Rarely are the Swamps as great a place for mutants as during a faction war. As humans bleed and kill, the mutants get to devour corpses and get stronger. During great strife, even stronger mutants such as the swamp bloodsucker, long though extinct, reappear to feast on the misery. When the forces of Redemption and Clear Sky clashed with renegades and Black Slugs, this was once again the case. Blind dogs, cats, pseudodogs and boars scavenged battlefields and removed corpses. However, as the battles began to slow down, the mutants turned their attention to the living humans.

Cold had anticipated this thanks to his experience with the first and second wars for the Swamps. In every Clear Sky outpost that had been reclaimed, no matter how bad the battle had been beforehand, guard duties ensued right away. Packs of fleshes and boars, hordes of dogs or even the occasional pair of pseudodogs were driven away with fire. The mutants found another target further up north, striking the military outpost. Weakened by the attack on the Black Slugs earlier, and staffed mostly by conscripts led by a squad of military stalkers, the checkpoint held, but only barely. Two of the military stalkers fell to bloodsuckers, and last one was wounded by a boar.

Boris had observed this battle earlier. He was resting on top of a rock not far from the machine yard, his binoculars sweeping over the facility. While it would be easy to claim the place in a frontal assault, Boris was uncertain what this would mean for his standing with the military. The mission given by Major Zhurov had him on thin ice, it was of utmost importance to not piss the army off. Perhaps there was a possibility for negotiation here, Boris thought to himself and slid down the rock to where Dima, Sanyok and Stepukha were enjoying breakfast.

"Picnic in the middle of a warzone, this is a first.", Sanyok said, mouth full of beans, as Boris stepped on their little camp.

"Reminds me of Chechnya. Once we had an artillery shell dud in the trench next to us, and one of my friends was eating tushonka mere two metres from it like it was nothing.", Dima chuckled, grilling a sausage over a tiny campfire.

"Did he survive, perhaps?", Stepukha asked, munching on bread.

"No. The bastards got him later.", Dima sighed and took out his almost black sausage from the fire, wolfing it down.

"Goddammit Dima, you're going to have to tell us soon which side you fought with or I'm going to strangle the truth out of ya!", Stepukha growled, and Dima gave him a mischievous yet annoying grin.

"Quiet lads, the jarheads will hear you if you keep screaming like fleshes on fire all the time. I have a plan. We're going to negotiate with the soldiers, hope that they understand just how fucked they are right now.", Boris joined the conversation.

"Negotiate with soldiers? Bunch of conscripts probably will piss their pants and shoot you from the surprise of this the second the Absolver comes to view.", Dima commented on the plan.

"Dima is not exactly on the money, but I do think simply marching in there will be foolish. We need a bargaining chip. We need to spook up the conscripts so bad that they forget everything but returning back to mama's broth at home.", Sanyok added.

"Indeed. This is where you come in, Sanyok. You still have the launcher ready? I doubt it can destroy the walls of the complex, but it sure as hell will make them wet themselves and cry for mama.", Boris asked, and with glee in his eyes, Sanyok took out the RG-6.

"I have only six rounds. Should be enough though, for a bit of morale breaking.", Sanyok replied, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically, and Boris nodded in return.

Ten minutes passed. Inside the machine yard, the squad of conscripts had gathered around the wounded military stalker, Sgt. Ponomarenko. The squad medic, Shvets, was standing next to him. The sergeant's condition was stable, but he was unconcious. The only leader they had, and he was on an unscheduled beauty sleep, Shvets thought to himself. Their current squadleader was one of the conscripts, lance corporal Kulyk. He was currently by the PKM, nervously fiddling with the ammunition belt. Squad sniper Popova was by the window, scanning the field ahead, while riflemen Nazarenko and Marchuk kept watch by the doors on both sides. Shvets couldn't help but feel like he was stuck in his personal Stalingrad, enemies circling all around, command ordering them to stand ground despite it holding barely any significance to anyone. It was insanity.

"Kulyk. We need to start making decisions. Those cyan motherfuckers have most of the swamp in their control, and the deals Lt. Maksymenko did with those bandit bastards won't stop them from filling us with lead and tossing us into the swamp water to rot.", Shvets began his verbal advance, hoping to save the men in the room.

"Captain Korol told us to hold our ground. We can't disobey them without good cause, and we still have the advantage of this base. The enemy lacks weapons to break in, and we can still call in the heli if all else fail.", Kulyk replied, but his voice betrayed anxiety.

"I'm with Shvets on this. We need reinforcements or otherwise we'll be overrun.", Nazarenko chimed in.

"I say we wait for Ponomarenko to wake up before we do anything.", Marchuk proposed.

"If he wakes up.", Nazarenko mocked, making Kulyk gulp.

"Shut the fuck up you lot...", Kulyk was about to order when Popova yelled over him.

"Oh shit... Incoming!"

Six consecutive grenades struck various parts of the old machine shop, sending dust, parts of the roof and splinters flying. The concussive power was immense, and the unexperienced soldiers found themselves yelling for help or just incoherently screaming. Nobody noticed two heavy exoskeletons march in, and when the explosions stopped, the ringing in their ears was deafening, but nowhere near as shocking as the two machine guns pointing at them. Boris had smacked Marchuk in the head and the conscript was now unconcious on the floor. Shvets, furthest from the door, was about to draw his gun, when a barrel pressed into his back.

"Let's not make hasty decisions. I'm not one to happily shoot the medic so keep that gun holstered and I may just stick to my principles.", Dima's voice cut like a freezing wind, and Shvets raised his hand quickly.

"Same to the rest of you. Guns down or we paint this place red. And you, acneface with the PKM, keep that hand off the radio or I'll sever it with this right here.", Boris said, pointing his RPD at Kulyk.

"Who the hell are you lot?", Popova asked.

"Redemption. We're here to get rid of the scum that you are too inept to clean. Now, I've got an offer for you. You see, those swamp-lovers in their little base absolutely despise you, and I can understand that, you lot should shower once in a while. They want you gone, and while they prefer the old blood and guts-kind of deal, I'm willing to give you an option. Leave this place this instant, and you get to keep your sorry asses.", Boris offered.

"We've got our or-", Kulyk began.

"Fuck the orders. Don't you see that these assholes will shoot us if we resist. What do you think Zhurov prefers more, losing this base and all the men here or losing the base but keeping one operational squad?", Ponomarenko, the wounded military stalker, shouted over the discussion, having woken up by the thunderstorm of grenade fire.

"Y-yes sir! Will fuck the orders, sir!", Kulyk shouted back, and Boris couldn't help but laugh a little.

"Fucking imbecil. Okay Redeemed, I take that offer. Keep the discount eggheads out of our asses and I'll take this smoothbrains back to Cordon, no funny business involved.", Ponomarenko said and rose to his feet with difficulty, almost collapsing back down until Shvets supported him.

The other men, even Marchuk who Boris woke back up with a splash from his water bottle, began a dash over the base to gather what supplies and personal belongings they'd want to evacuate. Shvets laid the wounded sergeant down on a crate and then went to fetch his medical kit. The military stalker waved for Boris to get closer. Stepukha and Dima went to make sure that the soldiers would not try anything in the other room.

"Listen. I know you and your faction. I don't respect many stalkers, that's why I took the military offer, but you I do respect. You've done good for a renegade. I know you're after those internationals, we saw them here, and that ought to keep you busy, but once you've dealt with them permanently, contact me on this frequency.", Ponomarenko whispered as Boris got closer, and handed him a piece of paper.

"Listen pal, I won't become a military stalker. If I wanted to be a bootlicker, I would've stayed with the bandits.", Boris scoffed.

"No, I don't mean that. I have a particular individual on the military high command in mind that needs removal. Of the permanent kind. I don't usually like doing this sort of thing, and I most certainly do not want to hire random stalkers or mercs to do it, but this time it is strictly necessary. But more details will only happen on that encrypted channel.", Ponomarenko explained, and Boris nodded.

He wasn't sure if he would take the military stalker's offer, but that was not important right now. As the soldiers began their march towards Cordon, Boris wrote a short message to Cold that the Machine Yard was theirs now. The Clear Sky leader replied quickly that Glowworm was on his way with another squad to reinforce it. Boris acknowledged this and slid the PDA back into his pocket. He turned his gaze towards the Tuzla tunnel. One last stronghold of foes remained. This time there would be no diplomacy involved with it, outside of that done with bullets and blood.