Holding Oath

The hum of the trucks engine was loud enough to be unsafe for some of the operations it was used for. The sound of a jeep in front of the truck hurred into the ears of the soldiers in the back of the truck.

Siemowit sat at the further most corner from the exit directed to the back. Holding his service rifle and his rosary beads in hand. He uttered prayers for safety, lo not for him but for the other soldiers, albeit was possibly going to cost him dearly.

The crunch of the gearstick being switched from gear to gear reached the soldiers ears. Some let out moans of displeasure, some just stayed silent. None spoke.

Our father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, protect the men around me and allow them safe passage through this war, allow them place by your side and allow them into your embrace, Siemowit prayed through his mind while holding his rosary beads, Allow them to return to their family’s and let not death come to them this day or any other, allow them all to live life of fullness and plenty, in the name of the father, son, and holy spirit, amen.

He continued to repeat the prayer through his mind and mutter it lightly. He was known to be one of the best of the army, but also one of the most religious and scientific. Sometimes other soldiers alienated him for being so pious. But other times they would embrace his scientific ideas.

A soldier offered a flask of vodka and whiskey to Siemowit, he looked up at the soldier. The man in question looked rather worn by age, he had wrinkles from age and possibly worry.

"Drink some boy, it's the last chance you will have," he said, shaking the flask softly from side to side.

Siemowit reached a hand forward and grabbed the other side of the flask, then pulled it slowly back towards himself. He'd tasted the liquid inside before, whiskey and vodka weren't all too nice together.

He placed the flask to his lips and took a drink. He then passed the flask back to the soldier in front of him.

"Thanks," he muttered.

The soldier smiled and nodded but once, he then offered another soldier the flask. It was sort of a custom among the soldiers, if you have a drink you might as damn well share it, because it may just be someone’s last drink.

Siemowit leaned back on the cold piece of wood that was used as a seat for everyone in the back of the truck. The hulking vehicles engine coughed and spluttered to a complete halt.

The soldiers alongside Siemowit moaned as they picked up their rifles and kit and exited off the back of the truck. The pain of walking the next fifteen miles to camp through burnt villages and towns was annoying to any soldier.

“I hate this Blyat!” one of the soldiers shouted.

The crunching of the snow underfoot was slightly annoying. But the feel of the cool breeze was wonderful. It made some of the soldiers upset when they had to walk for so long but the nice breeze might have loosened their mood.

Siemowit sighed when he looked around. The army was informed that they had switched sides and were now fighting the axis about two months ago, and boy did Germany and Hitler do a number on the towns nearby the border.

Burnt buildings that were bare standing where they were built were a haunting reminder of what had happened to the people, how they suffered and what caused it.

Siemowit shivered in his boots from the thought, before this war was because a world power wanted to stop the pain of this world, and create a Shangri-La. But then they started an unstoppable war.

Each crunch was accompanied by the ever present feeling of a gun being pointed directly at the person who took said step. A soldier let out a shaky breath, he ran his hand down the barrel of his gun and gripped it.

"Keep walking, there's nothing to see men," The soldier at the further front of the group called.

Siemowit looked down the street as the fifteen or so soldiers passed it, a sniper shot rang out. The man in front of Siemowit fell.

"Sniper!" Shouted one of the soldiers further in front of Siemowit.

Another shot rang out as Siemowit ran back to the end of the other side of the street mouth. More shots broke the silence of the icy place they were in. Five men were down, this guy was good.

Two others had managed to get to Siemowit's side, the rest had reached the opposite part of the road. The whole world went quiet, the sound itsself had died.

The soldier most visible waved his hand at Siemowit, motioning him to hold something out to see if the Sniper had a twitchy finger. Siemowit nodded and turned back to the two soldiers behind him, he pointed to one.

"Give me your helmet," He said.

The soldier removed his helmet and passed it to Siemowit, although the pious and scientific soldier was more trained to shoot first and ask questions later, he was an excellent thinker. He was a planner of sorts, way out of his element as a foot soldier. Most of his superiors had told him that he should have enlisted as an officer rather than a foot soldier.

Siemowit held the helmet out a little, just at his head level, to make as though he was leaning out to get a look at the street. Siemowit made sure to quickly jolt the helmet back for a second, as though he was being cautious. He then leaned it out. A shot rang out.

The bullet pierced right through the helmet, the sniper wasn't a fool with a nervous twitch. Siemowit signaled for one of the soldiers across the road to give him cover fire, one nodded.

Siemowit took a moment to think of how exactly he should move down the road. He was planning on taking down a sniper, elite too and that was not going to end well if he had no plan. The man that was going to cover him had brackish chestnut hair, it looked well clean, washed even combed. If he wasn't in his uniform you could never have told that the man had taken more shrapnel to his torso, arms and legs than there are metal casings in four clips of a Kalashnikov, Type 56. The sheer determination in that man to live through having his friend blown up just three meters in front of him, and taking most of the metal was just amazing.

The semi-auto the man was holding still had the safety on, it was hard to tell from the distance but it seemed 'slacker Joe' had missed the fact his gun wasn't going when he leaned out of cover. Luckily the sniper had missed the shot, hitting the wall and blowing a piece of bricking off the wall and kicking up a large amount of snow.

The gun must've been massive, at least a .303, a monster of a gun, in the war these guns were overpowered, sometimes they’d cause a man to have his entire head to explode, but a sniper with a .303 was unheard of. The round blew a hole the size of a man’s head in the wall, one of the causes the hole was so big was probably because of the fire damage to it.

"Holy Blyat!" The soldier shouted.

A snicker could be heard very lightly from one of the soldiers behind him, he stood back up and switched the safety off. He was about to do a blind fire when a thought struck Siemowit. What if there are two snipers? He raised his hand to stop the soldier from possibly making a most likely fatal mistake. He then signaled for him to remove his helmet.

He then mouthed the words "Do exactly what I do."

The soldier removed his helmet and copied Siemowit, holding it as though he were leaning out slightly. The bullet almost blew the helmet to pieces. Siemowit's helmet had less of an effect, but he also had another thought.

How on earth are they that dumb? How is it possible to fall for the same trick twice?

His suspicions were confirmed there were more than one sniper, one had a higher powered rifle than the other. Siemowit signaled the soldier to get ready to cover him, the man was a little more careful this time, Siemowit dropped his pack so he could move faster.

"Vincent, cover me," Siemowit said.

"I got your back," Vincent replied, readying himself.

Siemowit tensed his shoulders, he was about to do something possibly insane, and deadly. Siemowit dashed for the other side of the street, the two soldiers leaned out and fired their weapons, Siemowit ran to one of the buildings that were still standing. He kicked the door in and scrambled into the entrance way.

He was safe for the moment, but he was in more danger than when he was in the street. When he had scrambled into the building he had tripped and landed on his belly. He slowly stood, the building he had entered looked to be a bakery. It had a glass counter, broken and everywhere. A cabinet hung half open, the door was on its bottom hinge, hanging on for dear life on to the string of safety it had left.

One of the strange things about this particular cabinet was the fact it had a half smashed backing. It was obviously false, but it had a safe behind it.

Why on earth would you put your safe in a place like that? Siemowit thought.

He turned around, meeting face to face, a Nazi special operative. The German was dressed in a leather coat and mask. He hit Siemowit over the head with a bottle and grabbed his back, then rammed him into the wall.

When Siemowit regained his composure he swung at his attacker who had managed to get the drop on him. The blow was too quick for the German to dodge. It connected solidly with his temple. The German stumbled back a few steps holding his head. He hadn't expected that. The crunch of broken glass revealed the second one in the building.

Siemowit spun around and smashed in the German’s nose with his elbow. He then kicked up the small stool nearby, the first one lunged. Siemowit used the stool to smash the special operative square in the head. He fell to the floor limp.

The other one grabbed Siemowit's pistol and aimed it at his head. Siemowit had no time to react. The German pulled the trigger.

Click.

Siemowit's hand had been resting on a magazine on his waist, he grabbed hold of it to give his punch extra force. It almost destroyed the man's head. The German dropped the on the floor as he fell backwards with a caved in face.

Siemowit wasn't too strong, but he was able to break a man’s neck as one would break a branch of a tree. It wasn't too hard, but still it was hard enough for him to fight and win. But the punch he had delivered had all his force plus room and a magazine full of rounds of ammo.

That all equals to the amount of force it took to cave that man's face in with a single punch. Fortunately there was only a few other Spec Op Nazi soldiers within the building.

The creak of a board in the hallway assured him that there was more than two. Siemowit looked at the hallway.

One He thought.

The man was carrying a large metal pipe, about as long as his arm. He bolted towards Siemowit. The Russian soldier dodged the swing with ease, and retaliated with a kick to the man's pelvic area. He fell down and coughed a few times.

Siemowit had studied several languages in school before he had joined the war effort, and before the war even began. He had learned Spanish, English, French and even German. So when the man insulted him, he knew what he was saying.

Siemowit loaded his pistol and fired three rounds into the man's head. Five more came out of nowhere, they were dispatched as easily. Just empty the magazine into the soldiers and watched them fall. The casings tinkled on the ground.

Siemowit then reloaded the magazine, he'd managed to think of there being more soldiers than just two snipers at the end of a street. Now all he had to do was get to the snipers.

But the fact was when dealing with snipers you were dealing with some pretty well equipped individuals that could turn your head to pink mist at a hundred paces.

Siemowit cracked his neck and walked to the other side of the counter. The second Special Operative was there, lying with a spattered face. Blood pooled around him. The man was definitely dead.

Siemowit crouched down and opened the man’s coat, it had a small slip in it. Most likely orders, a map, several times and how long the stay would be. Nothing too important. But enough to get a location on the snipers into a more narrow slip.

Siemowit opened the finely written letter, it wasn't orders, this wasn't the man in charge. Usual Sneak attacks have the man in command attack second, rarely first and never after third. Two was the lucky number in most cases.

The letter was written in German, most likely something of great sentimental import.

Heh not anymore Siemowit thought.

He placed the letter back in the man’s coat. He then walked over to the first, no luck with that one. Finally he walked over to the third, still nothing. It was odd, and on the off chance the one in command was a sniper. But it was more unlikely than it would be if Siemowit was Santa Clause.

Siemowit walked over and searched the other bodies until he found one with orders on him. They were written in German, Siemowit may have taken classes in speaking German, but reading it was another thing entirely.

"Herr Operatives, You are assigned to the town of," Siemowit scratched his head, it was harder to read the town name in German, "There are to be two snipers, place them in a discreet location, Failure to protect the contents of the package within is not optional, Burn these orders after you memorize them."

Siemowit pocketed the orders, and searched the man again, he had a small note in his opposite pocket with two numbers on it.

"Thirty seven, twenty five," Siemowit memorized the numbers.

The numbers were addresses of buildings that Siemowit assumed to contain the snipers, they may also just be numbers scribbled down on paper. But the likely was the former. Now the only problem was getting to the snipers.

A semi automatic weapon went off. Seems another soldier was to go to a building nearby. The automatic weapons halted as the sound of the soldier crashing through a door was heard. Followed by a few loud and profane words.

"Siemowit!" The soldier whispered louder than he had shouted.

Siemowit crouched and moved silently to the doorway, the soldier had run from across the street and into the building opposite.

"Siemowit!"

Siemowit waited for a moment in case the soldier was about to be assaulted before replying.

"I'm over here, Vladlen," He whispered loudly.

The soldier turned around to look at Siemowit.

"There you are!" He said.

"Hold your tone, there are more soldiers here then our first thoughts, they may be mounting an attack on the motherland."

The soldier froze up for a second.

"What was that?" He asked loudly.

"Don't move, I'm coming over!" Siemowit whispered.

He then bolted towards the other side of the road.