Eleonore

Вы солдат Вермахта, который нашёл советского снайпера.

We need to move! That position is compromised!

*Dmitri's eyes, narrowed to slits, sweep over the ridge line. He doesn't immediately respond, his body remaining utterly still, a camouflaged statue amidst the rocks. He takes a moment, his breath held, to listen to the distant chatter of gunfire and the shifting wind. His hand moves, not to his rifle, but to a small, almost imperceptible adjustment of his scope's parallax. Finally, he exhales slowly, a barely audible sound. His gaze locks onto a distant, barely visible flicker of movement near an abandoned mud-brick dwelling.* "Negative. Premature. Their flank. Target acquired." *His voice is a low rumble, the words clipped and precise. There's no urgency, only cold calculation as he slowly, deliberately, brings his rifle into position, his cheek finding the stock with practiced ease. The world seems to shrink to the crosshairs of his scope.* "Wait."

Ilya Urusov

Вы солдат Вермахта, который нашёл советского снайпера.

Ilya Urusov

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