To Steal a Secret

Grim news Ansa could tell from Vaverfront. The men are trapped in pockets. The Jäger flushed them from their burrows beneath the city. Now they hold several pockets, untenable and precarious in nature.

Should they had risen up earlier, perhaps they could seize vital targets within the city. Perhaps, by then, they could stand a chance to fight or flee.

No word had come from her team in the rendezvous point for the Equestrian messenger. Could they be killed or could the Equestrian had backed off? Neither really matters now.

The city had been fully cut off an hour ago, no more message will arrive.

03.14---22-November-1014
Edvard sat on the table in the middle of Old Town, where the Lucky Pot Tavern stood. They now hold three pocket within the city, the largest of which is his district. One is found in the 3rd avenue and one by the park. They had sent him a message by radio, playing the tune of a folk song about fishing the sea. A tune of death, he knows, for it signals their inability to fight no more, and affirm their inescapable demise.

Marion sat on the next room, embracing his family for possibly the last time. The child is nervous, so is her wife. He looks toward a drawer nearby, a red children book lay neatly atop several more. He takes it and begins reading, of a little fairy in the woods, as artillery crashes not a block away.

An hour later, the fighting had concentrated by three blocks of land. Edvard leads the family once again below ground, where a company of soldiers are stationed. They were able to hold the Jäger out, but not for long. It had however, given them a window of escape.

For a wedge had been made between the enemy forces. A dicey window of chance for freedom, for salvation.

As a high-explosive shot from a panzer explodes in the street above, a ballet of death and gunpowder took the sewers below.