025. The Crowded Bunker

"How is everybody?" Andrei hurriedly stepped out of the elevator as the door opened to the side.
"DSE ans STJ sent help by air," an elderly southeast asian answered. "And thanks to the nine corpses, we have managed to create plenty of antitoxin. All of our brothers have regained consciousness. They will be ready to rejoin the task after Etherys finishes the final scan."
"Etherys the ashüruss?" Andrei seemed puzzled. "Does Moscow grant permission for an interdimensional being to be here, Kusuma?"
"You and Konstantin asked me, a pensioneer, for help. So I help OCK to learn to cooperate with other beings. The treatment is a success thanks to the collaboration between humans, ashürusses and élewathis," the man who was no other than Kusuma casually revealed. "With limited medical tools in this place, I doubt our brothers could see another day."
"The bunker never had so many patients before," Andrei countered.
"Sometimes you need to fall to see things from a different point of view," Kusuma concluded. His gaze shifted toward the young man standing anxiously behind Andrei. "Ah! You're still alive, Dmitry!"
"I didn't expect you to test me, Mr. Wardhani," the young man said while nodding respectfully.
"Well now you know what it feels like to be a new member of Division 96," Kusuma laughed as he patted Dmitry's shoulder repeatedly.
"What I've done is nowhere near the quality of Division 96, Mr. Wardhani," the young man countered. "I let Miss Morozova get wounded while protecting me."
"Then tell her you're sorry," the elderly man nonchalantly said. Exactly as he pointed toward a chamber, the large opaque glass door slided open.
A young woman with blond hair braided in cornrows walked out. She held a jacket in her hand, her white shirt has a big blood stain below her left armpit.
Without wasting any moment, Dmitry approached the woman and kneel in front of her. He hung his head in shame and regret, like a boy admitting his mischief.
"I deeply apologize, Miss Morozova," he said. "I am ready for whatever punishment you deem fit for a useless soldier like me."
Anna was stunned. Surprise was evident on her face. Her blue eyes remain fixed on the young man, unblinking. But she quickly clenched her gaping mouth and regained her composure.
"Get up, Shithead!" she hissed. "This is not middle ages and you're no longer a part of the military!"
"My mistake has put your life in danger," Dmitry insisted. "Give me a chance to redeem, Miss Morozova."
"Alright then," a mischievous glint reflected in her eyes as Anna said that. "Use my first name when you speak to me and don't you ever cut your hair like a soldier again. Do those two things and we're even."
Dmitry tilted his head andd looked at her with a mix of surprise and disbelief.
"That's it?" Those words slipped his mouth.
"Oh, you want more?" Anna playfully acted as if she was thinking. "You have to buy me lunch from Zhuravlina when all of this is over."
"I'm being serious here, Miss Morozova," Dmitry protested.
"Do I look like I'm joking?" the woman fiercely countered. "Haven't I told you to call me Anna? I'll call you shithead forever if you keep on calling me like I'm some kind of a kindergarten teacher!"
Instantly, everyone in the bunker laughed heartily. Their laughter was so loud that several opaque glass doors were almost simultaneously opened.
"Can we treat the wounded in peaceful silence?" a deep female voice scolded, instantly stopped every laughter. "Why are you all gathered here like rats in the winter? Aren't you supposed to track the menace that caused all of these?"
Dmitry's eyes widened as he saw the figure who spoke those words. In front of a treatment chamber, dressed in white lab coat, a tall and slender woman stood. Her skin was bluish gray scales like a reptile. Her face was almost flat with two small holes as nose and two big yellow eyes with a pupil resembling that of a snake.
"Sorry about that, Etherys," said Andrei, then quickly shifted his attention to all members of the OCK in the bunker. He revealed his strategy and ordered them to join the others in Karabash.
"Are you coming?" Anna asked Dmitry as she wore her jacket, getting ready to rejoin the mission.
"He will stay with me," Andrei stated.
Anna lifted her shoulder, then looked back to Dmitry. "Don't you dare forget my three requests, soldier boy!"
"Yes… Anna," Dmitry hesitantly called the woman by her first name.
With a subtle smile, Anna then left the bunker through the emergency exit, following the others. Just as the wall closed, Sergei got out of a treatment chamber.
"Still alive eh, old boy?" Kusuma greeted the man.
"Thanks, Kusuma." In his thirties, Sergei looked like a rock musician with his skinny jeans, boots and leather jacket. He was tying his shoulder length hair when his eyes met with Dmitry's.
"Good morning, Mr. Kramnik," the young man greeted.
Instead of replying, Sergei swiftly landed a punch at Dmitry's stomach. The young man was aware of the oncoming attack but instead of flinching, he decided to receive it, muscles tensed up. The sound of knuckle hitting flesh echoed in the room, followed by Sergei's chuckles as he patted the young man's shoulder.
"Welcome to the team, my friend," he kissed both of Dmitry's cheeks. "Anna won't shut up about your exploit in Karabash last night. I'm so glad Kusuma's test didn't kill you."
"I still have the knack of judging people's potential, old boy," the elderly man chimed in. "Leaving so soon?"
"Yep. Staying in the treatment room makes me lose my mind. I dreamed of Olga crying next to me for hours." Sergei wiped his face.
"It's not a dream," Kusuma denied. "She did cry for hours, begging for you to wake up."
Sergei was taken aback by the revelation. He was stunned with surprise and disbelief clearly etched on his face.
"It's better this way," Andrei spoke. "She won't nag to join the task with her current condition and even if she would, I have a good reason to keep her here."
Hearing that, Sergei's expression showed relief. "Any task for me, boss?"
"Join Anna and others in Karabash," Andrei commanded. "I will escort two honorable guests to aid us in this wretched case."
"Who's coming?" Sergei asked as he zipped his jacket.
"Oswald Wheatley and Bayu Adiwira."