Chapter 2

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The gentle wind was moving branches. Half of the snow had melted. With spring storks and swallows had come. Trees were slowly sprouting leaves. Under them, in thick bushes, guerilla troops were lurking. They were waiting for a train with supplies moving to a front. Nobody was talking. There was such silence that you could think they fused with the forest. Somewhere in the distance the moving machine could be heard. After a while it showed up, running fast, but when an engine driver saw a tree laying on the tracks, he slowed down until a stop. The guerillas were still waiting. Soldiers – the escort  – got off the train. Together with the engine driver they approached the idler. The Poles were waiting for it. A dozen or so shots reverberated and the enemy troops dropped dead. Silence fell upon the forest. A few people went to the farther part of the train, to check if there was anyone else. When they got back, they let know that the coast was clear. Everybody started unloading trucks... almost everybody. Aside, watching the whole action, Poland was standing. He was looking at the bustling people, loading stuff on carts. This type of actions had become frequent; intercepting arms or supplies, more rarely sabotaging divisions heading to a front because what for waste explosive materials? After finishing loading, they splitted up into smaller, mother troops, as they had been gathering into one during actions. Each group went to its camp or village favourable for the guerillas. One exception was the commandant's unit; a part of it went to a secret hoard, where arms were stored.

After returning, Feliks went to the command tent. Hanna came in after a while. She was a high, brown-haired woman with long hair and green eyes.

"General, blockade of Vilnius," she announced.

"And?"

"Today we're going to take information from "Breaker". The German have blocked all the ways, we won't be able to get to him".

Poland pondered; it was a problem, "Breaker" could have important information.

"And totally at what time is he supposed to be at the definite place?"

"20:45, there where always."

"Hmm... I'll fly there and totally take what I should," confident Feliks said.

"General..." Hanna started, but Feliks silenced her with a hand movement, cutting off the discussion.

"Totally decided."

The rest of the day passed quickly. The weather changed; the sky was enshrouded by clouds and the ground by fine fog. Great weather for flying. When he had wrapped his wings in a black, tough fabric, so that the German couldn't see him, he went to a less thick forest and flew up towards the Vilnius' suburbs. There was no wind, trees were barely moving. After a while the forest thinned, which meant that in a moment the first development would probably appear and along with it the blockade of the city. He flew up and hid in the clouds. From time to time he was lowering the ceiling to see where he was. Finally, he spotted the designated place; the small grove beside a lodge of a trusted man. He dived almost vertically down, spread his wings and, after a rapid stop a few centimetres over the ground, landed. It was dark around. He sensitized his hearing. Soon he heard a snap of broken sticks. He clinged to a tree, in his hand appeared a weapon. He looked out the trunk.

A bass voice spoke up in the darkness, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm picking mushrooms."

Such a talk was set, after it he was sure that this was "Breaker". Poland went from behind the tree.

In the dark he could only see the informant's silhouette who said, "I thought there wouldn't be anybody..." he stopped short when he saw the wings. In the first second he thought that it was Laurinaitis. He reached for a gun.

"Totally easy," Feliks hid his pistol and slightly raised his hands.

He came closer to "Breaker". In the darkness of the night he hardly perceived a four-cornered cap and a familiar cut of the uniform. After a while it hit him who he was standing in front of.

"I'm sorry, General," having hidden his gun, he pulled out the records, "Here you are."

Łukasiewicz took them and tucked into a pocket of the uniform. He eyed the informant; it was a tall man in glasses, with dark hair and a long fringe combed aside.

"How is the situation in the city?" Poland asked.

"Well, not bad, but it's getting more and more difficult. Laurinaitis causes the most trouble."

The blond twitched slightly. He knew Toris was fighting off the Home Army, but he didn't want to believe that he was doing it so much.

"I'll be flying totally now."

They bid each other goodbye and Feliks started out his way back. He pondered on the case of Lithuania again. He was sure that it couldn't be so bad. Thoughts enfolded his mind like the clouds which were covering the sky now. Because of them he didn't notice two aeroplanes flying in his direction. When he finally saw them, he dived down in no time, among trees. Branches were scraping and whipping painfully against him, wearing the uniform, here and there the black fabric, injuring the wings. Sharp needles were making narrow cuts. The cap fell of his head. Everything only lasted a few seconds, but while he was breaking through the last layers of the trees crowns, his hand met a quite thick branch. A crunch sounded and Poland sweared with pain. He spread his wings as soon as possible, braking several centimetres above the ground. Cursing, he looked at his right hand; sprained wrist. Admittedly, the wings weren't hurt, but they had marks of some cuts and the pain almost equaled half of the pain of the sprained wrist. He lifted up his four-cornered cap from the ground and then looked at the sky, listening if the aeroplanes didn't come back, even though they could do nothing to him. Through the lush branches there could be seen patches of the sky enfolded by clouds – too densely to start. There's no way to fly, I must totally go on foot.

He came back to the camp entirely tattered and angry. What a pity that the majority of the division didn't sleep because they were looking at the general with astonished looks. He, trying to avoid the curious looks as well as the disgrace, headed to the central tent. Hanna and Matthias were still sitting there. Before he entered, he heard them arguing. After he went in, both of them fell silent.

Gołygowska started up from her seat and after a few seconds asked in a bit worried tone, "General, what happened?"

"Well, let's say I had a totally emergency landing," the blond grunted, laying the records on a desk.

Hannah, having noticed the strangely twisted general's right hand, asked, "General, what happened with your hand?"

"Totally to hard impact with a branch, sprained wrist," he answered casually, browsing the information. He took the majority of the envelopes and laid them on the table that was located beside the desk.

"Preview them," he ordered.

Then he went to nurses. They confirmed that the wrist was sprained. Fortunately, it wasn't a complex injury.

Originally posted: 1.07.2021

[APH] Phoenixes never lose their wingsحيث تعيش القصص. اكتشف الآن