Chapter 734 -72 Courage (Extra 47/84)
August 2nd, 9 PM, at the temporary command center of General Rocossovsky, on the move.
Wang Zhong hung up the phone and turned to look at Nelly.
Nelly looked up, puzzled, “What’s the matter?”
Wang Zhong, “Do you remember Orachi?”
"Of course,” Nelly replied and continued to pour tea for Ludmila.
Wang Zhong, “The Prosens have massacred the city. It seems they intend to annihilate us there to negate our defensive success, where one of our divisions held against several of theirs.”
...
A few drops of tea spilled outside the cup.
Nelly put down the teapot and looked up at Wang Zhong, “That’s really… a sad thing.”
Wang Zhong, “When we were building defensive works in Orachi, I noticed you got along well with the locals. I hope you won’t be too saddened.”
"I’m alright,” Nelly took the cloth and wiped the spilled tea.
Ludmila stood up and hugged Nelly tightly, “Nelly! My strong Nelly.”
Nelly, “Madam, I’m fine. I can’t even recall their faces anymore, just that they were kind and gave me a little extra when they sold me things, that’s all.
"And I’m almost being suffocated by your hug, Madam!”
Wang Zhong patted Ludmila on the shoulder, “She said so herself.”
Ludmila finally released Nelly and stared at her face for a few seconds, “Nelly, you look more expressionless than before. It’s hard to guess what you’re thinking.”
"Mm,” Nelly nodded, seemingly unaware that her response was rather odd. After a brief pause, she asked, “We will arrive in Orachi tomorrow, right?”
Wang Zhong nodded, “Yes. The Front Army Headquarters led by Pavlov should have arrived there by midnight today. They found some usable houses there, so the Front Army Headquarters should be set up there before Yegorov captures Argesukov.
"That area is now considered a safe rear.”
"I know,” Nelly still kept a stern face.
Wang Zhong did not know whether it was the fierce battle at the beachhead that had hardened her heart or if she had always been such an iron lady.
Simultaneously, at 43 Krugan Street, Argesukov.
Alekseyevna suddenly looked up at the window.
She listened intently to the faint, muffled sounds outside.
At that moment, the hidden door in her room opened, and a young face popped out asking, “Grandma, what’s happening? Is it thundering? Is there going to be a storm?” 𝔯ãɴȎΒËṩ
Grandma gently shook her head, “No, child, it’s cannon fire.”
"Really?” The young man climbed out of the hidden door, ran to the window, and opened it.
The dull sound filled the room.
One sound after another, like the heartbeat of a giant.
Suddenly, this sound was interrupted by a sharp screech. Prosen police cars, sirens blaring, sped through the street, with Prosen occupation forces firing their 98Ks at the surrounding windows.
They called this a ‘deterrence action.’
Alekseyevna calmly pulled the young man away from the window and closed it.
The young man, “Grandma, when the enemy’s police cars move like this, it generally means they’ve lost track of someone who broke the curfew. I think Sherlov and the others should be here.”
No sooner had he finished speaking than there was a knock on the apartment door.
Grandma pushed the young man, gesturing for him to hide in the hidden door.
After the hidden door closed, she put on a coat and pretended to have just gotten up, meanwhile speaking loudly, “I’m here! Searching every night must be really exhausting, dear Prosen gentlemen.”
This was a disguise, and also a code, telling those outside that nothing had changed inside.
Alekseyevna arrived at the door, opened it, and let two middle-aged men into the apartment.
"Sherlov,” the old lady asked the first man who entered, “how are things?”
"Terrible. We received news from our informant in the city government. The Prosens might start massacring the town tomorrow. The priest from the underground diocese has ordered a general mobilization of the guerrilla in all districts. We’re preparing to rise up tomorrow to arm ourselves and defend Argesukov.”
Alekseyevna’s eyes widened, “A rising up now? Listen, you can already hear our artillery outside, liberation is clearly at hand. If we rise up now, many won’t see the day of liberation!”
Sherlov placed his hands on the old lady’s shoulders, “Two years ago, you saved us wounded soldiers. The Prosens aren’t fools; they’ve realized you might be sheltering us. If they really start massacring tomorrow, you will be the first one they target!
"It’s our turn to protect you now!
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"The people of Argesukov have also been supporting our fight; we can’t just watch them be slaughtered.”
Alekseyevna shook her head, grabbing Sherlov’s hand, “Over these two years, you all have become like my sons to me, and I don’t want you to die on the eve of liberation.”
Sherlov smiled, “We’re not planning to die; we have a good chance of winning. The Prosens’ regular Eleventh Army Group is currently retreating to the west bank of the Dibo River; they should all leave Argesukov by tonight.
"What’s left are just useless things like the people’s militias, barely having any machine guns. Over the past two years, we’ve been accumulating weapons and ammunition, stealing a lot from Prosens’ depots and also receiving support through underground transport lines and airdrops.
"Our equipment is much better than the enemy’s militias! Our combat experience is also richer! Have you forgotten? A large part of us were the wounded soldiers abandoned two years ago; we have combat experience!”
Alekseyevna stared at Sherlov for several seconds, finally letting go of his hand, “I understand, do what you must. I just… just seeing victory about to arrive, I suddenly can’t bear it.”
Sherlov, “Your strength has always inspired us, at least it has inspired me. Once we triumph, no matter which of us survives, we will all treat you as our own mother.”
Alekseyevna gave a slight smile, pointing to the secret door, “Go on then, our comrades are all waiting for the commands from the underground diocese!”
Sherlov nodded, walked to the secret door, and expertly slipped inside.
His attendant respectfully saluted the old lady before disappearing into the secret door.
Alekseyevna then returned to the bed, disregarding the risks of being hit by the frantic Prosens, she lay on the window, her ear pressed against the glass, listening to the endless sounds of artillery outside.
On August 3rd at noon, Wang Zhong’s armored command vehicle entered Orachi.
Tank 422 was currently being repaired; Ke Jing assured that the new batch of Rokossovsky Type had resolved the issue with the transmission shaft breaking, but now it seemed to have a new problem.
So, Wang Zhong had no choice but to abandon the idea of driving a tank all the way to Argesukov and instead ride in the armored command vehicle provided by the Federation.
Wang Zhong opened the door of the command car and glanced at the street stretching out beneath the eyelids, his emotions mixed.
The streets were the same, some buildings on either side maintained their integrity, but all bore the scars of having been scorched by fire.
Wang Zhong realized that the Orachi he knew had disappeared.
Suddenly, someone pushed him, squeezing past from his side out of the command vehicle.
It was Nelly.
Nelly took big strides forward, standing in the middle of the road, looking at the ruins on both sides.
Wang Zhong, “Nelly! You
Before Wang Zhong could finish, Nelly started running.
She dashed through the rubble, seemingly searching for something desperately.
Wang Zhong stood by the door of the armored command vehicle, watching Nelly run further and further away.
For a moment, Wang Zhong recalled “The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly,” a movie he was very fond of before traveling through time, the scene where one of the protagonists ran wildly through a huge cemetery formed by the Civil War, had become a classic in film history.
Ludmila came next to Wang Zhong, whispering, “Indeed, Nelly established a deep connection with the residents during that month.”
Wang Zhong nodded, “That’s why I hesitated yesterday about how to tell her the news.”
Ludmila, “It’s okay, she’s stronger than we imagine, very strong. It’s okay.”