The door opens into a busy hallway, soldiers and associated personnel moving this way and that in the controlled chaos that precedes a battle. A few casts puzzled glances at Annabelle, but say nothing, noting how the blonde woman is being escorted by the Special Agent.

From her observation spot, Tanya surveyed the area: irregular rolling hills, three rivers running in deep beds, a road going southwards to Austria.

And of course, the Reds. Each end of each bridge was guarded, a large tent, a couple APC's, a dozen soldiers, a couple attack dogs... barbed wire. Not good.

Even worse with the Yak-9's flying patrols ( Read more... )

Gray was not exactly her color, Tanya decided, looking at herself in the full mirror. Of course, the uniform was tailored for her, and it did fit well, but she did not feel it was 'her'.

Schutzstaffel Oberleutnant Tanya Adams ( Read more... )

Three weeks had passed since tanya's group had left Berlin; the storm had abated after long twelve hours of the first day, just in time to give new heart to the refugees ( Read more... )

The landscape was a white vastness, a world without a horizon to separate the earth from the choking mist and clouds of the winter sky. The last few houses and buildings of the city lay half-buried by the snowdrifts of the last storm of winter that fell upon russian-occupied Berlin with an angry howl of sharp winds ( Read more... )

"We survive by being flexible; soviet conscripts only learn to fight in battle lines, and we use our city to break it. We attack, we retreat, we move around and strike from the sides. And we run away. Red Army soldiers who run away from the battle line are shot. Resistance fighters who run away from bad odds live to fight another day."

Silence ( Read more... )