Dimitri Igoumensita sleepily pulled his overcoat on. He looked at the man next to him. When the sleep cleared out of his eyes he recognized the man.
"Pantermalis. So you survived. I understand a terrible hand to hand battle went on for Berlin. You held out well. The gods were looking kindly on you."
The other Greek nodded dourly, hating the man for clinging to his superstition. Igoumensita smiled broadly and clapped the other man on the back.
"I knew you would," he said, "I'm sorry I had to act so harshly. I know it really wasn't your fault you lost. I had been intending to leave you in Berlin to let the army escape anyway."
Pantermalis nodded.
"And make me kill the civilians?"
He sounded sick and quiet.
"Well...we had to give the Boches a good reason to want their capital back more than chopping us up as we ran away, didn't we?"
Pantermalis nodded.
"You're never going to trust me again, are you?"
Pantermalis shook his head.
"A shame. I've lost a friend, but I've gained a far better general. You should have a real stomach for battle now. Join me in a drink, will you?"
"Thank you, no," Pantermalis whispered dryly.
Igoumensita nodded.
"Well then, general, please leave for Poland immediately. I had a dream last night that the Eastern Bloc was attacked by the Allies through Poland. I couldn't speak or move, only watch. I've got a terrible feeling that it will come true."
Pantermalis was staring with subdued hatred at his commander.
"Omens, portents, talismans, you believe in all of them, you idiot! Since you believe, I curse you. You will know defeat."
All his spirit within him raging Michaelis Pantermalis turned and left the room.
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