Chapter 3
General Anatoli Aleksandrovich Smorin sat sipping vodka next to a roaring fire his uniform jacket unbuttoned as he tried to relax. Things were unusually stressful right now, and the general liked nothing more than a glass of strong liquor after a hard day at the office. Russia was a disaster, ever since they had abandoned socialism it had been one mistake after another. Smorin was not a true believer in the Marxist cause. If he had been he would have been replaced long ago. No, he was a pragmatist, and a very ambitious man willing to obtain power by any means necessary. His loyalty to the state had been maintained more by the fact he was unable to see a way to cease power that had a realistic chance of working, than by anything else. But today had brought him a glimmer of hope if only a faint one. He had been involved in the clean-up after the ill-fated expedition into Amestris had been attempted. He still remembered all the good men who had been pensioned off, or in a few cases killed following that fiasco. It wasn't their fault that they hadn't known that the Amestrian devils were all witches. He hadn't believed it at first, how could he have, but after reading a mountain of reports, and seeing the classified video taken by a field medic back of the front, which had caught clearly the man in white calling hellfire down upon his comrades. Yes, he decided to take another sip of his Vodka, a man such as that could be invaluable in his goals.
This one was a little micro-chapter but never fear the next full chapter should be up in a few moments after the release of this one.
Thanks for reading, God bless yinz. And have a great life!