Note: Kazakh refers to a race of people and the official language of Kazakhstan. Kazakhstani refers to the actual people of Kazakhstan, Kazakh or not. Just thought it would be wise to inform you.

Kazakhstan

Over the Mangghystau Desert

1500 Hours

Approaching Insertion Point

Everyone could tell that the plane delivering the mercenaries to Kazakhstan was old. It was an Antonov An-26, a relic from the Seventies, and no one would feel comfortable inside the rusted and groaning aircraft. For the first time in years, Mattias was reminded of the fact that he was over 2,000 feet in the air, but he certainly was not alone in that respect. Obviously, the wonderful Kazakhstani military did not grant much priority to mercenaries.

Mattias looked to his right. Sitting on top of the red fold-out seat on the side of the fuselage were the two new faces from before. In the better light of the plane, he could tell they were likely in their twenties, and one of them had a particularly nasty scar running sideways just below the eyes. They seemed to know each other well, as they would speak to each other often. Mattias caught himself being so nosy, then realized it was a natural attempt to distract himself from the nearly perilous position everyone was in.

This brought Mattias's mind to Chris Jacobs and Jennifer Mui. Throughout the Korean job they learned about each other's existence, and they even met each other, though on less-than-friendly terms. But the three of them had kept silent throughout the journey, except for some responses to Fiona. Now they were forced together, no matter how loosely, and none of them wanted that sort of assignment. Only the obvious pay-off from such a military clusterfuck would entice them to stay on this.

Then everyone's earpieces came to life with the voice of Fiona. "Wake up everyone, its time for your drop-off," she announced, "You'll be coming in low, so get your equipment ready and board the vehicle in an organized manner." Fiona tried to sound as much like an airline attendant as possible on the last part.

Like anyone could sleep on this piece of shit; Chris, Jennifer, and Mattias thought.

The vehicle was a Sungri Scout, like the ones used by the North Koreans, except this one had a more fitting paint job for Kazakhstan. It no longer seemed so roomy with five fully-loaded mercenaries trying to board. Mattias already had all of his equipment on him or packed nearby, so he quickly harnessed himself up before taking his favorite position at the swivel-mounted PKM of the Scout.

It took a few minutes for the rest of the team to equip themselves and board the truck. Jacobs took the driver's seat while Mui sat to his right. The two others crammed themselves in the back.

Mattias looked down at the two newcomers. He was usually not the person who sparked a conversation, but working with two people whose names he did not know was starting to become unnerving.

"Hey," he said to catch their attention, "what's your names?"

The one with the scar on his face answered first. "I'm Tarif Moreau, from Algeria." Mattias nodded as he noticed the man's green eyes and brown hair along with his accent.

The other one spoke up just a moment later. "Dietrich Manning, from Germany." This man had dirty blonde hair, and his eyes were hidden by sunglasses. He had hair clinging to his chin which seemed just too long and too deliberate to be stubble. Dietrich's accent was more English than anything else, but it did not surprise Mattias in the slightest. The man was probably a linguistics expert.

There was a slight jolt as the Antonov began its descent to nearly ground level. Mattias was caught off-guard; he almost fell out of the Scout.

"It might be a good idea to strap yourself down somewhere."

Mattias looked down to see Mui. She was still looking down, fumbling with her equipment harness.

"Oh, so you're into that," replied Mattias in an intentionally perverse tone.

Mui paused for a second. "On second thought, just go ahead and fall to your death. The rest of us might get a bigger paycheck."

"Alright you two," chimed in Fiona, "Mattias, there should be a loop on the gun mounting somewhere. Hook yourself up to that."

Mattias found the loop opposite himself and clipped his harness to it. Now his body was wrapped uncomfortably around the PKM mounting.

"How much longer until we're dropped off?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Just a few minutes." Mattias could have sworn there was a touch of humor in Fiona's voice.

Jacobs turned on the engine and revved it a couple of times, pressing firmly on the accelerator. This served absolutely no practical purpose, but it seemed necessary to make some kind of flamboyant gesture with the car, and there was no room in the cabin for a doughnut.

There was another jolt as the back door reluctantly folded out. Almost immediately below the desert whizzed by in a red blur. Jacobs switched gears, and the vehicle lurched before he slammed on the gas. In the blink of an eye the Sungri was in mid-air. Mattias felt weightless for a moment, then held on to the mounting desperately as the truck slammed into the dusty ground.

For several seconds, it was too dusty for Mattias to see anything from his awkward position. Brown dust had been thrown everywhere from the plane. Then, as the sky cleared, Mattias could hear Jacobs' panicked voice.

"Oh, shi--!"

There was the brief sound of crushing metal, and Mattias' vision went black.