Thanks for the overwhelming, positive response, everyone! MOTP, I'm also posting this at the AW2 Board at GameFaqs, you oughta come there and join! .....

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-The Heart Of Snow-

Chapter 7: The Battle Goes On

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Olaf felt how he became weaker and weaker.

All that existed in his life was the greypainted walls that surrounded him, and the steel-door that kept him from escaping.

They had moved him now, to a new, "safer" cell, which was dark all the time. There was no lights, not even a small window to let in the sunlight.

The only break he got from the lonely monotomy, was when the hatch was slided open, and food was put in.

Olaf refused to call it food, though. A cold soup with large pieces of raw potatoes was all he got, maybe a piece of bread if he was lucky.

He had been in the cell for two days. That, he knew, because he had witnessed two executions since Colin died in front of his own eyes.

He had lost count of how many men he had seen die. He tried to count at first, so he would know how many times he was going to shoot Jasper when he got out of there.

But they were too many now. Not many of his soldiers was alive. Not even a hundred.

Olaf clenched his fists.

He didn't even have a bed, and was forced to sleep on the floor, which certainly didn't help to ease his terrible pain in his back and in his arm.

"If I only could find a way to get out of here..." He mumbled. "All I need is the coordinates for the prison, and I'm sure that someone would come... And save the soldiers..."

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"Faster!" Grit yelled in his pilots ear. "The snails on the ground are moving quicker than us, dammit!"

"I'm sorry, commander, but this helicopter is old and..."

"My grandmother is old, and she's faster than this piece of junk! ARGH! Dammit!"

Grit punched the instrument-panel

"I need to get to the outer defense lines now, lieutenant!" He screamed . "Not tomorrow, not next week, not next year! Now, you understand me?"

"Y-Yes, commander Grit. But I'm afraid..."

"Afraid of what? You should be afraid of me, lieutenant! If you don't get me where I want within five minutes, I'll strangle you with your own belt!"

"Y-Y-Yes, commander. I guess we could transfer more power to the rear engine."

"Good. How much do we gain on that?"

"Two minutes, sir."

Grit roared and whacked his head in the window on his right.

"I should have asked for a Fighter-plane instead. Damn it, lieutenant! If we lose this war, it's your fault, and that goddamn captain that gave me this fucking helicopter!"

Mood swings... Grit thought and sat back on his chair. If I were to remove my beard, you could almost take me for a woman with PMS...

Grit laughed to himself and took on his hat.

What he didn't know, was that it would take a while before he ever laughed again...

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"Why hasn't our panzer divisions broken through their lines yet?" Simon yelled at his sergeant. "He's been holding us off for a day!"

"The Blue Moon Army is stronger than we expected, commander." The sergeant replied. "And his artillery blasts our tanks to pieces before they actually reach the defense line."

"Officer, gimme a direct link to the base. It's time that we take care of Grit once and for all."

"What should I tell that your errand is, commander?"

"Just tell them that I need to talk with... Mr Tactical..."

"What?! Isn't that a bit drastic, commander?"

"Not at all, sergeant. Mr Tactical has his own way of doing things... He'll be the perfect man for the job."

"May I ask for what job?" The sergeant slowly asked.

"Hehe, no, sergeant... It'll be a surprise, believe me... Mark my words, haha..."

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