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They moved swiftly, silently, with purpose, under a crystalline, star-filled night in western Siberia.  They were Muslims, though one could scarcely have know it from their speech, which was Russian, though inflected with the singsong Azerbaijani accent that wrongly struck the senior members of the engineering staff as entertaining.  The three of them had just completed a complex task in the truck and train yards, the opening of hundreds of loading valves.  Ibrahim Tolkaze was their leader, though he was not in front.  Rasul was in front, the massive former sergeant in the MVD who had already killed six men this cold night - three with a pistol hidden under his coat and three with his hands alone.  No one had heard them.  An oil refinery is a noisy place.  The bodies were left in the shadows, and the three men entered Tolkaze's car for the next part of their task.
-Tom Clancy, Red Storm Rising