Pavel reminisced about the mi-24s his unit used to use, that was a magnificent helicopter. Expertly made by the Soviet people, the small airplane he rode in now was nothing like that. It jostled every few seconds and the local pilot was likely drunk. He arrived at the small bush airport. The small dirt landing strip was located in the African nation looked inconsequential. It was, the three vehicles already present were local communist military. The KGB agent walked over to the major who was there to greet him. "Hello captain." That was his 'cover', a spetsnaz captain, not so far from his current position as a major. "Hello major, how goes the war." "Eh, not so good. The rebels are being supplied and supported by the west. New weapons and the like." "That is why I am here comrade, the Kremlin is tired of the west propping up the floundering counterrevolution." The pair walked to the major's car and drove to a remote location. Pavel looked over the files he and his countrymen had collected. That's when he started to feel...funny. He looked at the major with contempt, he knew he'd been drugged. "I'm sorry 'comrade' but you've become quite a nuisance to my friends, and no not the Americans. They are just as clueless as you." The Russian began to fade into unconsciousness but he still reached for his makorov. The major punched him in the face and fought with him over the pistol. Normally the Russian would have won that fight, but drugged he was weakened. Eventually he lost consciousness and when he awoke he was alone, in a cell, without his gear. [spoiler]open[/spoiler]