Arc of Fire

"The ’doctor’ got on the motorcycle and said to the driving commando team member, "Wait a moment, let me finish disguising myself."

After speaking, he took out a makeup box, opened it, removed his military cap and hung it on the motorcycle’s rearview mirror, took off his glasses and placed them on his lap, and began to work in front of the makeup box’s mirror.

The motorcycle driver watched the doctor’s operation, his eyes gradually widening, until he looked like he had seen a ghost, mouth agape.

The ’doctor,’ having completed his work, put the eyebrow pencil back in the makeup box, snapped it shut, and looked at the driver, "Don’t act so clueless; your wife would know this trick too."

"I’m not married," the driver honestly replied.

The ’doctor’ paused, looked at the driver and asked, "What if you die on such a dangerous mission?"

The driver laughed, "Then the United Kingdom would have one less woman crying. Isn’t that good?"

The ’doctor’ thought for a moment and then laughed as well, "That’s not wrong, but your captain, Jonathan, made sure to get married quickly after returning from his first mission."

"That’s because love came knocking. If I could make the headlines and become a household-name hero, I’d probably be married too. Are you ready?"

"Hold on!" The doctor stored his makeup box, put the old identity papers in his bag, took out a new set of documents for his pocket, and then put on his glasses and military cap, "Okay, let’s go!"

The driver revved the engine, and the motorcycle roared into action, leaving the hiding spot to join the flow of traffic on the road, speeding past a long line of trucks and swiftly overtaking seven or eight of them.

They passed through a checkpoint directing traffic, where a captain, upon seeing the ’doctor’s’ rank, stepped aside to clear the way.

Since everyone’s attention was on the motorcycle, no one at the checkpoint noticed a group of people taking advantage of the recently fallen night to crawl under the trucks off the shoulder of the road.

Soon, the motorcycle reached the gate of the Bridgehead Fort, stopping before the obstructing officer. The ’doctor’ got off, saying nothing at first, but reached for a gold-plated cigarette case, pulled out a cigarette, and placed it in a long holder.

He bit down on the holder, moved in front of the obstructing officer, and gave him a meaningful look.

The officer was a Prosenese major who hadn’t recognized that the ’doctor’ was really the colonel they had just seen, nor did he notice that the motorcycle’s license plate hadn’t been changed.

The major hesitated for a moment, but still pulled out a lighter and lit the ’doctor’s’ cigarette.

The doctor took a strong puff and asked in a curry-flavored Prosenese, "What’s going on here? You’re blocking your own retreating troops, obstructing your field of fire. You know the Anteans are very good at close combat!"

Indeed, the long column of vehicles had completely blocked the machine guns’ firing arc at the Bridgehead Fort, and the anti-aircraft cannons could not cover the highway either, allowing Antean infantry to safely charge to close range.

The major glanced at the convoy, shook his head: "We’ve been ordered not to let anyone through, but I don’t want these people blocking our field of fire either, so please have them go back; talking to me won’t help."

As soon as he finished speaking, a Balas Army commander shouted: "There are a hundred thousand Ante Army troops landing on the beach (actually there weren’t), with hundreds of tanks (not that many either). If we go, it’s a suicide mission! Their general is that Rocossov, someone who escaped saw him with their own eyes. Rocossov holding a Red Flag, and the troops passing by him immediately had their eyes flare red!"

The major sneered, "That’s superstition. Rocossov isn’t that supernatural! He was just recently run off from Yeisk by the Empire, with his forces cut in half! He’s nothing special!"

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This was Prosen’s propaganda style, similar to "Earth’s" radio reports claiming exaggerated enemy casualties, and in the future there would likely be more of such cases. ꞦΆNȎ฿ĘŠ

The doctor said, "Look at their morale, no, they won’t go back. You should report this to your commander, let them pass so you can clear your field of fire, and they can try to escape inland. Maybe as they run, they’ll regain their confidence and can once again become auxiliary forces sharing the Empire’s burdens."

The Prosen pondered and turned toward the checkpoint phone, lifted the receiver and said, "Connect me to Colonel Lepont. Colonel, the retreating Balas troops are blocking our field of fire, should we let them cross the bridge first? Right now, they’re useless to us, and if the Anteans attack, they might even rush our defenses and detonate our mines.

"Yes, they are terrified of the Anteans and that Rocossov. Yes, they swear they saw Rocossov in Balas. Alright, I salute you."

After hanging up, the Prosenese major turned to the ’doctor’, "The major has agreed. However, I suddenly remembered, I have not yet confirmed your identity, might I ask..."

The ’doctor’ produced his documents, "Your request is legitimate; here are my credentials."

The major frowned: "This is in Balasian, you should have temporary credentials we can understand, those printed on paper..."

The doctor took out a ring bearing the Balas Royal Family’s crest, "Can you understand this?"

The Balas officer was scared stiff, stepping back to kneel on the ground, "Your Highness!"

The Prosenese major glanced at the Balasians and saluted the ’doctor’, "My apologies, I had not realized I was in the presence of a prince!"

The ’doctor’ shook his head, "It’s all right; we have so many princes, don’t we? It’s not surprising that one is willing to go to the front lines. So, may my troops pass through now?"

The Prosenese major nodded, "Of course."

He turned to his soldiers and ordered, "Remove the barricades! Let them through!"

The well-trained Prosenese quickly moved all the barricades aside.

The kneeling Balas officer looked up gratefully at the ’doctor’, "Your Highness, I will never forget your great kindness."

"Go quickly," the ’doctor’ gestured with his hand. In truth, he was quite worried about being asked "Which prince are you?" He couldn’t wait for the Balasians to leave, leaving only the Prosenese who were easier to deceive.

The convoy passed the checkpoint, heading for the bridge.

The Prosenese soldiers on the bridge had apparently received orders, as they did not stop the convoy.

Everyone’s attention was focused on the convoy; even the Prosenese sentries in the outer towers were watching Balas trucks pass by, oblivious to the commando team sneaking through the minefield in the darkness.

On the convoy side, the moment the sixth truck drove onto the bridge, the sentries at the checkpoint turned their gaze to the next vehicle, their line of sight blocked by the trucks—in that instant, a figure crawled from under a truck and dashed into the shadows of the building.

After getting down from the truck, the figure quickly moved beneath the bridge to the other side and found the detonator wire for the explosives.

He took out an engineer cutter, and with a snap, cut the wire.

At that moment, the searchlights on the other side of the valley swept over, and the figure hurriedly tucked into the shadow of a bridge pillar.

While trucks were still crossing the bridge surface.

On the other side of the bridge, shadows continuously hopped off the trucks in the blind spot of the Prosenese’s field of vision and rolled into the darkness.

At the same time, the infiltrating Commandos made their way past the minefields and barbed wire.

Sentry Hans was lazily sneaking a smoke when suddenly someone patted his shoulder.

He was startled, thinking it was an officer coming to inspect the guard, and his cigarette dropped to the ground. Turning around, he found a fellow soldier like himself and breathed a sigh of relief, "Damn it, you scared me to death—"

Then his mouth was gagged, and iron hands strangled his throat from behind. Seconds later, there was a snap, his neck broke, and he stopped struggling.

Hans was dragged into the shadows, and another sentry half a head taller took his place, looking around "alertly."

Several fully armed Commandos passed by the sentry.

Over by the doctor, seeing that the convoy had almost passed, he said to the Prosenese Major, "Where is your commander? I want to meet with him."

The Major said hurriedly, "He’s in that barrack over there, the one with the Balasian flag hanging at the door."

After all, these Prosenese troops were still wearing Balasian uniforms, so naturally, they also flew the Balasian flag.

At this moment, the doctor had already seen the Commando Team members hiding in the shadows, ready to seize the checkpoint, so he said, "You take me there."

Taking the commander away would slow down the troops’ reaction to the attack later.

And indeed, the Prosenese were disciplined, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t slack off when an officer wasn’t around.

The Major showed difficulty on his face, "I should hold my position here."

The doctor replied, "What does it matter? Nothing’s going to happen in just these few seconds!"

The Major thought for a moment, then nodded, "Alright, I’ll take you there. Herman, you take command!"

A Master Sergeant with two wound medals saluted the Major, "Understood!"

These Prosenese, although dressed in Balasian military uniforms, refused to give up their own medals; that Master Sergeant was even wearing an Iron Cross inside his Balasian uniform’s collar!

The doctor took another look at the Master Sergeant, then followed the Major inside.

The motorcycle driver quickly parked the motorcycle to the side and followed with submachine gun in hand.

The Major looked at the driver warily, "This is..."

The doctor interrupted, "My bodyguard, he’s mute. I bought him from a slave market; he knows Ceres martial arts!"

The driver hurriedly made a "Ah-da" sound and gestured.

The Major had an expression of incomprehension.

The doctor asked, "Don’t the princes of Prosen hire these wondermen and marvels?"

The Major shook his head, "His Majesty is still young, and he hasn’t even married yet."

"I see, I suppose he must be a virtuous and outstanding Emperor," the doctor said, carefully gauging the effect of the flattery.

Clearly, the effect was quite good, and the Major concurred wholeheartedly, "Yes, His Majesty has made Prosen greater than ever! He even conquered the whole of Europa!"

The doctor said, "That’s right, I suppose Ante will be conquered within the next six months, yes?"

"Of course! The Minister of Propaganda says that once we take Abawahan, Ante will have to surrender. They won’t have enough fuel for heating and will all freeze to death!"

The doctor replied, "Is that so!"

Chatting like this, the group entered Headquarters, all the way to the Commander’s office.

Upon entering the office, the Major introduced, "Colonel Hawke, this is... uh, how should I address Your Highness?"

Just as the doctor was about to respond, a sudden explosion was heard outside.

Colonel Hawke turned to look outside and immediately pressed the alarm button on the desk.

The shrill alarm immediately blared.

The Major turned to rush out of the room to his battle position, but the "mute bodyguard" of the "prince" had already locked the door, and began firing the submachine gun.

The Major was hit with six shots, falling backward—

Colonel Hawke drew his pistol, but was struck by the doctor’s cane and knocked away.

Then the doctor donned the ring with the Balasian Royal Family’s seal and punched the Colonel in the face.

The Colonel’s jaw skewed to the side, and two teeth flew out, bouncing off the wall.

As the teeth hit the floor, the Colonel leaned against the wall and slowly slid down.

The "mute bodyguard" asked, "Where did you get that ring?"

The doctor answered, "They sell them as souvenirs in the Royal Capital, 21 pence each."

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