Satisfied that they had adequately recovered, the Lieutenant said, “Let’s get our skis on and move about half a mile north.”
“Then we hit them again?” Hale asked.
Maki nodded, “Yes.” He gestured toward Hale’s belt, “I see that you came away with several prizes. Perhaps this time, instead of sneaking into individual camps, you can just toss two or three of those at the camp sites.”
“Won’t we need these later for the defense of the village?” Hale wondered.
“They would certainly help, but I need you alive more than anything.” Maki replied.
Hale didn’t reply. The two men skied in silence for about twenty minutes until the Lieutenant broke the silence, “This is far enough. Let’s head toward the road. This time let’s keep our skis on so we can make a faster getaway.”
Hale nodded, “Yes sir.”
The pair turned toward the east and continued skiing. After about a quarter of a mile, Hale held up his right fist and the two men stopped. The pair spent several minutes listening. Like before, the sounds of the idling engines filled their ears. Conspicuously absent, despite their proximity to the road, was the noise of boots crunching on the snow made.
Turning to his commanding officer Hale said, “If we get much closer with the skis, we may be heard over the noise of the engine.”
“Very well. We can leave them here. I just don’t relish the idea of having to push through the snow to get away again.” Maki replied.
“I relish even less, getting shot by an alert guard.” Hale fire back.
The two men quickly unclipped their boots. They leaned their two pairs of skis up against a tree, “Perhaps we should hang our packs again so we can find them quickly?” The Lieutenant said.
“Agreed. I don’t relish the idea of trying to make a get away with this weight on my back.” Hale said.
The two men quickly hung their packs from the tree that they had leaned their skis up against. Maki asked, “Same as before?”
“Yeah, except this time, once we are inside the perimeter, I’ll do as you suggested. Tossing a few grenades at the camp sites should get them all stirred up.
“And missing out on sleep.” Maki added.
“Exactly, then I’ll make a break for it.” Hale replied.
“Sounds good. Let’s get moving. I want to be able to do this one more time before dawn.” Maki said.
Hale nodded and turned toward the sound of idling engines. He slowly crept forward, careful not to make any sounds. After a few hundred feet, he raised up his right hand and clenched it into a fist again.
About fifty feet ahead was a figured outlined by the moonlight. Hale pointed at Maki and then pointed at the ground to indicate for him to stay there. Maki nodded in understanding and carefully pulled his PPD 34 from his shoulder.
Hale moved off to the north, he slowly angled his toward the road. He was careful to keep the trees between him and the guard. Wanting to ensure all was well, he would pause every few dozen feet and just listen for several minutes. Each time he paused the only sound he could hear was that of the engines droning in the distance.
Finally, he drew parallel to the Soviet standing guard. Satisfied that he hadn’t been spotted, Hale slowly crept from tree to tree, as he drew closer to his intended victim. This one, was a lot quieter than the smoker Hale had snuck up on and slain earlier. Catching wind of something amiss, the guard turned in the direction of Hale and said, “Privet?”
Hale stopped moving. His heart thundered in his ears as he waited for the enemy soldier to make the next move.
“Ya slyshal, ty perestal igrat’ v igry.” The man said as he pulled his rifle off his shoulder.
Hale inwardly cursed as his mind raced, I think that last word was games. He thinks I am a friend trying to play tricks on him. What do I do? Anything I try is going to make noise.
The young Finn quickly ran through his options in his head, I could shoot him, but that would make too much noise. Using a grenade would definitely make noise. Pukkos make terrible throwing knives, besides in this darkness I’d probably miss anyways. His mind went back to the class on basic Russian. There was one phrase that might work.
Staying hidden, Hale said in his best imitation of a Russian accent, “Pomogi mne.”
The Russian wasn’t buying it, he squared his shoulder, raised his rifle, and said, “Pokazhi sebya.”
Oh for fucks sake screw it! Hale raged. He stepped out from behind the tree with his pistol raised and put a bullet in the man’s face.
Before the Soviet’s corpse hit the ground, Hale was running toward the road. He could hear several whistles being blown to rouse the men from their sleep. Reaching the edge of the tree line, he saw several different squads standing around their campfires. The light from the fires revealed looks of confusion on many of their faces as they hastily prepared their rifles for combat.
Hale pulled a grenade from his belt, twisted the cap, and threw it at the nearest campfire. He repeated this motion two more times, hurling the grenades at the campsites on either side of the first. Without waiting to see the results, he turned and ran toward Maki. Frantic screaming erupted from the first campsite as the Russians quickly realized what had flown out of the darkness and landed amongst them.
Before Hale could get five feet through the deep snow, the first grenade erupted cutting down several of the soldiers. A few moments later, the second and third grenades exploded, adding to the chaos and the victim count.
A few moments later, he reached Lieutenant Maki, “Well that was sloppy.”
“The damn sentry was too alert. I had to shoot the fucker.” Hale replied testily.
“Did you get any more besides the sentry?” The Lieutenant asked.
“Yeah, I should have gotten several with the grenades.” Hale replied.
Gunfire erupted from the direction of the Soviet column. Maki threw a glance in that direction and said, “We’d best get going, before they start heading in this direction.”
Hale gestured toward the west, “Lead on.”
The two Finns made their way back to the spot where they had left their skis and packs. They hastily buckled their boots to the skis, placed their packs on their backs and set off to the west. Back on the road, the Russian officers had finally managed to organize the chaos into a semblance of order and sent several squads toward the location they suspected Hale to be.
By the time this was accomplished Hale and Maki were a mile away and turning toward the north. The two men skied in silence across the countryside. As the chaos they caused faded away behind them, the only two sounds Hale could hear was his own breathing and the noise his skis made. After nearly an hour, Hale turned toward Maki and broke the silence, “How much further is the village?”
“About two to three miles by my reckoning.” Maki replied.
“Then shouldn’t we be hitting them here? Before we get to much closer.” Hale asked.
Maki stopped and pulled a map from inside his coat. He frowned as he struggled to read the map in the fading moonlight, “The moon is setting, I can’t see the map.”
Hale pulled out a box of matches, turned his back toward the road to conceal what he was about to do, and struck one. Careful to keep it lit, he protected the flame by cupping his hand around it and held it over the map, “Thanks” The Lieutenant said.
“Well?” Hale impatiently snapped.
Maki flashed Hale a glare and stabbed an index finger at a spot on the map, “I believe we are here.”
Hale stared at the map for a moment, “That puts us about three miles south west of Kivennapa.”
Maki nodded, “Exactly, so as you say, we need to go ahead and hit them here.”