Somewhere along the Finland-Norway border, the Finnish Army was doing live exercises with their newly-acquired military technology from the Ruthenian Empire.
The cold breeze was blowing from all directions, snowflakes dancing along the current of the wind, and a cloud of white misty smoke was exhaled from each other's mouths.
The Commanding Officer, Major General Ralf Hietala, was overlooking the firing range where his men were firing the FN Fal battle rifle at the target dummy 200 meters away from them. All of his men struck the mark and he couldn't be more than happier for that.
"Okay, now change the target, I want you all to hit the dummy located 400 meters from your position, whenever you are ready…"
His men acknowledged the order and began shifting their aim to the new target dummy. And when they had a bead on it, they opened fire.
A simultaneous roar echoed and the sound of bullets impacting against wood filled the air. The target shook violently but didn't fall down. The target's body was completely riddled with holes, indicating that they had struck almost accurately the target.
He smiled in satisfaction, the result couldn't be better than this. He clapped his hand to gather their attention. "Okay, let's wrap this up, men, we need to be in the designated location in thirty minutes."
"Who are we meeting their General?" One of his men asked as he slung the battle rifle on his shoulder.
"You'll see when we get there," Ralf said equivocally.
His men followed the orders, stowing the extra battle rifles on the weapon's crate and hefting it to the back of the Polkan Jeep and the Utility Truck Ox. Once the materials and equipment are placed on the military vehicles, they hopped onto their respective jeeps and started driving away from the firing range.
Ralf was seated next to the driver's seat. He had a stoic expression on his face as he puffed smoke from his cigar. Despite the cold weather, there was a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. His eyes glanced at his hand and saw it shaking.
One of the men seated behind the Polkan Jeep noticed the shivering of his hand and asked.
"Sir, are you okay?"
Ralf jolted in his seat at the unexpected question. He took another puff on his cigar before putting it out.
"I'm fine," he replied gruffly, but no one believed him as they gave him a skeptical look.
"Are you sure Sir? You're shaking a bit. Are you sick or something?"
"Yes I'm quite alright, your concern is appreciated," he assured and turned his head away from the man to stare out the window.
There was silence among the group as the convoy, consisting of five Polkan Jeeps and three Utility Truck Ox, continued driving on the snowy road.
Ten minutes later, Ralf tapped the driver's arm, telling him to stop.
The driver hit the brake and looked around. "Sir, where is this? I thought we were heading to another military installation but there's nothing but snow here?"
"Did you get the map right?" The men behind him asked.
"Yeah, it says here we are at this location. There's no way I could get this wrong."
"Sir, where are we really?"
"Just don't ask, everyone, get out of their vehicle now and bring your weapons with you." Ralf dodged the question and stepped out of the vehicle.
The soldiers inside the Polkan Jeep exchanged glances at one another but complied nonetheless. They carried their weapons with them and joined their commanding officer outside the vehicle.
There was really nothing in this area other than trees with their leaves covered in white frost, snow, and ice. The only thing they can hear is the footsteps produced by their fellow comrades and the wind blowing through the forest.
Suddenly, they heard a rustling noise coming from the tree line. The men, with their heads in the game, swiveled their heads towards the direction of the disturbance with their rifles trained.
"Did you hear that?" One of the soldiers near Ralf whispered.
Ralf ignored the man's worries as he lit up another cigarette and looked at his wristwatch.
"They should be here by now," Ralf said flippantly.
"What? Who is coming here, sir?"
The moment his men asked that a thunderous roar of a gunshot reverberated in the forest. Ralf flinched at the sound as the blood of his men splattered on his face. He turned to look at him and saw his head completely blown off.
Seconds later, a series of gunfire erupted in the forest. The Finnish soldiers cried in anguish as their bodies kept getting shot at by unknown elements hidden within the snowy forest.
Ralf stood there, completely emotionless as he watched his comrades die one by one. He sighed and turned around, only to see a young soldier sitting on the ground with his back resting against the back of the Polkan Jeep.
His breathing ragged as blood continued to spurt out from his belly. "Sir, what are you doing?" the soldier asked deeply.
"Sorry son," Ralf said with a blank expression on his face as he pulled out his pistol. He aimed at his man's head.
"Sir...?" the young soldier was confused, why is his commanding officer aiming a gun at him?
But before he can realize the answer, Ralf pulled the trigger and the young soldier fell dead with his blood seeping into the snow.
After shooting his men, Ralf slowly walked over to the treeline where one of the unknown elements approached to meet him.
"Good job, Ralf. Your service to the Black Hand has been greatly appreciated," the black hand operatives wearing a black robes said.
Ralf, still holding his pistol, gazed at the masked man in front of him. "Send the Shepherd my regards."
The Black Hand operatives in the area started revealing themselves and approached the convoy.
"So these are all the military vehicles you can get your hands on? Where are the tanks and the armored vehicles?"
"Getting the military vehicles that you are asking for is beyond my clearance. These are the only things I can provide," Ralf explained as he pointed at the Polkan and the Utility Truck Ox.
The masked man sounded disappointed in Ralf's voice. "Is that so? Then it can't be helped, we can still settle for these vehicles."
The masked man walked over to the Polkan Jeep and Ralf followed behind him.
The masked man removed his winter gloves and brushed his hand onto the smooth surface of the Polkan Jeep.
"I have also brought the standard-issue rifle of the Ruthenian Empire with me. I must say, those weapons are the best. It can make the bolt-action rifle, which most countries use as their service weapon, obsolete."
The masked man grabbed the rifle he is talking about from one of the fallen soldiers on the ground. He inspected the weapon thoroughly.
"So this weapon was the reason why the Yamato lost in the war against the Ruthenian Empire, huh?"
"That and along with the tanks, armored vehicles, and helicopters, cargo aircraft, and fighter aircraft."
"Is there a way for you to acquire those?" the masked man asked.
Ralf shook his head. "I'm afraid that's impossible. You have to approach another guy for that."
"I see," the masked man nodded understandingly. "Very well, since you have completed the task that we assigned to you, here is your reward," he beckoned one of his men to come over.
Another Black Hand operative handed Ralf a thick envelope.
Ralf inspected the envelope and saw a lot of money in it. "Thank you. One last thing, I will have to come with you. If I return with them without my men and the vehicles, they'll think I colluded with you, which I did, and arrest me on the spot for treason. I will not be able to enjoy this money if that were to happen."
"I don't see any problem with it," the masked man accepted. "If there's nothing, we should go."
The Black Hands operatives boarded the military vehicles and drove away, leaving only the lifeless Finnish soldiers lying around the clearing.
