Characteristic
Cost
END
Cost
12
Cost
5
Cost
| Counter-Weapon | 1/2 | -1 | -1 | Disarm, 60 STR to Disarm; FMove |
| Dodge | 1/2 | -- | +5 | Dodge, Affects All Attacks, Abort |
| Knee Kick | 1/2 | +2 | -1 | 11d6 Strike, Target Falls |
| Moving Attack | 1/2 | +1 | +0 | 10d6 +v/5; FMove |
| Punch/Snap Kick | 1/2 | +0 | +2 | 12d6 Strike |
| Reversal | var | -1 | -2 | 65 STR to Escape; Grab Two Limbs |
| Snatch | 1/2 | -2 | -1 | Grab Two Limbs, 60 STR for holding on; FMove |
| Subdual Joint Throw | 1/2 | +1 | +0 | Grab One Limb; 6d6 NND ; Target Falls |
| +5 HTH Damage Class(es) | |||||
Cost
10
10
3
3
3
3
1
5
3
[Notes: Custom Mod is Everyman Skill]
2
2
3
3
3
-5
5
[Notes: Russian Dawn Package]
[Notes: Russian Dawn Package]
3
3
3
7
10
15
15
10
10
5
15
15
15
1
1
1
1
1
5
5
10
15
1986
"I am the enemy of the people of Russia..." It was said in a whisper, but sounded to him like the roar of a jet engine. As Kolya hung upside-down from the underside of the bridge over Bolshaya Nevka, he had thought about the words of the man whom he had flung in the water. And a realization came over him. It was a hard realization that tore apart the very core of his reason for being.
The snow had started up again, luckily just a light drift and with little wind. Looking below, he could see the hole that he had made when he dropped Dr. Kapitsa into the thin early December ice. The agent of the KGB, Nikolai Pavlovich Khanurov, known as the Sweeper, twisted his feet, unhooking them
from the rails. Then he kicked off as hard as he could into the frigid water. He would need a good deal of momentum as the bag that contained the physicist had in it several large rocks and was likely sitting on the muddy bottom by now.
The cold stung like a million pinpricks, but he continued to kick through the murky water, holding his breath. The words of his KGB operator barked through his mind like a virulent chihuahua, "Your target is Dr. Vladimir Grigoriyevitch Kapitsa. He is a counter-revolutionary trying to discredit the nuclear energy program set in place by the Politburo to bring more energy and greater glory to the Soviet Union. He must be eliminated before his lies cause international disfavor and incite bourgeouis counter-revolutionary problems within the nation. How you eliminate him is your choice, but it must either be a disappearance or appear to be an
accident."
Then, the soft-spoken voice of the physicist played in Kolya's thoughts. The scientist rendered the reality of the disaster at Chernobyl in plain Russian with little jargon. His explanation was clear and with great logic. The man didn't fight, didn't resist his captor, but only wanted to inform him. And he was right... Only it had taken time for Kolya to comprehend it all, and by then, he had already carried out the mission.
He was right in his prediction as to where the bag would fall, only his estimate of the depth of the river was too small. The polyester bag tore easily - easily enough for a superagent, at least - and he swam to the surface towing with him Dr. Kapitsa. Resuscitating the man would be the hard part, but at least there was a chance. Getting him out of Leningrad in the dead of night... that would be the easy
part.
2006
Kolya strode across the clearing, snow that would have crunched under anyone else's boots gently slid noiselessly as, even subconsciously, he walked like a snow leopard. This was the Altai, and the village was not far at all from his home of Kosh-Agach. The people here were proud and there would be little in the way of trouble to the Security Advisor. So, he aided the efforts mostly by translating for the older folk who spoke little Russian. He wouldn't be able to bill the Red Cross much, but then again, he never did. That's not why he worked for such organizations.
The earthquake was not tremendous on the scale of disasters, but the village was not well constructed. After helping an octogenarian to the Red Cross's triage tent, he looked up in the sky at the fast moving object. A helicopter, certainly, but not a regular one. It was too
sleek and high tech for his liking. But it did have the red-white-and-blue emblem of the Russian Federation and another emblem that he recognized. A feeling arose in his gut. Not trouble, at least for the Red Cross and the villagers, but he should be sure anyway.
"Does the helicopter have the proper clearance signature?" Kolya called over the short range radio.
The communications officer replied, "Yes. It is bearing a general of the FSB... General -"
"I know the man," Kolya replied, cutting the man off mid-sentence, and signed off. He muttered to himself as he walked to where the helicopter was touching down, "and he's not here to help the people..."
A tall man with blonde hair stepped down from the craft, spouting before him puffs of air that quickly condensed in the chill. A smile spread across the man's face, but Kolya did not immediately respond likewise.
If circumstances were different, perhaps...
"Nikolai Pavlovich," the man said with familiarity and respect. A firm hand clasp was followed by a bear hug. "It has been a while since you extricated me and my men in Afghanistan when we were drawn into the salient of a hedgehog at Pol-e-Khomri.... a long time since I have had to order soldiers to fire upon you and Dinamo in the Kremlin... shorter still since you and I stood together with the army in 1991 to support Yeltsin in Moscow,... but yet a long time."
"Indeed, Aleksandr Sergeivich, it has been a long time," Kolya returned the bear hug. He pointed at the general's star on the other's collar, saying, "And you have done well for yourself."
"Ahh, Kolya, but you still look as young as when I first met you. Perhaps I can exchange a star for forty years."
The two men laughed heartily and then there was silence. At
last, Nikolai broke the silence, "Aleksi, I know who you are now - what you are. And I know that you do not want to talk to Kolya, but to Spartak. Before you say anything that I need to refuse, let me remind you that the last time that I worked for a government - any government - was twenty years ago...
"General Ivanov," Kolya said, putting strong emphasis on the man's ranks, "it was the government that told me what to drink and made me into what I am now and took me away from the game. It was the government that told me what to think and had me kill their enemies..."
But the director of Russia's superhero team interrupted. "Kolya, that government is long gone now. Something different is in its place..
"It is Russia that needs your skills and knowledge. There are threats to the Rodina - the Kinder, Organizatsiya, Oktyabr... It is the people of Russia that need Spartak to make things better."
After the defeat of the professional Soviet hockey team to the amateur American team in the 1980 Olympics, the Politburo ordered the Sports Bureau to do something. Nearly all the Eastern Bloc athletes soon became guinea pigs for physical enhancement. The majority were boosted with steroids. Nikolai Khanurov, an up-and-coming rookie playing for Spartak Moskva was given something else concoted by Professor Otto von Harz. Using notes from Nazi scientists who were coopted by the Soviet Union at the end of World War II, Professor Harz modified the 'uber-soldier serum' with steroids and other substances into Formula 8Beta4. Of the ten athletes given 8Beta4, two showed no response, two others died of cardia arrhythmias, four suffered from unexplained severe
atrophy. Of the two that showed great physical enhancement, one died within a year during training, and there was Kolya. At that time, he was deemed to be too valuable to continue as a mere football player. He was given training as a superagent.
While Spartak is not as powerful or speedy as some high level uberhumans, he is quite a bit stronger and faster than normal humans. Because of this, he went through rigorous and extensive training in hand-to-hand combat and infiltration techniques which puts him on par with many uberhumans.
On those occasions when he wears a costume, Spartak wears a deep red tight shirt along with gray city camouflage pants and jacket, a black leather belt, a navy blue mask, and a pair of black boots. On other occasions he could be wearing practically anything, especially when in disguise.