A Russian, and his thick accent could attest to that. What he looked like, nobody knew because he constantly wore a full-bodied black racing suit, a full-faced black helmet, and black gloves and boots. He even wore a black cape because, with it, his outfit reminded him of Darth Vadar, a villain from one of his favorite childhood movies. He could tell that the image struck fear into those he fought against, so, he leaned into it all the way, and he wore it everywhere.
The sandstone crunched under his boots as he climbed the cliff, ascending to a nook hidden by a shelf of rust colored caliche. Behind him, following close behind, scurried a skinny man dressed in tattered and bloodstained clothing, as where Demitri climbed with sure footing, the other guy tripped and slipped from time to time. In the distance, machine guns clacked and clattered, and mixed with the sound of a heavy autocannon.
“Where are we going, boss?” the skinny one asked.
“I heard there is a secret stash up on this cliff,” Demitri answered in his thick Russian accent. “And, if I can find it, that’s where we’re going.”
A couple of hours passed as they climbed around the cliffs of the Blood Rocks, and so too did the sun climb high and whip the desert winds along working them up with a series of dust-devils whirling and sweeping across the sands. One of them, not too far away, seemed to be working its way closer and closer to the duo who scurried around the sandstone walls.
“Hey, boss! You think we should take some cover and let these whirlwinds pass by?”
“I’m already covered,” Demitri answered referring to his outfit.
“What about me?!” The little man yelled over the sound of the rising wind.
“You should have thought about covering up before coming along!”
Sand and small rocks started pelting the two men, and the little one began hollering from the sting of it all. Demitri instantly took pity on the guy, and he extended his cape out and around them both to shield from the hot sand-blast. “Keep it down! I think we’re close.” Then, mixed in with the sound of the sands and rocks being blown around, Demitri could hear the distinct and unmistakable sound of sheet-metal flapping and clapping in the wind. “I think it’s just above us on the next ledge.”
The two hunkered down for the next couple of minutes to let the brace of dust-devils pass them by and, as soon as they could, they leaped up to the next ledge. There it was, a makeshift door that covered an opening in the cliff, DANGER and KEEP OUT had been stenciled onto it. Demitri thought twice before opening it and, instead, ordered his tag-along to do the honors. “You open it,” he said as stepped aside and out of the way.
“With pleasure…” the crony said as he reached for the door and swung it open.
Everything inside said that these two rough-and-tumble men were in the wrong place, everything from the colorful clothing to the bras and panties that littered the alcove said that this place belonged to a woman. In a cornered space there lay a pile of clothing that looked to be nested and slept in. It even had a few stuffed animals, torn and tattered as they were, set at one end to be used as pillows.
“Boss? What kind of stash did you mean to find up here?”
Demitri pushed passed and took a look around, and he answered, “Janka, the washer, mentioned to me that Diesel keeps ammo stashed with her underwear,” and he smiled to see all the underwear strewn around the enclosure. “I think we’ve found the right place.”
His cohort picked up a strip of pink polka-dotted cloth and placed it over his head to cover one eye, “Hey! This makes a good eyepatch!”
Demitri turned and chuckled as he swiped it off the guy’s head, “That’s a good way to give yourself pink-eye.”
“Pink-eye? What’s that?”
“That’s an infection from getting poop in your eyes.” Demitri answered plainly, then, he held up the cloth to his nose and took deep sniff, and gave a deep sigh as he said, “These, my friend, are panties, and it’s a good thing they’ve been washed, otherwise you’d be infected soon.” He pocketed the underwear in his back pocket and started to look around. “Start looking for ammunition…we might not have much time.”
A good hour went by as they burgled around but, unfortunately, they found no ammunition whatsoever. They, too, had overstayed their welcome because, before they knew it and without warning, the door to the alcove opened up to throw L.A.'s C-cupped shadow against the opposite wall.
“Home, sweet home,” she mumbled. Her shirt had been blasted to tatters from a random skirmish with a lance-toting Mustang but, thankfully, her bra remained intact.
Dimitri and his friend jumped with a start, and they turned tail just as quickly to shove passed her, running out as fast as they could. Diesel was just as surprised, and she gave out a quick, gravely scream with a slight jump, and the quick jostling caused a couple bullets to be rattled loose from her bra. She folded her arms, more to keep the ammo from hitting the ground rather than to cover her breasts from the intruders’ as they pushed by. She immediately recognized Demitri, and her fright turned to ire and, still covering up with one arm, she raised a fist and shook it at him with a curse, watching him scurry down the cliffs, and dropping panties to the ground every step of the way. The other guy she could care less about, it was Demitri who had her attention and, as he tripped over a set of frilled undies, his footing slipped and he fell to tumble down the rest of the way. Undergarments flew in every direction, and Diesel laughed at him maniacally. “That’s right!” she said loudly, “That’s what you get! And, don’t come back!” she yelled out. Once they had fled a considerable distance, Diesel set to climbing, hopping up and down and back up the cliff gathering everything they dropped in their hasty retreat. She noticed that it was all underwear and bras, and she muttered, “Panty sniffers!” Little did she know how on-the-nose her comment had been.