June 1943, Germany. Somewhere in the Black Forest:
The castle stood on top of a hill. From his position in the forest, Joe wasn’t impressed. It didn’t match up to the castles he’d imagined when he’d read Ivanhoe. This castle wasn’t much more than a big tower connected to a house. Both were made of stone, but at the end of the day it was smaller than the old monstrosity of a house that Giles Hardwick had grown up in.
He found it hard to make out details in the darkness, but the moon gave enough light for him to notice the two soldiers standing at the top of the tower.
He’d have to kill them both, and he doubted it would be quiet. Continue reading 1943: Part 1 →