"There he is," Ewa whispered, pointing excitedly.
"That isn't him," Isaac answered, "That's his second man. And he looks greatly annoyed."
Michaelis Pantermalis looked like he was pissed the hell off. He was angrily stomping down the street in Szcezcin. Polish was, however, a rather tame and polite language, which often made for understatements like Isaac's. Ewa turned to him.
"Should we still...?" she asked, leaving the question uncompleted.
Isaac was moving and suddenly lost his grip on the tree. Ewa grabbed him before he fell. Fear had struck him suddenly and he was breathing heavily.
"Thank you, Ewa," he whispered, "I think we still have to."
Isaac brought the sight of his conventional rifle to his eye. The Polish partisans were poorly equipped, and had almost no AS guns. When Pantermalis was in the crosshairs he stopped breathing and squeezed the trigger.
The silenced shot whistled quietly through the air but only struck one of Pantermalis' lieutenants. He swiveled around and saw the dead man, then he leapt to the ground to avoid further sniper bullets.
Isaac and Ewa were not stupid enough to try to shoot again. The bullets would be traced to their tree soon, even in the darkness of the night. They both slid down the tree and ran through the small patch of woods. They stopped behind a bush.
"I didn't get him," Isaac said.
"I know. I saw," the girl replied, "We'll have to blow up the base now, before the Easterners start sending out Partisan hunters."
"We have to tell the Allies that the timetable is moved up."
"You go. I can detonate their base."
Isaac nodded and took off like a shot through the woods. Ewa put her binoculars to her eyes. Pantermalis was pointing and yelling something. Eastern troops with the badge of the Partisan hunters on their uniforms were pouring onto the streets. She thanked the Lord that she had set the explosives earlier in the day so she wouldn't have to now.
She stalked through the woods, forfeiting speed for stealth. She saw the white apple blossom and stopped. Getting down on her knees she dug for a moment before hitting metal and pulling out the primitive plunger device from the soft earth. The wire stretched underground from the tree to the Eastern base. She pressed the plunger in. The still night was broken by an earth shattering explosion.
"Manuscripts don't burn"
- Mikhail Bulgakov
Hi, I'm horror and science fiction author Steve Kozeniewski (pronounced: "causin' ooze key.") Welcome to my blog! You can also find me on Facebook, Twitter, Goodreads, and Amazon. You can e-mail me here, join my mailing list here, or request an e-autograph here. Free on this site you can listen to me recite one of my own short works, "The Thing Under the Bed."
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