This is part three of the New Soviet Era Story. Previous parts:
2-Makron of Moscow
“Hold … hold … hold” This whispered order was directed at a handful of snow covered figures lying patiently along the tree line. From this position they looked out over farm fields to the only road for several kilometers. Moving along this road was a few European Panhard light tanks and a European Heavy tank. The reason for this armor being on the road was the command half-track in the middle of the column. This was an escort mission, and the Kremlin believed that the EA commander Appollo was on his way from Berlin to take control over the war with the Soviets. After the battle of Moscow, the European forces had been on the retreat with Makron’s troops right behind them. The Alliance’s top commanders had decided that a new leader was needed in order to turn the tide of the war. With Appollo’s impressive record and determination, he was an obvious choice.
“Fire!” The command was almost lost to the snowy figures, since the wind was fond of stealing men’s voices at this time of the year. But a second later the command was answered by the shout of a soviet Anti-Tank rifle hurling death at the armored column. The first shot hit the lead Panhard, ripping through the main turret and killing the tank’s commander. A few seconds later, another shot flew forth, this time aimed at the Panhard bringing up the rear. This shot bounced off the tank’s sloped front. As the column tried to figure out where the fire was coming from, the AT sniper took aim for a third time. As he pulled the trigger, the bullet erupted from the barrel and flew straight towards the Heavy Tank. Aimed true, it found the weak spot where the turret and body of the tank meet. Puncturing a hole in the armor, the bullet shattered, spraying shrapnel throughout the insides. The loader was killed outright and the driver’s neck was pierced. The next shot was aimed at the halftrack. It too flew straight, and took out the antenna on top of the halftrack, disabling its broadcasting abilities.
By this time the rest of the column had located the source of the bullets, and turned to bring their cannons to bear. As the AT sniper team retreated into the woods, the leader of the group turned and fired a flare into the air. “For Mother Russia!” Screamed Tanky_Kittens before running into the woods behind her. As soon as the flare went up, the column was bombarded by Partisan RPG teams who had charged across the field on the opposite side of the road while the column was distracted. Multiple rockets hit each tank, destroying each one. The halftrack’s driver gunned it and tried to escape, but a rocket destroyed it’s treads before it had gone very far. The partisans surrounded the vehicle, and armed with PPSH submachine guns they opened it up. Appollo was indeed inside, and became a prisoner of the Soviet Army. His driver and aides were not so lucky.
A few days later, the Soviets had pushed far enough forward so that it was safe to move Appollo to Makron’s headquarters. Tanky_Kittens escorted Appollo to the HQ tent, accompanied by a few soldiers. They were admitted almost immediately. They only had to wait for as long as it took to clear the maps and charts off the tables and walls. Appollo was clever, and if he escaped, Makron wanted to make sure he was ignorant of the SU’s plans. “Partisan soldier reporting sir! Codename Tanky_Kittens presenting the EA commander Appollo who my unit captured” Appollo sighed and rolled his eyes. He knew some Russian, but it was more suited for a bar then his enemy’s tent.
Makron stood up and walked over to Tanky_Kittens and returned her salute “Ah yes well done. Very impressive. Is he the only survivor?” “Da” Satisfied, he walked over to stand in front of Appollo and stared at him. Appollo knew that Makron was trying to get him to break and speak first, but he was determined. “Excellent!” declared Makron after a few minutes. He walked back to his desk and took a seat. “Tanky would you kindly get us two more chairs?” As she slipped out, Makron addressed Appollo in English “Would you like a drink sir? You may not understand Russian, but after a few drinks, everyone speaks it just fine heheheh” Appollo shook his head. “I’m glad that you did not break the silence. If you had, then I would’ve been disappointed, and would have rather faced you in battle. Someone who gives in to the pressure makes mistakes. But you sir, are not like that. I’m glad that we got to you before you got to your army. In different circumstances however, I would be eager to face you in battle. But we are in a … precarious position currently. Don’t tell anyone heheh”
Tanky re-entered the tent and placed the chairs. Makron motioned for both her and Appollo to sit. “Alright! Let’s get the formalities out of the way. Appollo what can you tell me about your unit or your plans for the front?” Appollo sighed again and said “Appollo, European Alliance High Commander, 621311-251521” Makron leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtful. After about a minute he laughed and sat upright. “Ha! Very clever sir hehehe you deserve some vodka for that” Despite Appollo’s protests Makron poured three cups of Vodka from the canteen on his hip.
Later that night, Appollo lay on his cot and stared at the ceiling of his personal tent. Rank does have its privileges. He could hear the soldier’s boots crunching the snow as they patrolled around his tent. More so in your own army though. As he lay, he thought over the events of the past few days. His embarrassing capture, the time spent with the partisans, but most of all, his encounter with the SU general, Comrade_Makron. Appollo couldn’t help but smile a little when he thought of him. He was an interesting character that was for sure. But despite all of that, Appollo sensed dedication, ability and pride within the Soviet General. After all, he wasn’t the hero of Moscow for no reason. Appollo didn’t expect to be here long. Many SU generals had been captured by the EA so an exchange was probably already being made. As he drifted off to sleep he decided to learn as much about Makron and his army as he could before he left.