“Khalid Bishop,” the stern faced guard said to the man in the cell, sitting straight upright, staring at the wall with a malevolent grin on his face.

His appearance was clean despite his cell being is disarray, the stone walls and floor cracked and stained from years and years of inmates coming and going. The well built man in his 50s knew exactly what the guard was going to tell him, he’d known the moment would come since he’d arrived there only a couple months earlier.

“Field Marshal...you are being released. Come with us please.” The guard muttered quietly, as another unlocked the cell and opened the gate.

“I told you Sergeant, I always win.” Khalid said as he stood up, and the grin on his face turned into a sneer as he walked confidently with the guards out of the cell and down the corridor.

The prisoners in the cells above and below began to chant and cheer, for lots of them were his men that he’d commanded. As he strode down the steps to the office where his release paperwork was, the men began to recite the military songs they’d learn by heart from the many they’d followed into hell and back. For he did the work that no one else would, he rid the world of the enemies of humanity with impunity. He sat down in front of the man who’d watched over him for those months, a man who watched back in disbelief as the mass murdering terrorist was signing his release paperwork. Khalid sat back in his seat, and they laid his uniform out in front of him. Still engulfed in countless medals and awards from multiple nations, he picked his uniform up and went into the office restroom to change.

“How can they release him?! They know what he’s done.” The supervisor asked his colleague in panicked Russian, who also sat, blank-faced in his own confusion.

“I...I don’t know. I honestly don’t.” He responded, shaking his head as he looked at the other prisoners cheering and chanting. “Shut them the fuck up.”

Khalid stepped out of the doors out into the crisp icy Siberian air, and began his stride across the vast courtyard where a military helicopter had landed for him. He walked with a steady stride, slow and methodical as he had for years and years, a stride that men women and children alike had grown to fear before his incarceration, a stride that was trailed by the shadow of death. He had proven without a doubt, that he was above even international law. There was no one on Earth to stop him, not that anyone would dare do so at this point. By now, his men who had forced the hands of the international community would receive confirmation that he was a free man, and that he had beat the highest bidder in the land. There was nobody to stop him. As the towering iron gates to the massive Cold-War era prison opened up, his soldiers saluted him, rifles slung across their chests at the ready as the Russian built MI-35 Hind gunship kicked up the snow around them. He saluted them back, and quickly they all climbed back into the aircraft that began to whine loudly as the engines were accelerated for the take off. Khalid stepped onto the small staircase and held onto the handle above and watched the prison warden and the guard, still painted with the hopeless looks as the gunship lifted slowly off the ground and climbed into the icy air. He wanted them to see his eyes, and know it was the last time they’d ever see him again. As the Lyubevny Military prison sunk into the distance, Khalid climbed inside and closed the doors, which began to warm the helicopter considerably.

“Field Marshal, it’s an honor to have you back.” Colonel Voychek, his second in command said warmly as he held out Khalid’s custom made handgun, the marble polished grip and the chrome plating in pristine condition as if it’d never been touched since he’d had it made.

“I knew I could rely on you Colonel.” He said happily, cupping the Colonel’s face in his hands.

“What’s the plan now sir?”

“First? First I want you to find all those motherfuckers that got me put in that cell, and let them know I’m back. As for me, I must find my dear family. I know they miss me.”