Within a week, the Russians had secured the entire city, but not the people. Feliks' platoon was out on the streets of downtown Seattle. There had been reports of a major protest near an occupied shop, one of the designated points for the locals to receive their rations. The people were demanding that the Russians leave, and threw rocks and occasionally, ones who managed to sneak a firearm past the door to door inspections, would open fire at the soldiers.
Private Vitaly aimed his AK-12 to the floor, and had in on safety as him and his patrol moved forwards to the rioting mess that was downtown Seattle. Behind them was one of the many newly arrived GAZ Vodniks, but it was halted by the swarm of people blocking the roads. One of the protesters, armed with a metal pole stared Feliks down, who was already overwhelmed with intense anxiety. They locked eyes, and the man started taunting him, as he started to walk over to him.
He switched his rifle off of safety, and raised it.
"Don't come any close, I will shoot!" Feliks threatened with shaky hands.
"C'mon then you piece of shit, shoot me!" the man said back as he lifted his chin and walked faster.
"Shoot him, Vitaly" the squad leader said with a chillingly calm tone.
With a racing heart, Vitaly put his finger on the trigger and looked down the iron sights of his rifle...
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