especially the hulking blond man and a the gun-toting brunette. Anton wore a sleeveless top that reminded him slightly of ‘Star Trek’ but he didn’t mind, the brunette man had a full face mask that left only his mouth and goatee visible. Pulling his gloves tighter around his hands he stood buzzing, which was different to the others who seemed so serious.
“Second-Lieutenant Sasha Prikhodko, codename Starshine.”
Sasha was cold, she hadn’t considered the temperature in Russia when she had designed her own uniform which consisted of a grey leotard with a black belt and a black elbow-length jacket and her grey knee-high boots were all that insulated her legs. Her messy auburn hair fell around her face, she had found that the life of a hero allowed more leeway in appearance than the life of a soldier, and she would admit that she may have went a little too far with her costume, but she smiled as the dignitaries looked at her and placed her hand on her hip.
“Those are the new heroes of the Winter Guard.”
“Thank you Vazhin,” President Bullski concluded. “Now, I would like a few words with you all as your President. Some of you have been heroes before, and to others this is new, I would like to thank you on behalf of myself and on behalf of Russia for the sacrifices you will make in your incoming missions and I hope that we will talk more frequently to congratulate you on jobs well done. Thank you.”
Kragov, Bullski, Rasputin and Mikhaylovna all turned to leave the base; Vazhin then took center stage as he prepared to brief the team on the mission at hand.
“We need to capture and detain the woman in this photograph,” Vazhin handed the photograph to them; it had been taken from the CCTV in Zolnerwich’s house prior to his murder. “Intel has told us that she is Yelena Belova, a failed experiment of the Black Widow programme with amoral views and a high rate of mental instability. She’s a mercenary for hire, and we need to find her. As a side note, there is reason to believe that she was last seen in Siberia when she abducted a former Soviet Super Soldier from his home a few days ago. Black Widow, as the leader of this team, I’ll leave the finer details to you.”
Underground Cavern
Siberia, Russia
He growled at her as she returned.
“Calm down little kitty,” she smirked at him through the bars before she made her way towards the telecommunications device.
Illich Lavrov had been a hero, and now he was the victim. ‘Sibercat’ as he was known back when he had been in the Winter Guard had been abducted from his home in Siberia five days ago by the blonde woman whom was called the Black Widow. A yellow furred, feline mutate he had often faced discrimination but he had been tricked and seduced by this woman in a bar, taking her home would be the biggest mistake he had ever made or was likely to make. Illich now knew the dangers of these women.
“You are just a pawn in my employers’ game,” she cooed at him nastily.
“Don’t forget, you’re also just a pawn,” Illich hissed back at her.
Taken aback, Yelena stepped away from the cage and began to signal on the phone, she moved to another room in the underground cavern to stop Illich’s prying ears from picking up any information like he had the last time.
Leaning with his furry back against the wall, he dropped his head so that his chin rested against his chest. He had given up any hope he had held for survival.
Outside
Kremlin D.F.
Moscow, Russia
She watched as the six heroes filed out onto the courtyard of the base of Russia’s secret agents, the snow blew her long blonde hair around her face and her bright blue eyes dazzled in the light of the moon. It was dark now, but she could see them all as clearly as the moon. Reaching into her red jacket for her cell phone she opened a text message from her employer.
Laynia Petrovna looked through her eyes as the heroes that had come together to save the country that she had helped build, and even defected from, but in her heart she always returned to where she considered herself at home and that was in Russia. A stunningly beautiful woman, she watched over them like a guiding angel. For the few months she had been following her brother, and keeping an eye on his activities. In her absence she was different, stronger and fiercer.
Standing in her red elbow-length jacket and red skirt, that fluttered around her legs in the win, her black top that covered her neck was emblazoned with a red star, and her thigh high boots were all that kept her body from becoming frozen in her skimpy uniform but she had been long absent from the field but her employer now knew that it was important for her to return to the life she had left behind for him.
Playfully closing her eyes, Laynia leaped off the roof towards the ground.
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To Be Continued...
Next Issue: In Winter Guard #2: It’s Black Widow vs. Black Widow! Mutants are dying all across Moscow and three members of the Winter Guard are sent to stop it, but can they succeed?
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