The city was dark and cold. Even in summer, especially this summer, the nights were still cold. They were about to get colder. Moscow provided many shadows and alleyways to hide in. One was about to be used against the city itself.
The man pulled out a cellphone and called. His silhouette was spotted three streets over by a professional sniper. The sniper had no interest in killing the man, however. He was the backup.
"Are we all clear?" the deep, strong voice came over the phone as soon as the sniper picked it up.
"Affirmative." the russian accent came. "Good luck, comrade!"
The bearded man in the alley had hung up by then. "You'll need luck all right."
The man pulled the trigger out of his pocket and pressed the button. Explosions erupted around the silent city. It was uncanny for the city to be so quiet. The bearded man didn't know why it was, nor did he care. It was already becoming very noisy.
He walked out of the shadows into a snowy field, the eruptions continuing behind him. One of the first explosions had been in the building the sniper was located on. IF he had survived, he'd be found helpless, with a sniper винтовка near him, and a bullet between his eyes. Russians didn't enjoy traitors.
The man was scary himself. He was dressed and looked like a lumberjack. His hair and full beard were brown, his eyes an icy, unsympathetic blue. Over his shoulder he carried an axe. This wasn't for looks или disguise. It was his signature weapon.
The Axeman, wanted in over 40 countries, walked past emergency crews calmly.