The Escape: The Soldier Series Book 3

By Donald Ha

In Korea, there’s a very famous serial novel website, where the book “The Soldier” was first published. Due to the creativity of the author, it became an instant hit with more than 680,000 readers. “The Soldier” is a fantasy novel with the World War II as its background. The story first generated from the question, ‘What if the world of the Wulin actually existed in real life?’ Through the authors imagination, readers are introduced to characters with supernatural powers that start to reveal their abilities when put under extreme situations and are willing to cast their lives to defend what they ought to protect.

Jackal, the main character, is a former German soldier. He’s a person of misfortune, swept up in war against his will and having to change sides multiple times. Coincidentally, Jackal meets Marie-Louise, a Jewish girl who holds an enormous secret. She holds within her the evil spirit of the Blood Demon, the most powerful martial arts wielder in history. Though the two first meet as enemies, they become allies through their fights together against the enemy. Through the heated battles, Jackal discovers that he possesses a miraculous power he never knew he had, which soon sets him in the crosshairs of the Blood Demon within Marie-Louise.

Will Jackal, who was once called the ‘War Devil’ during the WWII, be able to finally safely flee to Argentina and gain his freedom?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Donald Ha
• Release date: Jun 21, 2016
• ISBN: 9788967662271

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The Escape

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ISBN No. 978-89-6766-227-1

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#1323, Officetel 3 Danji, 34 Sajik-ro 8 Gilm Jongno-gu, Seoul, Korea

The Escape

Chapter 15

The streets were dark and the air was cold.

A man was walking on the silent street. The man looked up at the sky and let out a deep sigh.

Phew…

As he breathed out, his breath turned into vapor and dissipated into the air.

The man spoke.

The constellations in the sky are those of summer… but the air is that of winter.

He stopped walking and looked around.

There was light coming from nearby. The man walked toward the light. There was a group of men standing around a barrel trying to keep themselves warm with fire.

The weather must be crazy. It’s freezing!

Do you think this might have something to do with the Soviets driving us into the bunkers? I have a bad feeling about this. Has there ever been a summer that was cold like this?

Maybe they are experimenting with something. You know they dropped a bomb in Japan? Perhaps they are experimenting with that kind of stuff.

You mean an atomic bomb? I don’t think that has anything to do with this cold weather.

The men were the remnants of Berlin. They lost their military registration, along with the purpose of life. They gathered in small clandestine groups and lived yet another unpromising day, defying any orders of the Soviet occupation. 

‘The ones with no future’ was another name for them.

The remnants noticed the strange man wearing a hat. They became wary of the stranger as he came closer.

Get lost.

Clack..

A pistol was pointing at the strange man.

…..

Though the man did not stop, the remnant with the pistol warned again.

If you come any closer, I’ll shoot.

I just have one thing to ask you.

The stranger stopped and pulled out something from his chest pocket.

It was a fifty dollar bill with the portrait of Ulysses Grant, a war hero of the American Civil War.

It was the largest bill amongst the United States currency.

What do you think? I think it’ll be a good deal.

The remnants looked at each other, signaling each another with their eyes.

Soon, the remnant withdrew his pistol.

You pay first.

As the man demanded, the stranger tossed the bill at them. The fifty dollar bill slowly flew toward the remnants in a straight line. It was a bizarre movement that seemed to defy the law of gravity and aerodynamics.

The remnants were all fixed at the magically floating bill. However, it was hard to see the bill clearly in the darkness, and so the remnants disregarded the bizarre movement because they were distracted by the bill in their hands.

What’d you want to ask?

The man who seemed to be the leader asked as he took the bill.

I’m looking for a girl.

A girl?

She’s about 17 years old. A beautiful girl with blond hair and green eyes. I think she might’ve come around here. I was wondering if anyone saw her.

As the man finished his words, the remnants let out a small laugh, and then burst into laughter. Their loud laughter echoed through the streets.

There is no such girl. If there were any, the Russians would have taken them. Or the hyenas would have raped her or sold her to the US army…

‘I guess there are no rumors about her in this area. That means that she’s hiding somewhere…’

The strange man looked around, murmured to himself, and then spoke as he looked at the remnants.

You know of any abandoned bunkers around here?

Ask the hyenas, such as the notorious Huiziga or Zurlinde. But it’ll be hard to find them today.

Why’s that?

What? You don’t know anything? Did you come from the US occupied area?

The man nodded.

An emergency martial law has been declared in the Soviet occupied area. You could be arrested and killed by the NKVD anytime if you’re outside. Better be careful.

‘Just as I thought… the cold air must have something to do with it.’

The man mumbled as he felt the air getting colder and colder. The remnants were slowly getting tired of the strange man.

Anything else?

The man with the pistol shouted.

No, that’s all. But why are you outside when you just said it’s dangerous?

Us?

The remnants smiled cynically.

I guess you don’t know who we are. We are the last elite soldiers of the Müncheberg armored division of the Great German army. The Russians don’t dare to mess with us. You know why? It’s because we are not afraid of dying.

Clack. Clack.

The remnants each pulled out the weapons they were hiding. They had all kinds of weapons, from submachine guns to assault rifles.

The stranger stared at the men aiming at him for a moment, and said quietly.

Very well.

The man took a step forward.

The guns were aimed at the man. 

The fingers, inside the trigger guards, prepared to pull the trigger.

Stomp, stomp.

The man took another step. The remnants pulled their triggers without any hesitation.

However, shots were never fired.

Thump! Thump, thump!

Only the sound of the lifeless bodies dropping to the ground was made. There weren’t any screams.

A sword was standing in front of the corpses. There was neither a speck of blood, nor any dirt on the blade that shone under the stars. 

The remnants said they had no tomorrow, and thus had no fear of death. Though today, they made the wrong choices.

The man that they aimed at was probably one of the most powerful men right now in Berlin. 

Use the fifty dollars on your way to heaven, my fearless friends.

James McCauley didn’t even glimpse at the corpses and looked up at the Berlin sky with firm eyes.

Just as I expected, they are pulling off the counteroffensive tonight. The timing’s not so good, but I guess it’ll be interesting. I shall go see what happens.

James McCauley disappeared into a dark corner as he put the sword back into the sheath.

*

"… What kind of things did you do before you came here?"

The first question, full of curiosity, was asked casually without any awkwardness.

It was one of those questions to trigger a conversation to make friends or to amuse themselves during the march. 

Except for Brezhnev, no one else understood the underlying intentions of the question. This was because the world that the prophet sees is completely different from the one that ordinary people see.

However, the person to whom Brezhnev was talking was not just an ordinary man.

I just did tedious jobs.

Jackal did not mind lying in order to hide himself.

He could change his nationality, profession, and past at his will.

Jackal had lied countless times to the US and Soviet army. Brezhnev never had the chance to extract any information from Jackal.

Really? Just that? You seem to have a special set of skills that couldn’t have come from doing small things.

His intention was to learn about what made Jackal so skillful. However, Jackal responded to his question by staring at him with surprised eyes.

Sir, you’re with the Soviet army. Is that right?

Of course. Why are you asking such an obvious question? We came out together from the barracks with red flags.

Did you not fight in the last war?

I did not.

But every single Russian man between the ages of late teens to thirties were all conscripted and deployed on the battlefield, right?

From the middle of the war, the Soviet communist party mobilized all their local offices to gather every single young men and put them in the battlefield. The soldiers were neither trained nor provided with sufficient equipment. The sole purpose was to try to resist the enemy offensive with pure manpower. 

The number of men killed or wounded in action exceeded twenty million. It was an overwhelming number.

Jackal was indirectly reprimanding him for not fighting in the war while the other young men were massacred in the battlefield.

Brezhnev was clever enough to grasp the hidden meaning behind Jackal’s words. He looked away and replied as he tried to hide his embarrassment.

Uh… well. It’s true. Our job does not include fighting in an all-out war.

I was conscripted because I was just an ordinary man. And I survived.

But how did you do that just before?

What do you mean?

I mean how you defeated the Wulins.

Close combat is not something exclusive to the Wulins. The Japanese do their Banzai attack, and the Russians also have their Woorah(Ура) attack. But Lieutenant, you know what a Woorah attack is, right? It’s a tactic of the red army where a bunch of men charge at the enemy as they cry ‘woora!’

Of course I know what it is.

He was, after all, an officer of the Soviet army. He was rather offended by being questioned as if he didn’t know the basics of the military.

Jackal continued as he stared at Brezhnev’s angry face with a faint smile.

The tactic that I used was originally devised to counter the woorah attack of the Soviet army. It is a variation of a small-unit tactic whereby the gunners hide their machine guns until the last minute and afflict critical damage to the enemy at the last moment.

…..

Brezhnev remained speechless. From this small conversation, he found out that the silent Asian guy was actually an eloquent speaker.

‘Whatever the tactic was, I don’t care. It's like he's mocking me for being inexperienced.’

However, it was true that he didn’t have any experience on the battlefield. He thought it would do no good to talk to Jackal about this matter. Thinking this, he walked away from Jackal and headed towards Ivan Chuikov.

Hey, Ivan Chuikov. Are there any messages from Colonel Rokossowski?

No. I’ve requested several communications with the telepath over there, but there is no response. It seems that they are going through an intense battle.

It could be, since it’s where the main forces of both sides are. We need to move faster.

Three platoons and the Brezhnev platoon had accomplished their missions and were moving swiftly to the border of East Berlin, where Colonel Rokossowski was commanding himself.

There were no further Wulin attacks during the walk.

There were no signs of Wulins even in the locations where they were expected to be. This relieved the soldiers at first, but it started to make them uneasy.

Perhaps they all went to where Colonel Rokossowski is.

Repin was starting to feel that something was wrong. Brezhnev, who was already feeling uneasy, asked Ivan Chuikov in an angry voice.

Hey, Ivan, still no communications?

If I could get through, I would’ve told you.

Ivan Chuikov was troubled too. He shot back quite aggressively. 

Brezhnev’s temper was reaching its limit. He wanted to shout at Ivan, but suppressed the words as the other soldiers looked at him coldly.

He probably realized his status was being undermined in the platoon.

‘Damn… damn it..!’

The leadership of the platoon was already in Jackal’s hands. This was clear just by looking at Krasnaya Repin, who used to follow Brezhnev, but was now following Jackal and waiting for his orders.

He could no longer foresee the future as he lost his crystal ball. He was completely useless at the moment.

…I think we should take that. What do you think?

Jackal pointed at the abandoned truck on the side of the street.

The truck? There aren’t any keys.

Brezhnev asked in surprise. Jackal walked up to the truck, broke the window, opened the door and climbed inside. 

Repin said to Gunther with a grin as she saw all this.

He’s probably done this countless times.

Not long after Jackal was inside, the truck’s engine started to roar.

Jackal signaled to Repin as he got out.

I think the truck’s a little frozen because of the cold air. Warm it up, but don’t burn it.

That’s no fun.

Repin reluctantly walked up to the truck and started to warm it up by surrounding the vehicle with her fire. 

I don’t think 4 platoons can all get in the truck.

Brezhnev said.

He was right. The truck didn’t have enough space for everyone. It could carry Brezhnev platoon, but now there were three other platoons with them.

I agree.

Jackal agreed with Brezhnev. He put down his machine gun and spoke.

I think we have to split. Let the combatants ride the truck. I think they need it more.

That’s a good idea.

Repin commented. Gunther, who was standing beside her, smiled and swung his arms in the air powerfully. 

Let’s go! I’m dying for some action.

The only thing left was to get the permission from the commander, although it was merely a formality.

Lieutenant Brezhnev, would you give me your permission?

Jackal asked.

I guess there’s no other choice. It’s clear that they need more personnel since they’re not answering the communication. Let the combatants go first.

It was a quick decision. It would have made no difference even if he had opposed, but Jackal was satisfied by Brezhnev’s quick decisions.

Very well.

Jackal put down the machine gun.

With this, I think even the Wulins won’t be able to attack us easily. Day will break soon, so the noncombatants can wait here and wait for the results.

The noncombatants were useless at the moment. It was better to leave them here than to take them.

The noncombatants agreed as they knew they couldn’t contribute much in a battle.

Good luck.

The reorganization was quickly done. The noncombatants, including Ivan Chuikov, stayed behind, and the combatants, led by Jackal, came up front.

Now, they just had to keep moving. Jackal saw the streets becoming brighter from the driver’s seat. A bitter smile came to his face.

‘Wait. I think I’m doing too much work.’

He had already killed 12 Wulins and accomplished the primary objectives. Even if he stopped right now and left, the Russians wouldn’t have any complaints about him. He had already done his part of the deal. 

However, today was going to be the last time he got involved in a battle, and the battle was nearing its end.

Today’s battle may be the last battle of his life.

He had already gathered ten thousand dollars. The only thing waiting for him was the land of the gaucho, Argentina. In the peaceful and leisurely life of Argentina, he would never feel the need to shoot guns or fight with someone.

‘I guess I could do this pro bono. Only if I don’t encounter that guy…!’

He thought of the Warlord. Just thinking of him gave Jackal the chills.

If he met him again, he had little chance of staying alive.

At the same time, Jackal remembered the excitement he felt when he had defeated the undefeatable.

…Let’s go!

Too much thought was not good for him.

The truck started moving. The soldiers who were left behind waved at them.

Be safe!

See you later!

Jackal stepped on the gas as he looked at each of them through the side mirror. Then a familiar voice came from behind.

Wait! I’m coming with you!

An unexpected man