"Come on, you dogs! Do you want to live forever? Urraaaa!" Boris yelled with his Makarov pistol raised above his head while the platoon was inspired by this newfound prospect of victory and pushed forward. The European outpost went up in a fireball, prompting the surviving soldiers to abandon the cramped confines of their sandbag positions and retreat. The mortar operators re-adjusted their aim, preparing to lob another shell, when suddenly a group of jets flew above their heads. Meanwhile, the defenders had snapped out of their momentary confusion and opened up on Boris, grazing him while he took cover behind a rock. "Ground element be advised, we've acquired the target and are lining up for our run", the MiG leader confirmed the coordinates. The Europeans were so shocked by the sight of this man coming at them like a charging bear that they missed their cue to fire, buying Boris enough time to grab the designator and mark the enemy positions. "Now! Cover me, comrades!" Boris yelled furiously while he vaulted over the ridge and made a mad, screaming dash to the body of the air controller. The rocket-propelled grenade zoomed across the field and smashed into the post, silencing the red-hot machine gun forever. In that instant, the Russians popped back up behind the ridge, spraying bullets at the defenders while one of them took aim with an RPG-29. Soon, another 200 round drum magazine was depleted, urging the soldier to reload. "Listen up, comrades! I have a plan!" he exclaimed while the European machine gunner kept tearing through the shrubbery. It was at this point when one man, a burly Siberian Sergeant by the name Boris Bikov, decided to step in.
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"This is Serp to ground element! We're circling over the forest with a full payload of incendiaries but we need someone to highlight the target!" the leader of a MiG-45 squadron reported in over the radio while the Lieutenant, who was widely regarded by his men as an ineffectual upper-class twit looking to grab some superficial military bragging rights, rocked back and forth in catatonic shock. Their favourite tactic was to lay low, let the bulk the Russian armoured spearhead move further inland, then pop out of the undergrowth and wreak havoc on the Federation's supply and reinforcement routes. Even though many sections of the ECA's supposedly 'impenetrable' border blockade had been breached by massed volleys of tank and artillery fire, the Poles clung to every inch of their home soil, launching attacks from dug-in positions that were well hidden in the extensive forests of the eastern regions.
Now the precious laser designator was trapped in the no man's land between a heavily fortified Polish position and the ridge where his platoon had taken cover. "This is impossible! We're all going to DIE here!" Lieutenant Filatov panicked as another European mortar shell found its mark and obliterated the unit's forward air controller.
A renowned hero within the Russian armed forces, Boris' stealth training makes him invisible unless he attacks an enemy or is spotted by an enemy detector unit.
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