He’d left everything behind once, except his pack and his rifle. He supposed that was something he and Nadia had in common. Maybe the only thing. But he’d crept away rather than run for his life, and his parents hadn’t been murdered. He’d deserted to the Družina and trusted them to look past his uniform and give him a chance to fight for something he didn’t despise. Nadia had fled to the Czechoslovak Legion for a chance to live. He’d found brotherhood and purpose. Only time could tell what Nadia would find.
Dalek and Emil disappeared behind a door with crooked hinges, and Petr’s group rushed ahead.
“You want me with you?” Anton asked.
“Yes. We’re taking a more direct route to the train station.”
Filip led Anton around the building and through a narrow alley. Had Dalek been the one following him, he would have made some quip about how “more direct” sounded a lot like “more dangerous,” but Anton didn’t seem to believe in unnecessary chatter. Unless it involved his wife. The two of them had plenty to say to each other, which didn’t at all ease the weight Filip felt from being assigned to lead this patrol. Anton and Veronika were happy. They wouldn’t be happy anymore if Filip fouled up and Anton ended up dead.
Of course, the lovebirds also wouldn’t be happy if the Germans captured Anton and shot him as a traitor. Technically, he was. Like Filip, Anton was a subject of Austria-Hungary. Or he had been in 1914; things were less clear now. Anton hadn’t voluntarily crossed the lines the way Filip had. When in a hopeless position, his unit had been captured by the Russians and made war prisoners. But regardless of whether defection or defeat had brought Anton to Russia, joining the Czechoslovak Legion would earn him a death sentence if caught.
“They’re up.”
Filip turned at Anton’s remark and caught sight of Dalek and Emil on the roof of the warehouse. In other circumstances, he would have waited for them to make their observations and report, but Kral was desperate for news. They didn’t have time for in-depth planning. They would have to rely on boldness instead.
Filip and Anton moved forward, doing their best to stay out of sight. The town was quiet—too quiet. If life in the town hadn’t been somehow interrupted, people would be going about their business as usual, selling, buying, cleaning, living. Instead, the streets were deserted.
“Hold up here and cover me.” Filip approached a house surrounded by a fence and sheltered by pine and hornbeam.
No one answered his knock. He pushed the door open, leading with his bayonet, then took a deep breath and rushed in. The room was abandoned. No one at the wooden table or beside the stove, but the stove still emitted warmth, and the air smelled of smoke. He moved aside a curtain that partitioned the room; no one was in the bed either.
He went back outside. Instinct made him pull his rifle to his shoulder as a man ran toward them. “Anton, get down! Never mind, it’s Dalek.” He lowered his weapon.
At the false alarm, a sly grin appeared briefly on Anton’s face before fading into his normal placid expression. “No one inside?”
“No. But it hasn’t been empty for long.”
Dalek hopped a fence and joined them.
“What is it?” Filip asked.
Dalek pointed toward the town center. “There’s a machine gun at the station, about two blocks from here. Manned by German soldiers.”
“We should let Kral know.” Filip looked toward the train they’d left behind. “Who wants to go back and tell him?”
Dalek chuckled. “You’re the corporal, so you can order. But neither of us is foolish enough to volunteer when we can wait here behind a sturdy stone wall instead.”
“Why did Kral put you under me? You’re as bad as the Bolsheviks. No respect for the chain of command.” Even if Dalek had been different, it would have been challenging for Filip to command someone he’d known since they were boys learning the pommel horse and the vault. There hadn’t been any rank back then, just friendship, and a taste for mischief and adventure.
“You don’t think the Bolsheviks have a hierarchy?” Dalek asked. “They may preach equality, but so far, that just seems like an excuse to steal from anyone who has more than they do.”
“I’ll go.” Filip glanced up and down the street. “You two can wait here. It’s as good a place as any. Kral needs to know what he’s up against.”
As if it knew it was under discussion, the machine gun went into action. Filip ducked, even though he knew it wasn’t aimed at him.
“Change of plans, brothers. It sounds like Zeman’s group just ran into that gun.” Filip looked back to the warehouse. “Is Emil still there?”
“Unless he’s been shot.” Dalek had moved closer to the ground, too, in response to the gunfire.
“See if he can signal Petr’s group. I think we’ll need all of us. Anton and I will move closer, and I want the rest of our group to join us.”
Dalek ran off, back to the warehouse.
“You’ve known each other long?” Anton asked as they moved forward, hunched over and hugging the sides of the buildings.
“Since we were seven.”