**** Elysium 1986 ****

A grazing bullet burned Yuri’s left upper arm, then another bullet tore the skin off his right hip. As he felt the wounds, he knew he was more lucky than good at that moment. This rush might cost them their lives, but what choice did they have? They had to reach the control center as soon as possible. The longer they took, the greater the chance that more personnel from the base would show up. Would his bullets be enough? He rolled across the floor and fired three times, hitting one of the Marines coming towards them in the chest, while another took cover in a doorway on the left side of the corridor. Yuri kept firing, hitting him in the lower leg. The soldier screamed and fell forward to the ground. The giant ran toward him, unaware that his own blood was already running down his wetsuit. Abigail, who had picked herself up by now, ran after him, gun pointed down. The hallway wasn’t wide enough. There was no way she could have opened fire herself without putting Yuri in danger. When he reached the wounded soldier, he knocked him unconscious without thinking twice and took his gun. At the same moment, an automatic double door opened to his left, where the soldier had previously taken cover. Yuri jerked both pistols forward and aimed into the opening. He could see three men, two of them in uniform and armed.
“Hey, what’s going on?” one of them shouted in Russian. The TRAP agent didn’t hesitate and opened fire. Thunderous shots rang out from his pistols as he practically sifted through the men in front of him. The one behind him already had a submachine gun at the ready. As the deadly shots hit him, his hand tightened around the weapon and the trigger. Gurgling, he emptied the entire magazine as he fell backwards, most of the bullets smashing through the glass of the computer terminal next to him on the wall. Lightning flashed from the damaged circuit boards and severed cables, and the ceiling light began to flicker. The automatic door, on the other hand, was in the process of closing again, but then it got stuck and stopped moving. The gap was just wide enough for Yuri to squeeze his massive body through. He looked up. The sign above the door said Command Bridge. He motioned to Abigail, who was now standing behind him again.
“In here, this is right place,” he panted, already squeezing through the gap.
“Yuri, you’re bleeding!” the programmer shouted, but he no longer heeded the warning. No sooner had he squeezed through to the other side than another searing pain shot through his left thigh. He looked down at himself. The handle of a screwdriver was sticking out of his leg. A woman in a mechanic’s outfit had lurked behind the door and, lacking a weapon, had simply rammed the nearest tool at hand into Yuri’s body. Gritting his teeth, the giant aimed both pistols at the woman and pulled the triggers. This sequence of movements had been pure automatism. Nothing happened, both guns just clicked. He had fired all his ammunition at the men before. The woman stood before him, white as a sheet, her eyes wide open and trembling with shock.
“Fucking bitch!” he heard Abigail yell behind him. Then a shot rang out and the mechanic was knocked off his feet. Abigail had shot her in the thigh at close range. She immediately pointed her silver Colt around the room. It was large and had a panoramic window made of a meter thick bulletproof glass. Spotlights built into the outer wall shone into the darkness of the deep sea, giving the view an almost ghostly atmosphere. Three other men, who had been sitting at various control stations scattered around the room, had jumped out of their chairs at the commotion. A senior officer had just run out of another door onto the bridge to get to the bottom of the noise.
“Get down on the ground and put your hands on your head, now! This is my only warning! Anyone who does not surrender will be shot immediately!” Yuri shouted in Russian as he pulled the screwdriver out of his thigh and threw it away. Colored dots flashed in front of his eyes, and he couldn’t stop himself from groaning in pain. He could barely concentrate. As he crouched down to quickly pick up one of the pistols of the previously killed soldiers, he wanted to scream out loud. While the men at the control panels had complied with his request, throwing themselves to the ground and covering their heads with their hands for protection, the officer who had just arrived went on the attack. He drew his gun from its holster. Abigail immediately opened fire on him, hitting him four times before he finally dropped dead.
“If the description is correct, this should be the room with the control unit for Lazarus!” Abigail shouted to Yuri, who limped over to her and pointed to the door from which the officer had just emerged.
“Forward,” Yuri gasped, and immediately headed in that direction.
“Harry… hurry… and don’t let that meteor drinker kill you…” Abigail growled, glancing back down the corridor they had come from. Her companion would catch up to them, find them. He simply had to. He had to! After all, the blood splatter and the bodies were impossible to miss. At that moment, the small screen on her arm vibrated and reported that Yanny was badly damaged. She swallowed a large lump in her throat and then ran forward, weapon at the ready, overtaking the limping Yuri.
“Careful!” Yuri shouted at her.
“Ah shit, quick!” she just shouted back and stormed into the next room as if stung by a tarantula.

Harry attacked with a rapid succession of punches, breaking the Meteor Drinker’s guard again and again. His brass knuckled hands struck hard, leaving deep red marks on his opponent’s body. Then he swung at Tichon’s jaw, causing his head to crack and crunch. Undeterred, he countered and Harry ducked and dodged. When he finally had no choice but to block one of the Russian’s blows, he nearly lost his breath. The power was superhuman. It was as if he was trying to hold back a wild ox with his hands. Tichon threw a frontal kick that Harry barely dodged. He jumped to the nearby wall to his right, kicked off with his foot and used the momentum to deliver another side kick to his opponent’s face from the spinning motion in flight. The Russian had not expected such an attack. His jaw broke and blood spurted from his mouth. Any normal person would have been knocked unconscious. Tichon, however, only had to collect himself for a moment and slowly drove Harry into the corner of the room with more blows. The street samurai tried again to dodge the blows and then escaped to the left. He knew that once his opponent caught him, he would have no chance. However, he had not reckoned with the wide leap that the Russian now made from a standing position and jumped straight at him. Tichon’s fist flew in and hit Harry’s body, knocking the air out of his lungs. A right hook followed immediately. Harry just managed to get his forearm in front of his still bruised ribs to keep them from breaking again. The blow nearly knocked him off his feet. He staggered, disoriented, when suddenly another frontal kick caught him in the chest, sending him backwards against the wall. The thud literally tore through him. Harry coughed up blood and tried desperately to catch his breath, feeling as if his heart had stopped completely for a moment. Meanwhile, Tichon pushed his jaw back into place with a cracking sound and then immediately marched towards Harry, who was desperately trying not to lose his balance and had to brace himself against the wall. The Russian swung and hit. Harry ducked. His opponent’s fist smashed through the wall, leaving a hole. Another punch followed and again Harry ducked, staggering. Tichon punched a second hole in the wall. Harry tried to run forward and past his opponent, but his circulation got in the way. He was too slow and uncoordinated, and the Meteor Drinker caught him by the belt. He pulled Harry towards him as if he had no weight, then rammed him three times with his back against the wall. Then he reached out and threw the street samurai halfway across the room. Harry’s flight was stopped by the sandbag hanging from the ceiling and he crashed to the floor next to the weight rack. The TRAP agent knew he was badly injured, even though the adrenaline was still suppressing the worst of the pain for the moment. He was just trying to stay conscious somehow, to get back on his feet. There was no way he was going to stay on the ground. In a blur he saw the meteor drinker slowly approaching.

Tichon stomped towards Harry. He would put an end to him. Right now. This fight had gone on far too long anyway. Right next to him he suddenly saw her again, that mysterious figure of transparent blue light. It had been with him since the day the doctors had injected him with the crystal liquid. The crystal that had been inside a meteor that had fallen in the middle of nowhere in the icy desert of the north. Of course, he had told the doctors about it, but they hadn’t believed him. They had said that it was just a reaction of his subconscious, making him believe in confusing images, and that it would all go away if he complied with the medical measures imposed on him. But it wasn’t true, he didn’t stop seeing it. The figure had never spoken to him in all that time, often hovering around him for hours, watching him. Like a ghost, a figment of his imagination, a shadow from another world. Sometimes she drove him crazy, but he couldn’t grab her, send her away, or threaten her. Her glow faded a little, and so did the blue glow in his eyes. He felt the energy boost the figure had given him fade away. He was already familiar with this state from his training. The superhuman strength this figure gave him when his body was under extreme strain would only last for a few minutes at a time. However, the rapid healing of his body did not depend on these temporary bursts of energy, it always worked. He shook out the hand that had punched the two holes in the wall. It didn’t matter anymore, he didn’t need any more energy boosts in this fight to deal the death blow to the unknown Japanese. The guy was finished. Let the damned doctors later find out from his remains how this agent had managed to penetrate the base and where he had come from.

Harry pulled himself up onto the shelf. If his time had come, he at least wanted to die standing up. Tichon was quite surprised when he regained his fighting stance and raised his bloody fists. Of course, the Meteor Drinker noticed how difficult it was for Harry to stay on his feet. He immediately swayed heavily as he took his hands off the rack. The Russian took his measure and feinted with his right, but then turned in a flash and delivered a high left kick to Harry’s head. The TRAP agent was no stranger to this technique though; he liked to use it himself from time to time and could tell by the movement of his opponent’s shoulders. Harry ducked down and blocked his opponent’s leg with his bent left forearm, holding it up at the same time, and with the last of his left strength threw a right hook from below with his brass knuckled fist directly into the Russian’s genitals. It was a blunt blow from nowhere, and in this disadvantageous position for the Meteor Drinker, it could not be countered. He let out a high, shrill scream that turned into a whimper. Tichon slumped to the ground, both hands between his legs, his body hunched over. Harry, on the other hand, coughed heavily after this action. Since the last attack, there was no doubt that the blows against the wall before had injured his spine. He could feel it clearly now, but he couldn’t say exactly what it was. He could still feel his legs, but his hands were tingling. Then he imperceptibly shook his head. Don’t give up, it’s not over yet. Another high-pitched scream escaped Tichon, who was simply unable to get up and continue fighting. Harry limped over to the shelf, shakily took out a 25-kilogram weight plate, and then shuffled over to the Meteor Drinker.
“I guess it’s better if we don’t find out how long it takes your balls to grow back together…” he said calmly, then pinned his opponent’s neck with his right foot so he could aim the plate directly at his head from above.

Categorized as: Novel 7 (EN) | Novel Chapter (EN)

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