Prey World - Counterrevolution

On the next day, Frank Kohlhaas knew what the Varangian Guard was. Artur Tschistokjow and Peter Ulljewski had build up this elite unit of the Volksarmee a few weeks ago. It consisted of 1000 men. The best and most fanatical fighters from Belarus and the Baltic countries had been combined in it and now Frank should lead them.

  The men had gathered in rank and file on the courtyard of the main barracks in Minsk and were waiting for him. Early in the morning, a jeep had brought Kohlhaas to his new unit. The General jumped out of the vehicle and looked at his soldiers with a broad smile.

  Many of them knew him, because they had already fought under his command in the trooper units of the freedom movement. The tall soldiers smiled back and stood at attention.

  ”Ja priwjestowaju wasch, Soldati!”, shouted Frank.

  “Mej priwjestowajem wij, General Gollchaas!”, answered the Varagians.

  Frank grinned. “Chorochow!”

  A little later, the general and his men hit the road and drove to Pskov, a Russian town near the Latvian border, where they were already awaited by a huge mass of Rus.

  Artur Tschistokjow led to the growing crowd to the municipal building. Thousands of people followed him and after a few hours, over 30000 men and women had gathered in the city center.

  Frank's troopers came on trucks and put some groups of armed collectivists to rout. Near the city center, the Varangians were attacked by CLJ men again, who had lied in wait in the streets.

  They stopped immediately and fired back. After a few minutes, the collectivists ran away and fled right into the arms of the Varagians on the following trucks, who mowed them down with their assault rifles.

  The local police officers were totally overwhelmed with a sudden strike like this and had apparently no desire to fight against Tschistokjow`s armed units. So the police station of the city was occupied without any problems and the surprised officers were disarmed. Finally, Tschistokjow walked under the loud cheers of his supporters into the town hall and announced the liberation of the city.

  All localities between Pskov and Velikie Luki were simultaneously occupied by the Rus and Peter Ulljewski`s DSR units immediately began to arrest and liquidate the collectivist leaders in this region.

  In contrast, Velikie Luki had become a place of chaos and anarchy. Some CLJ units and the local collectivist organization were preparing the takeover of the city, as they, just one day after the conquest of Pskov, were surprised by the Rus.

  The hastily erected barricades of the CLJ men in the inner city were surrounded by Frank`s motorized Varangian Guard and the collectivists were forced to surrender. Soon after, several hundred armed troopers marched through the streets and Tschistokjow followed them. The Russian policemen joined the crowd and most of them were even grateful, that the Rus had eliminated the collectivist menace.

  Ultimately, Tschistokjow`s followers gathered near the main administrative building and finally occupied it.

  Alfred Bäumer came, at the head of a group of troopers in gray shirts, waving his hands, when he recognized his best friend in the distance.

  “Frank!”, he shouted.

  Kohlhaas jumped from the truck and gave Alf a hug. “Bäumer, you`re here too?”

  The tall man chuckled. “Of course, Wilden has tortured my nerves for days and finally sent me to this beautiful place. No revolution without uncle Alf!”

  “We have made it! Velikie Luki is in our hands!” Kohlhaas raised his fist.

  “Hey, Frank, I want to join your motorized elite unit. You can tell this to Artur!”, said Alf and seemed to be a bit jealous.

  “Ok, if you like. I would be glad, of course...”, replied the general.

  ”Yes, I hope so. I can compete with any of these Russians there on the truck”, grumbled Bäumer, giving his friend a wink.

  ”Well, all right, Mr. Bäumer! Welcome to the Varangian Guard, the elite of the elite!”, boasted Kohlhaas and Alf climbed on a vehicle.

  With roaring engines, the truck convoy drove away while the rest of the Rus was marching through the city, singing, and finally listening to Tschistokjow`s speech.

  Till the end of the day, the Varangians hunted down the collectivists in the small villages around Velikie Luki and returned to the city in the night. Meanwhile, the dragon head banner was waving on the roof of the town hall.

  While the public order was crumbling everywhere in Russia, Tschistokjow`s men tried to conquer the rural areas around Smolensk.

  In Pocinok, three of them were shot by CLJ troopers at the end of August. A few days later, several hundred angry Rus came to the village and searched for the murderers of their comrades. They stormed the house of the local collectivist leader and killed him. Then they shot eight young men, who had been referred to them as members of the CASJ by the frightened inhabitants. Subsequently, Artur Tschistokjow criticized some of his group leaders energically, because of this brutal retaliation, but many of his troopers still backed this kind of counterterror. After they had brought the region under control, the Rus came back to Smolensk on 5th of September. And this time, they were prepared...

  “Believe me, the collectivists in western Russia are not as strong as around Moscow or in the eastern parts of the land. Here, the CASJ is still under construction and this time they are not lead by Uljanin”, remarked Frank confidently and adjusted his uniform.

  Alf looked nervously around, while his friend clapped him on the shoulder. “Keep cool. Today we will smash them!”, he said quietly.

  The truck convoy drove through the matutinal dawn in the direction of Smolensk. An atmosphere of hate and tension had come over the city again. The collectivists and the Russian police were waiting in the city center and this time they were even supported by a small force of GCF soldiers.

  Some people hurried across the street and tried to hide, when they saw the trucks of the Varangian Guard coming closer, others greeted friendly and a couple of young girls even threw flowers out of a window.

  On some houses in the city center, the old national flag of Russia or dragon head banners could be seen, on others hung the red-black flags of collectivism. The stuffy air of this day promised a discharge in smoke and death.

  Frank`s cellphone rang, it was Artur Tschistokjow.

  ”Oh, really? Well, we`ll see!”, heard Alf him say after half a minute, then Kohlhaas put the cellphone back into his pocket.

  ”Several hundred GCF soldiers are in the city center. They even have some anti-riot tanks”, explained Frank.

  “Anti-riot tanks?”, stammered Alf and swallowed.

  “Yes, but we have something to stop them!”, said Kohlhaas, staring across the street.

  The crowd of Tschistokjow`s supporters was still growing, thousands of Russians had meanhwile gathered under the dragon head flag.

  At 9.00 o`clock in the morning, about 20000 people marched towards the inner city, while 17000 were still waiting in the east of Smolensk. Artur himself led the bigger group. The yelling and chanting demonstrators marched through the streets, making a deafening noise, while the Varangian Guard stayed away from them and was operating independently. The truck convoy stopped and Frank's men searched the streets for collectivists. Then they drove on, towards the inner city, where they immediately encountered Uljanin`s CLJ units.

  “Here they are!”, shouted Kohlhaas. “Dawaj! Dawaj!”

  The Varangians jumped out of their trucks and catched sight of a several hundred collectivists who were screaming insults and threats at them. Kohlhaas took his radio and gave some commands, three of the trucks disappeared in a side street.

  “Now we`ll give these bastards a grilling!”, he said to Alf grimly.

  Only seconds later, cobblestones rained down on the truck and a bullet cut through the air. With a loud clang the windshield of the vehicle bursted and some more shots could be heard.

  ”Get down!”

  Bäumer jumped behind the truck. Frank and a group of Varangians followed him.

  “Dirty Rus scum! Today you will be stomped!”, yell
ed the collectivists.

  Now whole clouds of cobblestones flew through the air and a Molotov cocktail hit one of the trucks. The front part of it immediately burst into flames.

  “Why don`t we shoot back?”, whispered Alf.

  “Wait, the others will charge them from behind!”, Frank gave him to understand and loaded his rifle.

  A few minutes later, three trucks appeared in the back of the collectivist mob and stopped with squeaky tires, while the CLJ men were silent for a moment.

  “Get them!”, shouted Frank at the top of his lungs, jumping up and raising the rifle into the air. Then the Varangians attacked their enemies from two sides.

  A volley from automatic gunfire hit the swarm of surprised collectivists and the first of them were riddled with bullets. They started to scream, tried to find cover and finally fled in all directions. Frank and the others drove them right into the arms of the Varangians behind them, who immediately shot them down with their machine guns. A moment later, the enemy was wiped out or was turning tail and run. Some dozens of dead or heavily wounded CLJ troopers were lying on the asphalt in pools of blood. Frank and Alf hurried forward and called the Varangians together.

  “What shall we do now, general?”, asked one of them.

  Kohlhaas looked at him with a pugnacious glance and ordered his soldiers to get back into the trucks. The convoy drove through some dirty streets and finally reached the center of Smolensk. Loud screaming men with dragon head flags in their hands were marching down the street in front of them. This time it were their comrades.

  The demonstrating Rus cheered, when they saw the truck convoy and made way for the Varangians. After a while, about 40000 people had gathered in the center of Smolensk and the GCF soldiers moved forward, as soon as they saw the demonstrators appearing in the distance. Thousands of collectivists and some units of armed CLJ men followed them.

  ”Here we are now!” Alf pointed at the city map on his DC-Stick.

  “Well, we will attack them immediately! First the GCF soldiers, and then the rest”, said Kohlhaas and fumbled nervously around on a button of his uniform jacket.

  The Varangians heard the collectivists scream in the side streets around them, but the truck convoy unwaveringly sped further and broke through a police barrier. The officers jumped aside and hit the dirt.

  “Our trucks are coming through the Novo Park, over the flank!”, shouted general Kohlhaas into his radio, while the transport vehicles raced forward at breakneck speed. Shortly afterwards, the enemy was in sight.

  “Get off the trucks!”, yelled Alf at some Russians.

  The Varangians reacted immediately and prepared for the attack on the GCF soldiers and the collectivists, who seemed to be irritated because of their sudden appearance.

  “Fire!”, screamed Frank and his men sent a storm of bullets in the direction of Uljanin`s troopers.

  Dozens of GCF soldiers fell as under the strike of a giant scythe, even before they had found cover. The servants of the World Government tried to retreat, but the Varangians quickly encircled them and the fight turned into a bloodbath.

  Shortly afterwards, they came over the collectivists, who had already begun to attack the demonstrating Rus in front of them. Frank and Alf emptied one magazine after another, hurled hand grenades into the collectivist swarms and raged like berserks. The other Varangians followed their example, and within a short time, the collectivists and GCF soldiers were put to flight.

  They ran through the streets, throwing their red-black flags to the ground, while the Rus chased them with burning hatred. Tschistokjow`s followers beat them to death with clubs, iron bars and axes or striked them down with their guns. In the end, the mass flight of the collectivists ended in a massacre.

  After about two hours, the Rus had taken Smolensk. Hundreds of dead and wounded were covering the streets of the inner city, while the dragon head flag was waving on the top of the town hall. Artur Tschistokjow had never seen a slaugther like this before – except for the infamous rally in Gomel. Anyway, this time his men had won.

  The lightning attack of the motorized Varangian Guard had hit the enemy like a hammer blow. Neither the collectivists nor the GCF soldiers had had a chance against the 1000 best-trained and highly motivated elite soldiers of the Volksarmee.

  So they had to complain heavy casualties. About 80 GCF soldiers had been killed, furthermore over 500 collectivists. On the same day, Peter Ulljewski`s men had occupied the headquarter of the CASJ in the inner city of Smolensk. In the course of this operation, the DSR troopers had hanged the local CASJ chapter leader and his staff members.

  There was no more doubt, Smolensk had witnessed the prelude to a civil war and the brutal manner of the Rus, that had this time been similar to Uljanin`s methods, shocked Tschistokjow`s rivals in the western part of Russia significantly.

  But the collectivist movement had meanwhile conquered a lot of other cities, where all “counterrevolutionaries” had been arrested or executed by the CLJ. In the north of Moscow, for example in Vologda and Kostroma, the armed units of the CASJ and the Russian police fought against each other for days, but in the end the collectivists succeded. Uljanin`s revolution was now marching along the Volga. Mass demonstrations swept through Ulyanovsk and Syzran in early September. A few days later, the collectivists took over the cities and finally came to Balakovo, where their leader spoke in front of over 100000 people.

  No one dared to resist the red-black masses in Balakovo, and after they had occupied the city, the troopers of the CLJ killed everyone on open street, who was considered to be an “enemy of justice and equality”.

  The international media hardly reported about these bloody excesses or even tried to justify the brutal methods of the collectivists. Only the Rus were slandered once more and Russian television called them “terrorists” and “murderers”.

  Zarizyn should become the next stage of Uljanin`s revolution. Without any resistance, the CASJ took control over the city and expanded its influence towards the Black Sea. Rostov was occupied and conquered by the CLJ, while the street terror started to rage.

  Political opponents were hunted down, shot and hanged on the market places and in the streets. Within a single day, several hundred people were liquidated by CLJ squads. A large part of Uljanin`s victims were middle class Russians, furthermore patriots, professed christians, so called intellectuals or nonconformist thinkers. At the end of September, the collectivist tide even reached the Ukrainian border and finally came over Moscow.

  In the meantime, the Rus had established themselves in Bryansk after they had driven their opponents out of the city. Frank and countless other fighters carried the dragon head flag now further to the south and occupied a number of smaller towns.

  Soon after, the city of Klincy and the surrounding villages were captured by some units of the Volksarmee. Tschistokjow`s followers continued with their advance until they finally reached Orel and Kursk. This time, the widespread chaos and the lethargic attitude of the security forces made it easy to takeover these two cities as well, what gave the freedom movement a much better strategical position. But it was impossible to advance to central Russia. The heart of the country was too far away from more or less safe Belarus and meanwhile the collectivists were ruling over it.

  “In Nowgorod, the collectivists are not all too strong yet, their strongholds are in eastern and central Russia”, said Frank, looking expectantly at Tschistokjow.

  “Maybe you`re right”, answered the rebel leader, scratching his head.

  “We must lose no time. The rural region around Nowgorod is large and the collectivists will have problems to overrun it if we occupy the villages at first”, explained Kohlhaas.

  The President was musing for a moment, then he returned: “This is a good strategy, Frank! We need to get a strong position in St. Petersburg, Nowgorod could become the key for it!”

  “Yes, exactly! And around Nowgorod is a huge rural area, which extends up to Rybinsk. We must gain control
over these region, as soon as possible.”

  “Anyway, Uljanin will take over Moscow. One way or another!”, said Tschsitokjow angrily.

  “Yes, and we are not able to stop him! Nevertheless, we have to conquer the western part of Russia. That`s all we can do at present!”

  “And then we will expand our influence to the northern Ukraine. At first Nowgorod, then Ukraine”, remarked the Belarusian head of state in German and smiled.

  “The collectivists will occupy the region around Donez and probably even some other areas in the Russian west. In return, we should try to take over Kiev.”

  “Kiev!” Artur looked a little melancholically at his German friends. “I was born there. My hometown. In Kiev, we have a very active group of our organization, Frank!”

  “All groups in the Ukraine shall immediately start with a propaganda campaign. Demonstrating, distributing leaflets and so on. We have to win as much sympathy as possible among the people.”

  Tschistokjow only showed a simper. “There will be civil war in Russia. I`m sure. It is only a question of time, my friends. But how can we survive a conflict like this?”

  General Kohlhaas shrugged his shoulders. “I don`t know, Artur! The superiority of our enemies is immense, but we have to try it anyway.”

  “Well, then we should conquer Nowgorod at first. I`m counting on you and the Varangian Guard”, said the leader of the Rus and sat effetely down on his chair.

  Frank was happy that Alf was there. About hundred men of the Varangian Guard and he were sleeping tonight in an empty gym. When everything was quiet and Frank could only hear the quiet breathing and snoring of his soldiers, he was sometimes tortured by scattered thoughts. That night, he was depressive once again. The last few months, and the last years as well, had been a never-ending battle. The young man stared at the crumbling ceiling of the hall and let the thoughts wander through his head.

  This state of rumination he had always tried to suppress, but this time, Kohlhaas wasn´t able to ignore his inner feelings anymore. The blinders, which he had given to himself, had vanished for a moment, so that he could not avoid it to reflect about his life.

  Again and again, Julia's face appeared in front of his mind`s eye and he had to admit himself that he was still neglecting her. Nevertheless, Frank loved her, from the bottom of his heart, but he was always on the road. Tonight he slept in Pskov, a Russian city he had never heard of before. Soon they would advance to Nowgorod. And afterwards, Frank would be sent elsewhere.

  “In the end, everybody has a part of me, but nevertheless I will die alone”, he thought to himself, restlessly turning around in his sleeping bag.

  “I will call her tomorrow”, he promised to himself in moments like that - to forget it again on the next day. It had always been the same in the last years. Frank was always fighting somewhere, always on the run, from Japan to Russia to elsewhere. And the young man feared, that it would go on forever in this vein.

  Sad and frustrated, he sighed quietly. Was this the price for all the heroism? And was he a hero anyway? Maybe tomorrow everything would turn out to be an illusion, a soap bubble that would burst and nothing would remain of it...

  Artur Tschistokjow, who was in those days more a general than a statesman, and his men took Nowgorod. This time everything ended without bloodshed. The collectivists did not resist and most of the policemen defected to the Rus. The motorized Varangians and the trooper units with their trucks and assault rifles had been intimidating enough for their enemies.

  The ordinary citizens of Nowgorod cheered and finally hoped for order and peace. Russia flags shyly hung out of some windows, while a group of young women was throwing bouquets at the Rus, that were marching through the inner city. Impatiently, the people clogged the main streets to see the rebel leader from Belarus. Many inhabitants of Nowgorod had feared the collectivists and now they praised Tschistokjow as their protector and liberator. Finally, the head of the freedom movement delivered a speech in front of over 70000 people.

  Frank and Alf breathed again at the end of this day. There hadn`t been any fights, and the opponents had already fled. Several regiments of the Volksarmee and some trooper units secured the occupied cities in western Russia, while the political functionaries of the freedom movement tried to restore order.

  The occupation of these border towns was an initial success, but measured against the fact, that the collectivists already controlled great parts of Russia, it was hardly worth mentioning.

  In the middle of October, Uljanin came to Moscow and reorganized his party. Numerous rallies and parades, a sea of ​​red-black flags and angry masses, stirred up the Russian metropolis and its 16 million inhabitants. Occasionally, the Russian police was ignoring their orders from above and tried to stop the collectivist mobs. But they were chanceless.

  On the 20th of October, bloody barricade fights began and about 50000 members of the CASJ attacked the police. The riots lasted for several days and Uljanin`s men left a trace of devastation all over Moscow.

  Not a single GCF soldier had been sent out to protect the city and not single a tank or Skydragon had appeared. The international forces had long retreated, leaving the helpless policemen alone, while the wrath of the collectivists came over them. It didn`t take long, until the Russian police had surrendered. Now the streets of the Russian capital belonged to Uljanin`s CLJ squads.

  Kuluga and Tula, two cities in the south of Moscow, were also overrun by the red-black revolution, that had seized the old Russian capital like a raging wildfire. The members of the CASJ were now only waiting for Uljanin, who wanted to proclaim the collectivist victory in the heart of Russia`s most important metropolis.

  In the meantime, CLJ units conquered Serpuhov and Kolomna and the entire south of Moscow. Finally, the leader of the CASJ followed them with his staff.

  On the 30th of October, the collectivists occupied the Kremlin and the governor of the administrative sector “Eastern Europe”, Maxim Blumenew, abdicated. Uljanin let him leave the city and Blumenew flew to North America a few days later.

  “Artur Tschistokjow - The savior of Belarus will give you work and safety!”, could be read under the image of the leader of the freedom movement, which was printed on the small data disc in Frank`s hand. The general, lost in thought, beheld the photo of the blonde man with a serious face. Anyone looking at it, could foresee the eerie power and strength of this fanatical revolutionary.

  Meanwhile, Frank could repeat almost every word of the video presentation on this disc. He and his Varangians had already distributed thousands of them in the last weeks. Yes, he had watched the short propaganda movie countless times. The success of Tschistokjow`s regiment was shown to the viewer, while the video presentation warned of the “Gravedigger of Russia”, Vitali Uljanin, in the same breath. The head of the CASJ was the mass murderer, the traitor, the red-black messenger of terror and so on. The same content was, only slightly compressed, on the leaflets, which were distributed by the Rus in great numbers all over western Russia.

  Artur Tschistokjow was the “savior”, Uljanin was the “devil” and the “Agent of the Lodge Brothers”. The freedom movement wanted to rescue Russia, the collectivists wanted to destroy it. Black and white, good and evil - this was the soul and the core of all propaganda and it would always work well, thought Frank.

  Meanwhile, he had dedicated himself to Tschistokjow, like a disciple to his Redeemer. Frank had fought and killed for this man, and he was still on the front, risking his life over and over again. And the same did his friend Alf and all the other Rus.

  “I know you since several years now, but you are still a stranger for me, my friend”, whispered Frank, staring at Tschistokjow`s photo.

  Then he looked briefly around. Only some loud talking soldiers stood at the other end of the warehouse and smoked. Kohlhaas was sitting on a large cardboard box and was glad if no one was bothering him today with any new orders or vanities.

  “I trust you, like a baby trusts its mother?
??, it flashed through the general`s mind as his eyes examined Tschistokjow`s charismatic, expressive facial features. “Don`t ever deceive me, Artur!”

  As the word “mother” came back into Frank`s mind, he thought of her for a short moment. He had almost forgotten his mother, as he admitted and felt guilty. And it was the same with his father and his sister, who were already dead since several years. Could they see him now? Now, as he was sitting here in this gray warehouse, on a box, in the outskirts of Minsk? What would his father say? What would his mother think about him? What would his parents think of all this here? Would they be proud to have a son, who was admired by his comrades, because he was a great killer?

  Frank came to no conclusion and ultimately he said to himself, that he alone was carrying the responsibility for his deeds and could only be judged by God. This world had become a vale of tears, a huge battlefield and again and again Frank said to himself, that he was fighting for a better future.

  “Killing today, for a better tomorrow...”, muttered Kohlhaas and remembered the text of an old heavy metal song from his youth. Distraughtly, he shook his head because of all these absurd ideas.

  “This world has lost its mind! You are the only light in this night full of madness and hatred”, he whispered and stared at Tschistokjow`s picture. He drilled his gaze into the portrait and meticulously studied every feature of the rebel leader.

  “The good thing is, that this photo can not change. It can never change, it will always be as it is. An unchanging thing that can not be falsified. It must remain unchangeable -forever! Yes, this is good and true. You are true, Artur Tschistokjow. There can`t be any doubt”, muttered Kohlhaas.

  ”Do not disappoint me, my friend! At least, one thing on this damn planet must remain true and honest...”

  The chairman of the Collectivist Association for Social Justice looked down on the huge mass around him. He was standing on a small stage, surrounded by a roaring, red-black crowd, that lusted for every word he said. Meanwhile, the cunning man had nearly fulfilled the task, the elders had given to him. Moscow was drowning in the collectivist flood, which had been unleashed by him. Now, only the west of Russia had to be conquered by his men. And after this, they would take the Ukraine and then the revolution would even reach central Asia. Afterwards, the collectivists would take over Poland, the Czech Republic and finally western Europe.

  Uljanin hoped, that the Council of the 13 would allow it to him one day, to carry the flag of collectivism around the world. But it depended on the decisions of the wise. It had to be a part of the Great Plan, because every action had to serve it. Uljanin was merely a lackey, an agent, but he had begun to love his role.

  “We will prevail! Forever! The nations of the earth shall serve us and creep through the dust beneath our feet. We will devour them with skin and hair”, the collectivist leader said quietly to himself and smiled.

  The people in front of him were crying, shouting and screaming, a riptide of human beings, flooding through the streets of Moscow.

  “Freedom! Equality! Justice!”, it resounded out of tens of thousands of throats.

  The head of the collectivist movement looked at his followers with a slight tang of contempt. Many of these men, who praised him today, were desperate, sad creatures. They had dirty faces and looked starved, emaciated, unshaven, unwashed and pale. But they were eager to follow his orders.

  Nevertheless, some of them, though not the largest part of the collectivist mass, were not poor. For example the students of the university of Moscow, who had joined the CASJ. Many of these young academics had become functionaries in the collectivist movement and they liked it to theorize in front of the poor, reciting Mardochow`s maxims a thousand times.

  Often, these sassy, ​​self-righteous young graduates told the despaired and poor people around them, how Mardochow and Uljanin would end their pain one day. However, most of the uneducated men and women did not understand much of what they preached them, but the promise of a better future always sounded like music in their ears.

  “The revolution has conquered Moscow!”, shouted Vitali Uljanin with a trembling voice, throwing his arms into the air.

  The human carpet around him started to roar and the sea of ​​red-black flags waved back and forth.

  “Now it is done! You will be free! You will find social justice! Equality! Equality! Equality!”, screamed Uljanin, holding his fist high.

  His followers answered him with the same gesture and chorused: “Equality! Equality!”

  “But before I can save you, my collectivist brothers, we have to free also the rest of Russia from the capitalist exploiters and Tschistokjow`s fascist hordes!

  These reactionist murderers have occupied several towns in the west, but we will drive them back! We will exterminate this criminal breed, with root and branch!

  They are responsible for the fact, that I can not help you so far! They are to blame, if you are still hungry and I can not accomplish my work for the great equality! The Rus are the enemies of our revolution and the enemies of Russia!”

  The seething mass answered with a deafening, hate-filled screaming, while thousands of men were brandishing clubs, axes and all kinds of other weapons. They looked archaic and barbaric, like a horde of ravenous prehistoric men.

  “We start today, everything that keeps us away from eternal equality must be destroyed! Follow me, my brothers! Follows me, wherever I lead you to, because I will lead you into a bright future!”

  The people around Uljanin fell into a feverish frenzy and were overturned by boundless enthusiasm. The leader of the CASJ smiled contentedly down on them. How easy it was, to manipulate the masses.

  Death Toll for Ivas