The Great Retreat (Part Two)

Under the Holy Father's blessing, Ivanov crossed the machine gun's field of fire without a scratch. He was moving so fast he could barely stop, even sliding sideways to the ground as an Ork raised its gun at him.

Then the air inches above his head was scorched hot by bullets.

When Ivanov raised his head, he saw Aluno drive his long blade into the ambusher.

As the big man roared, Aluno drew his pistol with his free hand and emptied the magazine into that square head, abruptly cutting off its cries.

Boom~!

The grenade blast announced that the other Greenskin left at the doorway had also been dealt with. Ivanov got to his feet and brushed the dust from his coat.

He looked back toward the street they had just crossed.

Eight new bodies lay bleeding on the ground. One of them was still moving, weakly calling for help from his comrades.

It was Lemsky, a young private from Fourth Platoon. Private Rodnyaev, also from Fourth Platoon, followed Ivanov's gaze and saw his wounded comrade lying out in the street.

The burly man immediately threw down his gun and tried to run to his friend's aid, but Aluno's powerful hand seized his wrist.

"Don't do anything stupid, soldier."

The deputy commander kept his voice low.

"He's right."

Ivanov crouched down and came over to the two men.

"You won't last one second out there before bullets tear you to pieces. Lemsky wouldn't want you to do this, and I can't afford to lose another man. Think carefully."

"But he's not dead yet, sir!"

Rodnyaev forced the words through clenched teeth.

"We came from the same village."

Perhaps Lemsky had heard those words, because at that moment he dropped to one knee and, enduring the terrible pain wracking his body,