Author Notes:
UmU
I am glad to inform that the Warsaw war is officially ended on the latest Early Access chapter. Afterward, it will be peaceful development until someone raids the Eagle's Nest. In the meantime, other nations will be eager to fulfill their own agenda while the Belkan Reich take some time off.
This chapter comes out early because, you guess it, I couldn't sleep kek. Before you go ahead and enjoy the chapter, do allow me to thank you all once again for accompanying for another month! Cheers!
And don't forget, Monthly Recruitment Drive is available till the 25th as per usual!
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Night has fallen over Kraków. Yet, the ancient city is barred from a restful night. The sound of explosions and gunfire has never ceased since the first elements of the Rusviet Army entered the city. Instead, the war seems to intensify further, with flares and suppressive fire used in an overkill manner by both sides upon the first detection of a hostile in the darkened urban warzone.
Nighttime is the period when the meat grinder is truly turned on, even though both sides aren't adequately equipped for night fighting. This is all because the Rusviet Army is finding itself with an invisible deadline from Stalin himself. However, since illumination is severely lacking due to the nearly-nonexistent power grid of Kraków after days of fighting, the Rusviets are only able to slowly advance in areas they have already made sizeable footholds in. This translates to the Rusviets relaxing their attention on the farther corner of the ancient city, the West, having yet to establish a strong enough presence there due to an overstretched supply line. Ultimately, this has created just the opportunity General Talius needed to smuggle out an entire evacuation convoy.
Of course, not all Polanians agree with this clandestine, borderline traitorous maneuver of General Talius. But their objection is overruled in the face of absolute violence.
A stab to the heart, a cut across the throat, and a hand over the mouth to muffle any scream... A mercenary settles down the still warm corpse of a Polanian sentry, a juvenile conscript, with an unsettling grin on his face. Wiping his knife on the ruffled and unclean shirt of the dead conscript with eyes wide open, the mercenary then drags the corpse into a ditch by the side of the road. He then kicks a nearby pile of trash, creating a messy cover on the corpse. The conscript is barely older than the mercenary's son back home, yet the mercenary finds nothing but grim satisfaction in killing. It's no doubt a sign of mental instability, but really, that conscript shouldn't have been a sticker for wrongful zealotry and standing on the wrong side of, well, everything.
"Dembe, you are one sick bastard, you know that?" From the dark, another mercenary appears. Similarly, he bears a knife that is dripping fresh blood. "Could have knocked the kid unconscious."
"Guilty as charged." The one addressed as Dembe grins before sheathing his knife. "But really, dying at my hand is a mercy rendered. At the very least, it was quicker than the Rusviet alternative."
"I can't argue with that... Your side is clear?"
"All three sentries taken care of. And yours?
"Same as you. Which leaves the others yet to report in."
"I swear to God I will drive this knife up their collective asses if they somehow fuck up our once chance of getting out of this shithole."
The remaining mercenaries being trapped in Kraków aren't stupid. Even before General Talius planned for a night evacuation, the multi-national guns-for-hire had been eyeing the very vehicles General Talius is requisitioning for a quick getaway. And when the General had his people securing the vehicles and loading people and what precious war materials were left in Kraków onto the back of those same vehicles, the mercs immediately knew what was going on and boldly asked to hitch a ride. Since these mercs came to him with a wealth of battlefield experience and manpower, General Talius agreed to let them join the convoy, provided they help him remove some obstacles and protect the convoy till they all reach Katowice.
Eliminating the sentries and operating the Western gate of Kraków is but one part of this new contract the mercenaries undertook. The reward for completing the contract would be that the mercenaries get to preserve their life, and live to fight for another day, much better than mining in some godforsaken corner in the tundra or dying a dog's death.
Fortunately, Dempe's fear is unfounded, as the gears of the old gate building start turning, groaning as they spin to raise the two heavy steel gates. Eventually, when the gateway out of Kraków is wide open, more mercs come down to join the initial pair. One of them goes on to say.
"We jammed the whole thing. Unless someone set an explosive charge, those gates won't be going down anytime soon."
"What took you pricks so damn long?"
"Got more bodies down there than we expected. Would have gone loud if Jayne didn't wisen up and brought out some booze to distract them. They had some real shit down their throats before being sent to the other side."
"Heh. Nice improv. Come on, we need to signal the General. Any later, he would renege on that offer, and we'll be stuck walking."
A mercenary then brings out a torchlight, pointing it at a distant building before turning it on and off, relaying a Morse message. Moments later, the mercenary group hears the sounds of multiple heavy-duty engines, and the headlights of the lead vehicle of the convoy coming around a curb. It's a motley convoy, all things considered. Buses, trucks, and cars, many of which are commandeered civilian vehicles fitted with bolted-on steel plates and running on rough terrain wheels scavenged from who knows where. Only some vehicles in the convoy are of military descent, and are a mix of foreign black-market procurements and standard equipment. Few of which are armored cars and half-tracks, with each vehicle kitted out with all the automatic weapons General Talius managed to get a hand on.
In short, it's a Frankenstein sort of convoying, where they have to really work with the resources they have. The mercenaries look at each other with meaningful looks. If they have been wondering about the success chance of this evacuation, then they sure ain't anymore. General Talius' convoy comes off as more well-prepared than they expected. At the very least, it won't be a sitting duck against ambush and air attack. There's some protection and firepower between them and the Rusviets.
As the convoy speeds past, a truck comes to a stop in front of the mercenaries. The driver inside it, yet another gun-for-hire, but not one Dempe's group is familiar with, shouts from inside the driver's cabin.
"Oy! Get your bums onto the back, yeah!? Man those guns too while you're at it!"
Seeing this as General Talius keeping his word on securing them seats in the convoy, all the mercs start boarding, with Dempe coming up into the co-driver's seat, much to the driver's chagrin.
"The fuck did you get in here for, you wanker!?"
"I need to make sure you didn't end up driving off solo, shitface." Dempe replies with a grin before pulling out an M1911, resting it on his lap with the barrel pointed at the driver. "I may be a sicko, but I did raise my boy to be an honorable man. Can't set an example if I ended up ditching this contract because of you, you know, my man?"
"... Fucking Yankee."
Without further words, the driver steps on the pedal. The truck, to be more specific, the gun truck, rejoins the convoy of civilians and soldiers, now with mercenaries manning the two machine guns on the back of the bed. The bed, now modified with armor plates on the sides, offers the machine gunners additional protection as they guard the convoy's flanks for Rusviet ambush and even potential air strafe. The added weight surely put a degree of stress on the civilian-grade engine and transmission. But mobility is not exactly a hard requirement when the buses in the convoy have limited top speed anyway. Since they can't get out of harm's way fast enough, the engineers of General Talius make sure they all can take a couple of hits, at least.
Eventually, the last of the convoy, a half-track carrying with it a contingent of General Talius' personal unit, drives through the Western gate of Kraków. Fortunately or unfortunately, the remaining Polanian defenders in Kraków don't even realize the trusted General Talius has vacated his position with a great many critical assets until it's too late. Even if they had noticed it promptly, they wouldn't be able to effectively stop him. Not when a headless chain of command means that any and all inquiry will be met with absolute silence. That is the critical shortcoming those staying behind have to contend with, now that the Revolutionary Command Council exists only in name.
Suffice to say, General Talius has made a good choice to make himself and others scarce before it's too late. When the next morning came, the Rusviets really threw in everything, including the kitchen sink, at Kraków. The Rusviets will, in time, discover that they have lost contact with some of their Western units and patrols, and this will lead them to see that Kraków's Western gate is suddenly defenseless and open. Understandably, it's a great weakness the Rusviets will utilize, opening yet another front on a hopeless, outmatched ancient city, now left with not even enough munitions for half a day of fighting. Kraków will be like a naked princess whose guards have abandoned her to her fate, even going as far as gifting the key to the bandits.
The remaining zealots and hard-liners in Kraków will soon meet an end that ain't pretty in the annals of history, reduced to nothing but nameless criminals as the Rusviets will go on to be hailed as liberators and rightful avengers. However, will this mean that the Rusviet Army will not investigate why the city gate is left open? Of course not. Even the dumbest General in the Rusviet Army can see that someone has made a run for it to the West. That someone may very well be the Revolutionary Command Council themselves. So, of course, the Rusviets will task the most mobile force of its Army and Air Force to deploy in pursuit, hoping to make up lost time.
Although General Talius' convoy had been traveling all night, only stopping to pick up a few groups of injured Polanian soldiers along the way, the distance covered wasn't as vast as he would like. They had barely reached the halfway point between Kraków and Katowice, a distance that would have taken an hour at most in normal conditions. But this isn't normal conditions at all. Night driving, encumbered vehicles, the need to maintain a lookout for ambush... All of this took precious time.
Taking a look at his watch under the dim internal lighting of his command car, General Talius can only bite back a curse, and perhaps a prayer that may reach no one in particular. His face, pale due to prior exhaustion stacking with that of now, is a cause for concern for his son, who has been manning the enclosed gun turret in the center of the command car.
"General, do you require a refreshment?" The son crouches down from his position in the turret, looking at the General he serves with concern.
"I will be fine." General Talius says as the car continues to be driven along in the center of the convoy.
The road conditions are poor, however, which also contribute to the extended time it takes to get to Katowice, and the many bumps that leave even the most hardened soldiers sore all over. For General Talius, who has just recovered from an artillery wound earlier in this war, it's a veritable torture. Yet, it is a hellish journey he must undertake, if not for his own survival, then for his son's, and for others'.
"Get back on the turret, and keep your eyes peeled. It's still dark outside, but the sun will come up soon, and that is when the convoy is at its most vulnerable moment." The General reminds his son. "Captain Lusko and his Lieutenants paid the price in blood to eliminate the Rusviet checkpoints for us in advance. We can't fail their sacrifices now."
"You can count on me, Sir. I will not let slip a single threat." The son nods seriously before reassuming control of the gun turret, panning left and right to scan the sky and the ground to the best of his ability. The son's eyes are as bloodshot as many others in the convoy who have been entrusted with the lookout duty.
One can only hope that all of their preparations will not be for nothing. When dawn breaks, and the buzzing of propeller blades is heard, their steel and bodies will be put to the ultimate test.