Chapter Text
It's been 17 years after World War 2 and I'm not sure if my wounds will ever heal. I've recieved a job contract from some company called "Mann Co". Offering a mercenary job or something like that, although something tells me that they will just send me back to the Soviet Gulags. Nevertheless it's worth a shot and the monthly pay is a damn good 65,000 US Dollars! I have already recieved word that there is a transport on its way to pick me up to the States. That seems like all I have to say for now.
Lt. Junior.Fenragus, 1962 February 4th, Kiev, USSR.
As the dawn of February 5th crept up on the victorious Soviet Union, so did the would-be Engineer of BLU out of his bed. Having a quick shower and meal, he started getting dressed, periodically glancing at the mirror. His posture wasn't the best, but that's what you get when you serve for Russian forces for 3 years. He had some old scars from the war and lost his right hand from a mortar bombing in 1942. The hand is now replaced with a robotic prohesthetic. His now old and slightly-worn Lieutenant uniform was hanging in the middle of the drawers, presented proudly. It crossed his mind, that heading to American territory at this time wasn't the brightest idea, but the monthly wage was too good to pass up. Especially not with a uniform recieved by high ranking communist millitary personel. He will have to formally dress himself in a different attire. Grabbed a gray overcoat and matching pants and headed out
The Lieutenant was out and about to go his way to the remote train station where his entourage would be arriving in half an hour. Just before he could head in the right direction though, he caught a woman with her child getting beaten up by some passing soldier. Weighing the consequences, he quickly started sprinting and took a jab at the younger mans jaw, making him stumble for a moment. A moment is all he needed and when the soldier - a fresh recruit judging by the uniform regained his balance,he was met with a Makarov at his mouth. The kid ran off without hesitation. Satisfied with the results, Fenragus continued his way towards the now approacing locomotive.The train had a blueish tint all around it and in big white bold letters it read:
"BLU Supply and Transport train No. 23"
"Builders League United "
"MANN CO"
"Ahh so that's what it is - a construction company!" - Fen happilly exclaimed to himself - "I don't mind some labour work once in a while"
And with those words he climbed aboard the train. It will take him to Berlin's national airport in a few hours and from there to the Americas in a few more."It's going to be a long ride" - He couldn't be more correct.
As he stepped onto the train, he was met with 8 other faces, each different from the rest. Then, the smallest and probably the youngest of the group said in a snarkish tone "Sup man, looks like your gonna be our new Engineer 'ere" - "Uh thanks mate and it seems like I will be" - Engineer politely replied. The rest of the team went back to their previous activities afer meetin their newest member: playing cards, drinking and making bets on who would get the best job at BLU. The Engineer enjoyed the company of the other 8 passionate and optimistic men. Although that there was an American amongst them made the Engie and Heavy worry. Both of them glanced at eachother in a manner that would strike a conversation between them. They sat down at a nearby table and Heavy started - "The Soldier dosen't know me and Engineer are communist, what will we do, tovarisch?
"I'm not sure my friend but for now we keep it a secret." - Engineer offered. "Deal" - the Heavy nodded and both men left the table.
Night was coming and the train was showing no signs of stopping. The Polish border has been crossed recently, and the East German one is coming up soon. "Time for some shuteye" - He muttered to himself and went to the convieniently placed bunk beds and drose off in a matter of minutes. The worst has yet to come. Just ouside, before he was fully sleeping, he could hear the ensuing commotion of the blue-clad mercenaries. The trains racket slowly diminished as slumber overtook the tired and worn-out man.