Special Platoon Commander
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UK and US got their MI-6 and Office of Strategic Services. Nazis got Ahnenerbe and Heilige Lanze, Lance of Longinius. And Soviets got SMERSH assault battalions... and the Special Platoons, the last line of defense against those who lurks in darkness.
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Special Platoon Commander - Vadim Sharapov
9781483540702
1. Monday.
It all began when Master Sergeant Stepan Nefedov, Commandant of the Chernovilovo rail junction, found an unregistered and sealed rail car.
There were no marks on the green planks that made up the car’s walls, apart from common trackman’s chalk marks. But it wasn’t this that put Stepan on his guard. A sweet putrid stench drifted from the car, suppressing other smells, and water was dripping from between the planks onto the ground.
Stepan called over the patrol and ordered the seal broken. The door moved aside, and one of the patrol – a young lad – immediately threw up in the dust, his face matching the car’s green color. Corpses were piled in perfect stacks on the car floor. Non-human corpses. White-haired, narrow faces with dark skin and long shirts thickly smeared with blood.
The car was full of black seidhe . Flies circled the bullet holes in the bodies. It seemed that in the past the car was ice-cooled; rotten straw soaked with water lay everywhere.
The train had been standing at the dead end of the Chernovilovo junction for two days as they repaired the roadbed. Bent rails and ties had expanded and broken as if something huge made its way under the railway. When they dug up the embankment, they discovered a hot spring.
By the time it was repaired, the ice in the car had already melted.
Nefedov turned white with fury. Soldiers who hadn’t seen their master sergeant in such a mood for some time quieted down and walked away from the train; they didn’t want to appear in the heat of the moment. Stepan slammed the boards so that a long chip came off, and cursed, letting out a complicated stream of choice four-letter words even boatswains would be ashamed to hear.
A scrawny, four-eyed train officer came running at the noise, took the master sergeant aside and began to rebuke him for not immediately reporting a seal-breaking.
What are you up to, Stepan?
he cried, trying to end the dispute right away, pointing at Nefedov’s chest as he spat his words. You know whose behind this, don’t you? Shut the car right now and kick everyone out of here!
Before he had time to finish, his eyes opened wide. Badly smiling, master sergeant took his wrist so that the hand bones crunched.
Using first-names, are we? That’s great!
Nefedov carefully removed an invisible thread from first lieutenant’s shoulder. "What’s the matter with you, lieutenant? Got too much sun? Do you understand what will begin on station if anyone finds out? Have you ever seen the living seidhe yourself? That’s just the point! Their woods are near.White seidhe have been living here from time immemorial. If you need the list of their tribes I can manage it!"
But they’re White...
the Lieutenant justified, trying to free his hand. He immediately realized the master sergeant was of those with whom it was better not to argue. He didn’t even care about rank.
"Black, white...what’s the difference?! It’s clear that local seidhe hate those. The war has just finished, lieutenant! And they fought on different sides. But that was during the war. And now what? Do you want a massacre to begin here? Your, Nefedov was getting more and more angry,
soldiers disappeared as if the wind had blown them away. You won’t be sent to mop-up these woods. You’ll take cover in Moscow. Here, they will slaughter peasant’s cattle, and then get to peasant’s children when the cattle run out. Have you ever seen how they do it?"
The dispirited lieutenant unzipped his map-case and gave the accompanying documents to Stepan.
It turned out that the car had been added to the train in East Prussia by the personal command of comrade Vasily Stalin for experiments of national importance.
The orders had all the necessary stamps and signatures.
The Commandant of the junction gasped through clenched teeth and looked up to the sky.
Well this explains it. Now we have a new problem: who will be responsible for the broken seal?
The lieutenant could sense that the master sergeant expected to gain revenge on him, the scar on his cheek flashing with anger.
You know what, lieutenant, come with me over there,
he pointed behind the train, so that your soldiers won’t hear.
The lieutenant nodded, as if bewitched. Stepan led the way to the secluded corner between the two cars and calmly lit a cigarette.
"Lieutenant. It’s none of our business how and why they were taken to Moscow. But listen. If just one child in the Chernovilovs woods is lost, I will come to Moscow and find