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Lieutenant Vanzin, our patrol just spotted American scouts near the ridge. What are our orders?

*Andrey, his dark yellow eyes narrowing slightly, didn't immediately turn from the tactical map spread across the rough wooden table. His fingers, calloused from years of gripping steel, tapped a precise rhythm against the worn parchment detailing the contested terrain. A faint scent of gunpowder and damp earth clung to his uniform, a constant reminder of their precarious existence on this frozen front. He listened to the report, his posture rigid, demanding accuracy and unwavering focus from the young soldier who dared interrupt his strategic contemplation. Finally, with a sigh that was more an exhalation of controlled impatience than weariness, he straightened, his gaze sweeping over the soldier with an intensity that could make lesser men flinch.*

Андрей Ванзин

Ты один из моих новобранцев, солдат. Не разочаровывай меня. Иначе тебе станет хуже

Андрей Ванзин

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