[b]The Market[/b] [b][u]Moscow Metro, "Alexandrov"[/u][/b] Vladimir browsed the wares of the merchant, the man wearing the aged Spetsnaz fatigues was way past his prime. His hair greying in many spots and his face worm with time. A knife was at his side and so was his trusty мaкаров handgun. He eyed the flamethrower curiously as he reached into his pockets to lay a heap of roubles, magazines, and strange, pebble-sized metals out onto the table. "How much ammo will this buy if I get flamethrower with it?" "Four tanks along with the one already loaded." "хорошо. Take the money and the items and reserve it for when I get back." He continued his march through the bazaar, many people selling European foods of Russian origin. A man wearing old urban military gear from the pre-war "ратник" project ran towards him, a gas mask on a belt around his waist and a messenger bag made from animal skin under his left arm. The armor was especially damaged around the legs and he seemed relatively young, his face was mostly unhurt and the places with punter wounds showed undamaged skin. In obviously wasn't who he thought it was Vladimir drew his sidearm and aimed it right at the man's forehead. "Stop right there where I can see your hands. I know only one person here who wears that armor and model of gas mask and that's my brother Dimitry, uo7nobiously aren't him. Tell me how you got it." "S-sir I'm just a messenger, I was told to deliver some stuff to you and gave me this suit to protect me from the environment." Vladimir lowered his gun hesitantly and put it on his hip. "Give me whatever message you came to deliver and give the armor back." The man handed Vladimir a picture and a camera, after looking at the footage he clenched his fist with anger and waved his hand at the mail courier signaling for him to leave. "Leave the armor and equipment at my doorstep, I'll be heading by nightfall to deal with his killer." (Closed.)