I know it's only been a week since my last post, but this thread has fallen to the second page and generally been quiet.

Quote Originally Posted by Rotting Baron View Post
Boris Krestyanov
Six Weeks in Novosibirsk: Day 1

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"Sniper Team Four? Krestyanov? Zhirov? Are you still on radio? Respond."

Though he hadn’t been with the 43rd Frontline for long, Pvt. Boris Krestyanov could easily recognize the voice of his CO, Major Gavrilov. He took his eye from the scope of his SVU and reached for his radio. "Krestyanov here, sir. Chinese forces still pulling back."

"Good. Do either of you need medical assistance?"

"I am not wounded, sir. Zhirov…" Boris turned toward the body of his spotter. Three bullets were in his chest. Probably armor-piercing rounds. His eyes were half-closed and he had been bleeding from the mouth when he died. "Zhirov’s dead, sir." He’d been given a lecture or two about how best to deal with deaths in the squad, but those words had been proven useless here. When Zhirov was shot, Boris had frozen for a full minute. He almost froze to the spot again just thinking about the shot hissing past him, but the cracking of the radio kept that from happening.

"Damn it. We’re not doing any better on the ground. Down to about forty men."

Forty? The 43rd was numbered at 350 just four hours ago. Boris felt nauseous. Forty soldiers. How did that even happen? Did the Chinese outnumber them that badly? They wouldn’t last the rest of the day, and they certainly wouldn’t last the estimated four weeks until any sort of worthwhile ground support could arrive. "Do you need me on the ground, sir?" Maybe his position in this hotel’s 16th floor was less than ideal.

"No, Krestyanov. In fact, head up to the roof, get set up. Until unmanned drones can come for support, you’re our eyes. The rest of us will stay on the ground. You alert us when the Chinese come back for another round."

"Understood, sir. Krestyanov out." Boris clicked off his radio and stood up. He was shaking, for far too many reasons to count. But he couldn’t just sit here and dwell on things, now was the time to get moving. Boris checked the magazines he had left for his weapons. Not that it mattered, of course. The ammo he had, no matter how much it was, wouldn’t be enough. He took some extra clips for his sidearm off of Zhirov’s body, muttering an apology for no real reason.

The elevator for the hotel was broken, so Boris had to ascend the remaining four floors via the stairs before reaching the roof. The trek itself wasn’t all too difficult. But the more time spent not staring through a scope, the more time thinking about the events of the last four hours. When he’d volunteered to join the Red Army, he hadn’t quite expected to be shipped right to a fight after training. And he definitely didn’t expect to be given an order that consisted almost entirely of 'hold the line, wait for support.' Hell of a first assignment.

Boris eventually got to the roof. Door was a bit stuck, but that didn't mean much. A few voices managed to make their way up there from the ground, but he paid them no mind. Instead, he just headed to the southeast corner of the building and set his rifle up. At some point, the voice of Major Gavrilov came back on his radio. Boris didn't pay much attention to what was said, though. It vaguely sounded like an attempt at motivating the squad.

Through his scope, Boris could barely see some of the Chinese soldiers heading back to their makeshift camp. There weren't any helicopters or other air support, just tanks and jeeps and a sea of troops. That meant one of two things. One was that China didn't consider Novosibirsk to be a threat, combat-wise. The more likely option was that they wanted the food and supplies of the city, so they weren't going to bomb it. Which meant this was going to be a siege.

It seemed that the remains of the 43rd would be dug in for the long haul.
I like a good war story as much as the next person, so I liked this one too. More context would be good, though.