Workshop: Colleen Thomas, story thread

[KillerMuffin]

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Cold Reception


Annika Kubolinkov lay still in the quickly deepening snow. Her white camouflage parka and neutrally colored trousers blended perfectly with the new fallen snow, rendering her nearly invisible in the pale evening light. She peered into the thickening gloom over the edge of a burned out tank track that had been thrown from a German machine after Red Army artillery had found its range early that morning. The monster Panther tank lay a few yards away, its blackened turret was askew and soot marks could bee seen at the hatches where the infernal fires had found an outlet. A burned corpse hung out of the top hatch and smoke still curled from the fires that had raged within. The heat of those fires had long since dissipated, but the huge chunk of metal made a good windbreak.

The snow had been falling since midday and had slowly blanketed the blasted landscape, blurring the sharp lines of shell craters and softening the outline of blasted trees. Bodies too lay under that snow. Faceless men who had died in this little corner of hell and who’s loved ones would never know what happened to them. When Annika had taken up her position the area looked like pictures she had seen of no man’s land from the Great War. Now it reminded her of home. Home. Time and horror had so shattered her perception of that the very word sounded alien to her.

One hundred yards down range five men huddled next to another tank. This was one of the mammoth Tigers and the men steadily fed wood into a fire burning under it. The fire was to heat it up so they could start the engine in the morning. The frigid weather made oil freeze and they did not have the fuel to run the engine all night anymore. Once they had been the invincible juggernaught of Hitler’s Third Reich, now they were reduced to a decimated remnant of the glory days. Annika caressed the wooden stock of her rifle and rubbed the snow off of the sights. The rifle was special to her, almost like a lover. It was a German Mauser model 98K with a Zielfernrohre 39 scope. With it she had killed over seventy Germans since the red army entered Poland in late January.

It was an impressive score for any sniper, but Annika would never appear in the newsreels in Moscow. She would never be called a hero of the Soviet Union. Annika held no rank in the Red Army, not that the Germans would have cared one way or the other as they did not recognize Red Army rank among partisans. She received no funding or training from the NKVD. She did not fight for Stalin, for Communism, nor for a commander, she fought for mother Russia. For mother Russia and her personal vengeance. Vengeance for her lost family, vengeance for her slaughtered village, vengeance for the brutal loss of her virginity, but most of all vengeance for her loss of innocence.

When Germany surprised the Red Army and swept across Western Russia in 1941 Annika had been a mere child of sixteen. She had stood silently with the rest of her village as the German army entered. There had been a great deal of fear of the hun among the elders, but those fears had proved to be unfounded. The officers and men of the Wemacht were polite if rather stern and rolled through stopping only to forage for supplies. Even in this they had not been brutal or overly zealous. Some milk, a few eggs, some bread, nothing many of the villagers would not have gladly given them anyway. She had seen the famed German general Heinz Guderian, but at the time the name had meant nothing to her. After the tanks came infantry in trucks and half-tracks. She had stood and watched them roll through the village, an endless parade of men in gray coats and black boots until her mother had forced her to come inside. The evening meal had been taken in silence, but it seemed to young Annika that her parents were filled with hope and a guarded joy. They were Belorussians and some of the people in the village looked on the Germans as liberators. That had lasted until the next evening.

Hours behind the real soldiers came the men she would learn to hate and hunt, the sadists of the Einsatzgruppen. Special action groups, autonomous, ruthless and sadistic they had begun immediately to round up Jews, communists and other “undesirables”. What followed would remain forever burned into her mind, an orgy of rape, murder and senseless destruction. Her father and brothers had been shot and her mother dragged screaming to the bedroom by leering men. Even her tender years did not spare her and she lost her virginity to the first of many rapists that day. The last had been a cold man called Werner who seemed to have more feelings for his prized rifle than for any of the helpless people in the village. He did not even bother to lower his trousers. When he finished and rolled off of her Annika had seized the Lugar from his belt and shot him once through the temple.

She had taken the rifle he had so carefully set by the door and had escaped into the night, a times dragging herself through the burning fields. She was bleeding badly, and her insides hurt horribly. Twice she threw up, but she finally reached the small cave where she and her brothers had played as children. She slept then, never sure for exactly how long. When she awakened it was dark and cold outside. It took her a moment to realize where she was and to have the horror of that day wash over her again. She could hear the screams of her mother, of people being machine gunned in the streets, the hoarse shouting of the Germans and the grunts of the men taking their turn with her. She cautiously went down to the stream and washed herself, removing caked blood and semen. It was still dark when she snuck back to her village. When she got there she found her village was gone, a cold pile of ashes and unburied corpses was all that was left.

In reprisal for the killing of a German soldier the Einsatzgruppen Commander had given orders for the village to be burned to the ground and the inhabitants slaughtered. From that day to this she hunted Germans and killed them. Neither rank, nor age, nor branch mattered to her. She killed them all, from hiding, from long range. She gained a reputation for cold-blooded killing efficiency that earned her the title of the Snow Witch. The average German soldier feared her as much as the icy winds and freezing cold that had cost so many of them their lives.

She opened the bolt of her well-oiled rifle and inserted five cartridges, tossing the striper clip into the snow. When she slid the bolt home the first of the long 7.92mmm shells seated and the firing pin was primed. She sighted carefully and slowly breathed in, as she did so she set the cross hairs on the head of the German she assumed was the officer of the tank and gently squeezed. The heavy rifle bucked against her shoulder and she lost sight picture as she worked the bolt smoothly. She acquired a second target and had only a moment to record the surprised face of a young blonde man before the gun barked again. The remaining three dived for cover, but they were unsure of where she was and two took cover behind the tank, which only served to set a perfect backdrop for her.

Her next shot splattered blood and brains all over the side of the tank as it passed through the driver’s ear. By the time she had worked the bolt again there were no Germans in sight. Annika lifted her eye from the scope and peered ahead. The scope gave such a narrow field of vision that it was hard to acquire a target once they began moving. Soon her naked eye picked up a flash of movement near the tank. She immediately returned her eye to the scope and moved to where she had seen movement. She found the source of that movement, the second soldier had dived flat and crawled behind a rock, but he was now moving towards the tank again. Annika relaxed and let him work his way closer. She could have fired then, but at this range shooting at prone target was a low percentage shot. Annika could only collect ammunition from her vanquished foes. Cartridges were as precious as gemstones to her and she never wasted them when it wasn’t absolutely necessary.

Like all hunters she knew her prey and his tendencies. Tankers would struggle to get back into the protective shell of their tanks and infantry would try to burrow into the ground. He would make a mad dash for that hatch soon and she moved her scope to cover the driver’s hatch on the front hull. She was taking a calculated risk. The man might try for the commander’s hatch in the turret, but she felt sure she had killed the commander with her first shot. She also expected the man to throw himself at the closest available route, which was the hatch on the fore hull.

It was a dangerous game Annika played because if the man reached the tank he could simply blast away at the world with it’s machine guns and god help her if he managed to get the main gun into action by himself. The big 88mm high velocity cannon would not even have to be particularly close to her if he managed to fire it. Also, there was the fifth man. He had disappeared as soon as the shooting began, Annika could ill afford to be watching the tank with such concentration that she allowed him to sneak up on her. A dangerous game it was, but she had played it many times since Stalingrad and she would play it many more if the fates permitted her to.

A flash of movement, her scope filed with gray and the sharp crack of the Mauser seemed to be one event. She pulled her eye from the scope to see the man fall backwards into the snow. He writhed around, shot through the spine, but the Russian woman sent no mercy bullet. She watched casually as he bled to death, her keen eyes now searching the increasingly murky ground for the fifth man. Over time she had developed a keen sense of what the world should look like. Her eyes darted over the landscape before her, but some small thing tugged at her consciousness. Something was slightly wrong, slightly out of place. In a moment she realized what it was and her eye returned to the scope. She carefully surveyed the camp through the magnified view until she came to rest on a large boulder. There, at the very edge she found what had been out of place. A boot, or more precisely, the toe of one.

Annika could not tell if the boot was that of a man, or one that had been simply tossed there. She played back through her mind the hours she had spent watching the camp, at no time could she remember a man being near the boulder and only a fool would remove his boots in the icy cold. Still, this was the German army in retreat and who could say how many men had already passed over this frozen ground in headlong flight. The nearest town was over ten miles away and even though they were technically behind the front only a fool would think he was safe here.

Annika calmly opened the bolt on her rifle, catching the last cartridge as it exited and placing it in her parka pocket. From her belt she took a second stripper clip and filled the magazine. A running man might throw many things away she reasoned; his gun, his pack, even his coat if the need were great enough, but only a dead man gave up his boots here. Feeling confidant that the boot belonged to the last of the five soldiers she again sighted in and slowly squeezed off a round. The sharp crack of the rifle was followed by a flat thudding sound and a sharp scream. A man jumped up and for just a moment he was silhouetted against the lighter background of the trees. The rifle cracked again and the solid thudding of it striking was unusually loud in the crisp cold air.

So crisp that Annika wondered if she had perhaps missed the man and hit one of the trees behind him. Her second shot had been rushed and she could not be sure she had hit the mark. She chambered another round automatically, but her mind was already going over the situation and her options. Four dead Germans and a probable fifth was more than a days work for her. Not knowing if that fifth man yet lived the wisest course would be to pull back to her hidden camp and come back in the morning. On the other hand with the German army collapsing around her the odds of anything useful making it through the night were slim. Stragglers were everywhere, not to mention polish partisans, refuges and advance patrols of the first Ukrainian Front. Annika was desperately short of ammunition and food. She also wanted the greatcoat off the first man she had shot because it would help in the long cold night.

Annika had been very lucky and had survived the many mistakes she made when she first started on her personal odyssey of vengeance. Now she was a seasoned veteran of many campaigns. Rather than approach the camp she stood slowly and pulled on her almost empty haversack, which was another trophy. She carefully circled the camp keeping low and watchful for any movement. When she reached the other side of the camp she could clearly see the dead man who had been hiding behind the rocks. Still wary of a trap she closed in slowly, taking advantage of the natural cover and her relative invisibility in the gathering twilight. As she entered the weak circle of light cast by the dying fire she held her Lugar in her hand.

The man behind the rock had taken her bullet in the side and it had passed clean through him. The pool of black blood beneath him was quickly becoming scummed with ice, but it showed Annika that she had damaged his liver. Two others had taken head hits and were undeniably dead. Her second target was also dead; he lay face down in the snow in another pool of icy blood. The man she had shot through the back was still alive. Blood trickled from the corners of his mouth and ran down his face. His nostrils flared as Annika stood over him and he painfully tried to speak.

“Schneehexe”

He was young, probably not even out of his teens yet. His face was handsome with a bit of blonde peach fuzz he probably called a beard. He had deep blue eyes that showed his fear and pain more eloquently than any words. Annika hated the German enemy, but she was not a heartless killing machine, at least not yet. She knelt by the boy and as she softly spoke to him she brought the Lugar to his head and killed him with a single shot. She was not often moved to mercy, but she still had feelings though she buried them deep. It was boys such as this, young men raised in the lies of the Fuehrer’s Germany without a chance to know any better that she could still feel for.

The children of the Hitler youth. Annika felt a kinship to these soldiers because they too had been robbed of their innocence. While her ordeal had been a single brutal moment in time, theirs had been a slow process. They were as savage as any of the soldiers she had fought and often their atrocities drove her to rage, but she always remembered that they were not at fault, they had been raised to be this way. Denied access to information, spoon-fed the Nazi party and its twisted racial philosophy, kept away from other peoples, other ideas, trained to kill without compunction. They were victims too; even as they were the perpetrators of heinous crimes they were also victims.

Annika closed the dead boy’s eyes and whispered a prayer for his departed soul. As she rose something moved near the tank and she whirled to face it. An ill formed shape lay near the front of the big tank. Annika approached carefully, ready to fire is she sensed the slightest danger. The form was that of a person, covered in an old blanket. She knew that five was the number of a tank crew, yet in their headlong retreat it was entirely possible this crew had picked up another man. If it was a man he was small and hurt or incapacitated in some way because he did not stir again. Annika reached down and caught the corner of the sheet and then ripped it off, aiming her pistol at the center of the body.

Her first impression was hair, long dark hair thrown this way and that by the blanket being ripped off. Next it was the eyes, large, dark, and impossibly expressive. She was momentarily shocked to realize it was a girl. She wore only a thin shift and her hands and feet were bound. A filthy rag was wound around her head and she had several cuts and bruises on her face. She was obviously terribly frightened by the grim figure and the menace of the pistol. She groaned into her gag and shrank before Annika.

The Russian woman threw the blanket back over the girl and turned on the bodies of the Germans, already she regretted her mercy shot. Trying not to think of the girl she clambered up the side of the tank and dropped into the dark interior with her pistol still at the ready. The interior stank of unwashed men, sweat, diesel and mold. Bolted to one wall was a rifle similar to her own. She removed it and tossed it out the driver’s hatch. She found a belt of cartridges, which she threw over her shoulder and a second Lugar, which she jammed into her waistband.

She also found food, old bread, a half of a cheese, some tins of meat and two bottles of wine. All of this went into her pack, along with a knife, 2 blankets, some medical supplies and a heavy coat. She smashed the instruments with the butt of the Lugar before climbing back out.

Annika moved from man to man, despoiling them with the calloused indifference of long practice. She found a few Reich’s marcs, another pistol, and a curious flask, which held some snapps. The officer’s greatcoat was still in good condition and she took it after carefully cutting off the epaulettes and other symbols of rank and identification. She needed to be moving because her shots might have attracted unwanted attention, but her eyes returned to the girl under the blanket. An extra person to care for was not something she wanted or needed. The hunter always worked alone. She turned and started to walk away, but each step seemed to take a lifetime and she found herself glancing back again and again.

I can’t just leave her, she thought as she turned and hurried back. The girl wasn’t moving when Annika reached her and threw back the blanket. She was still conscious, those big eyes still staring, but her lips were blue and she was shivering frightfully. Annika pulled out her knife and those big brown eyes showed the girl’s fear.

“I’m not going to hurt you, do you understand me?” Annika grunted in Russian.

The girl nodded that she understood and Annika breathed a sigh of relief. She spoke practically no Polish and very little German. At least the girl’s understanding of Russian would help in communications until she could be rid of her.

Annika cut the bonds holding the girl’s hands and feet. She sat up and pulled off the gag, spitting out a mouthful of dirt. Annika did not trust her, but she could tell the girl was freezing and was no threat for the present, so she went and stripped clothes off the Germans. Her shooting had ruined some of them, but she managed to get 4 pairs of socks, 3 trousers, 2 shirts, 2 uniform jackets, a coat and tunic top, along with a slouch hat. The smallest pair of boots would still be very large on the girl, but the extra pairs of socks just might be enough to allow her to walk without getting blisters. She returned and dumped them by the girl.

“Get dressed, quickly,” Annika said.

“I will not wear the rags of these barbarians,” the girl said tilting her head up proudly.

“Freeze then,” Annika said with a shrug.

The girl looked distastefully at the pile of stained clothing, but the wind was beginning to howl and she realized it was a matter of survival.

“Turn your back,” she said. Annika snorted derisively, but turned her back on the girl and walked to the edge of the encampment. It was dark now and she realized it would be a minor miracle if she could even find her camp. Already the swirling wind was picking up snow and visibility was down to a few feet. Presently the girl joined her. Annika was hard pressed not to laugh and eventually gave in to the temptation. The girl looked like a child playing dressup and Annika realized she had not laughed in what seemed an eternity.

The girl shot her a look that would have killed, but said nothing. Annika started off into the snow and wind with a smile behind her scarf. The long march was draining and before long the girl began to lag behind. Annika slowed her pace, but soon the girl collapsed in the snow and just lay there without moving. Annika trudged back to her and tried to rouse her, but she was unconscious. The Russian woman shrugged and heaved the girl up and onto her shoulder. She had worked on a farm until the war and heavy burdens were nothing new to her. An hour later she lucked into finding the small stream that ran near her camp. It still took forty-five minutes in the nearly impeneatrable dark before she found it.

Her camp was in a light copse of woods, where she had found an overturned polish tank. An obvious remnant of the Russian occupation of 1939 it formed a perfect windbreak and with a little work Annika had built a lean-to that was very snug. She placed the girl on top of the small pile of blankets she used as her bed and then covered her with the blankets from her pack. Annika next used some of the limbs she had gathered to light a small fire. Usually she would not risk a fire, but with the wind and snow she felt safer and the girl obviously needed the warmth.

She had planned to sleep, but with the girl occupying her bed and the danger of a fire she decided she would have to remain awake. Annika leaned back against the tank and sank deeper into the coat. The lively little fire was kicked up by the wind and she could almost believe this was a camping trip with her father and brothers. As she reminisced about the life she had lived before the war she fed more fuel into the fire. Annika did not know it, but she was coming to the end of her time as the angel of death. The hate inside of her had nearly burned itself out and the better instincts were trying now to overcome it. Her gesture of mercy had been the first victory of her better nature. The girl was a catalyst for change, but she did not know this yet either.


Morning dawned dreary and pale, the snow continued to fall and was heavier now, great wet flakes that soaked into anything they touched. Annika stood and shook off the flakes that had gathered on her coat. She walked to the edge of the trees and looked out, but visibility was so bad she could see nothing. She relieved herself and then returned to the fire. The Russian stoked the little flame and took out the single pot she carried for cooking. Rather than use water from her canteen she gathered snow and melted it until she had plenty of water boiling. She tossed in some heavy flour, one of the tins of German meat, a large sliver of the cheese and a few other odds and ends from her pack.

It cooked down quickly into a thick soup and Annika ate it with relish. Hot food was a luxury she was almost never afforded by her solitary and dangerous life. Even the bread, which was several days old tasted good and she finished of her small feast with a shot of the snapps. It was strong and fiery and she relished the warmth in her mouth after it had gone down.

“You’re not very big for a Cossack,”

Annika’s head snapped around at the sound, she had almost forgotten what someone speaking without anger or fear sounded like. The girl was sitting up and staring at her with those deep, soft eyes.

“I’m no Cossack,” Annika said.

“I know. I’m trying to decide exactly what you are and why you have brought me here, wherever here is”

“My name is Annika. I brought you here because I couldn’t just leave you to freeze,”

“Annika? Very well Annika, my name is Danuta. What do you intend to do with me?”

“I will take you somewhere safe, perhaps Rovno,” Annika said as she shrugged.

“Safe?” the girl said and raised an eyebrow, “nowhere is safe in this world turned upside down,” and then laughed bitterly. Annika shrugged again.

“You would prefer I return you to the Germans?” The girl’s eyes flashed then, showing anger as readily as they had fear.

“You say that as if the Russians are any different, but I know better. You are all intruders here and I have been subjected to the tender mercies of both swine,” she said with a voice so filled with hatred and disgust that Annika felt as if she had been struck.

They sat in silence for a long while before Annika stood and walked to the edge of her camp again. The snow was worse and she could not even see the tank or her fire. She returned and sat back down, adding sticks to the fire.

“It is a bad day to hunt,” she said out loud. She said it to explain to the girl, or so she told herself, but it sounded more like she was tying to convince herself of the fact. Annika had gone out to fight in weather far worse than this, but somehow she did not want to leave the comfortable little fire or the girl with the flashing eyes. The girl sat in silence for a long time and then hesitantly spoke.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you. I owe you my life and should be grateful to you. I…I’m not used to kindness and have forgotten how to respond to it I’m afraid,”

“Until I found you I thought I had forgotten how to be kind,”

“I did not think you could forget that, ignore it perhaps but not forget,”

“You can forget.” Annika assured her, “Kindness becomes weakness and weakness means death. It isn’t that hard. All of the conventions of society are unnatural. Kindness, mercy, faith, love they are all unknown in the animal world,”

“Yes, and they are what sets us apart from the animals,” she aid softly. This time it was Annika who retorted angrily.

“I would take the four legged animals over those that walk on two,”

Danuta seemed to be at a loss for words. She started to speak several times, but finally clamped her mouth shut and said nothing. Annika took another swallow of the schnapps and then passed the flask over to the girl. She sniffed daintily at the flask then took a sip. Annika burst out laughing when Danuta gagged and spluttered. He pretty eyes were watering and she coughed. Annika took the flask back from her shaking hand and had another sip. She sighed contentedly as the warmth spread though her stomach and into her limbs.

“Is there something to eat? I’m hungry,” the girl said. Annika immediately passed her the rest of the soup and a chunk of the bread. The girl looked at it doubtfully, but ate. Even here in the wild she ate daintily, with an elegant and refined manner.

“Thank you,” she said when she was done.

“I can tell you are used to better. It’s all I have,” Annika said. She was angered with herself for the apology, unsure of why she had made it.

“Perhaps once I was, but that was in a different world,”

“Tell me about it,” Annika said. She was feeling relaxed, content and a little buzzed. The girl’s voice was pleasant. Her Russian had a strong polish accent, but it was almost musical to Annika who had not shared a conversation with another human being in many months.

“Well,” she said while looking at Annika. When she seemed satisfied that the Russian woman really wanted to hear she continued, “My father and mother were both teachers. I was brought up in a very liberal and enlightened home. I knew I wanted to be a teacher too from a very young age. When I was old enough my parents allowed me to travel for two years before I made up my mind. I saw Vienna, Paris and Berlin before the Nazi’s took over. I went to galleries, the opera, saw museums and Cathedrals, read the classics. You cannot imagine the beauty that I found in those magical two years. I also discovered the nightlife, the cafes, bistros, clubs and restaurants. I discovered much about the world, and more importantly I discovered much about myself. I found there were clubs and publications for people like me…”

“Poles?” Annika interrupted.

Danuta began to laugh softly. Annika was puzzled, but wanted to hear more. The girl’s voice seemed to transport her to those wondrous places and Annika felt a keen desire to see them for herself.

“How old are you Annika?” Danuta asked.

“I do not know, I think twenty, but perhaps I am twenty-one,”

“Not so different from me then, but so many worlds removed,”

“What do you mean?”

Before the girl could answer Annika heard the sound of movement outside the camp. She moved quickly and covered the startled girl’s mouth with her hand. With her other hand she placed a finger over her lips. When the girl nodded Annika released her and took up her rifle. She lay in the snow with the fire between herself and the sound and waited. Time moved slowly and the girl began to fidget uncomfortably, but Annika remained as still as if she were carved in stone. She knew there was someone out there, knew it as instinctively as a wild animal could sense danger.

There were two of them and they were moving carefully towards the camp. Annika recognized them as Germans from their weapons, Schmeissers. One of them called out in German for Danuta to raise her hands and stand. The frightened girl looked to Annika, who nodded ever so slightly. Danuta stood slowly and held her hands up. The two men advanced warily, while Annika patiently waited for them to move to a point where she could see both. One stopped and leaned against a tree as the other advanced. Annika calmly sighted in on him and waited for the second one to clear the edge of the trees. Through the scope she could tell he wore the black uniform of the SS. He also wore a long black coat and Annika shifted her aim from his heart to his head, hoping she could recover the garment for Danuta.

She was watching them both now, but her attention was centered on the one in her sights. She followed the other’s progress with her peripheral vision and the moment he was out of the cover of the trees she took up the slack and the rifle bucked against her shoulder. Even as she worked the bolt she yelled for Danuta to get down and the German started firing. The rifle bolt slammed into place and with long practiced ease as she acquired the second target. The gun roared again, it’s crisp bark eclipsing the staccato hammering of the submachine gun. The Schmeisser fell silent and in that quiet there seemed to be no sound in all of the world. Annika moved quickly to the second man, he was dead, the shot having taken him through the heart. She ran to her original target and ripped the coat off the corpse. She would have liked to search him more thoroughly, but she felt an impending sense of doom. As she raced back to camp she snatched up the sub machine gun as she passed the first German.

She tossed the coat and gun at Danuta’s feet and hastily began to slam her few belongings into the haversack. Danuta stood there as if in shock.

“Put it on, hurry,” Annika whispered urgently. Out there in the fog voices were calling. Too many voices. Danuta mechanically put the coat on, but refused to touch the weapon.

Annika snatched up the weapon and thrust it into the girl’s hands. She shrank from it and Annika lost control in her fear and slapped her hard across the mouth.

“Take it!”

The girl seemed to snap out of whatever trance she had been in. She took the weapon and Annika bent and grabbed her rifle and haversack.

“I do not know what is happening, so do not ask me. We are in danger and we must get away from here. Follow me and do what I do. If I stop then you must stop. If I lie down you must too and if I tell you to run you must run as far and a fast as you can, do you understand me?”

“Yes, but I could never use this,” she said holding the MP-3 awkwardly.

“I did not expect you too, but we walk among the enemy, in the clothes you wear you could pass as a small man at a distance in this snow, but if you have no weapon you will be immediately stopped and questioned,”

The voices from the woods were becoming strident and Annika glanced that way then back to Danuta.

“Our time is up, follow me,”

Danuta leaned forward and kissed Annika full on the lips. Annika was slightly surprised, but not too put off. She was used to people kissing in greeting and on parting. She smiled and then stood up and led off into the white nothingness.

It was a strange, white, almost ethereal realm in which they walked. Progress was slow and Danuta had to stay right on Annika’s heels or risk loosing her guide. They moved slowly, Annika trusting her senses to avoid the line of Germans. If they came near enough to hear one they stopped and waited for him to move on. Annika slowly began to get a feel for this enemy. They were strung out in a skirmish line, sweeping slowly forward. The feeling of danger was heightened when she realized it seemed to be a search pattern. It took them well over two hours to traverse the field Annika had passed over in less than fifteen minutes the morning before.

There was noting to see, no landmarks of any kind and soon Annika was lost in the seemingly tractless whiteness. She continued to avoid moving soldiers and soon she felt they had groped their way out of the trap. Now she began to concentrate on trying to get her bearings, but there was simply no way to do so. She was beginning to feel panic rise in her when a dark shape loomed up out of the snow. She shrank from it at first, but suddenly realized it was the demolished Panther she has used as a wind block. Her confidence returned as she treaded carefully towards the Tiger but it did not appear and she realized it had been moved when she found the boulder the man had been hiding behind.

----

The door to the barn was hanging by a single hinge with over three feet of snow piled against it. Danuta was barely able to stand and Annika could feel the cold sapping the last of her ebbing strength. She could not pull the door open but found she could push the damaged one inward enough to create a crawl space. She almost had to shove her shivering companion through and then crawled through herself. As she did so she pressed against the other door and a large drift of snow was dislodged from the facing, nearly covering her in heavy wet snow. She had to use her hands to drag herself inside and slowly, vehemently cursed in Russian as she shook the snow from her nearly frozen legs.

Danuta was shivering uncontrollably and her lips were blue. Annika knew she had to do something quickly to warm her up. Above the ground floor of the barn was a hayloft. Annika stared at the ladder with some doubt. She knew they had to get out of sight, but she was not sure her companion could climb. Annika also felt that she was too weak to carry the girl, but she had no option now. She practically dragged Danuta to the ladder, the girl was not totally conscious and making her understand what Annika wanted proved difficult. She finally seemed to grasp what Annika was saying and woodenly began to climb. Annika shouldered all of the gear, including the Submachine gun and wearily started up after her.

The climb was sheer agony to her frozen limbs, but Annika somehow made it. Now that they had at least a measure of concealment she knew they had to get warm. Annika hastily stripped off her wet clothes tossing them into a corner. Danuta was past the point of understanding and Annika stopped with her own disrobing and started to open Danuta’s coat.

Annika was a practical girl and she knew how to survive in the cold. The trick was to become neither too cold nor too hot, but to stay near the same temperature. She quickly stripped off the coat and the tunics that Danuta was wearing. When she came to the shirt she realized what had happened. The girl had started to sweat and now it was a thin layer of ice on her skin. Annika tore into her pack and threw two of the blankets down. She laid the other two on top, covered them with the greatcoat and then pulled them back. She practically ripped the girl’s shirt off and started on the trousers. For some reason Danuta kept getting her hands in the way, almost like she was trying to stop her. Annika swatted the girl’s hands away and shucked both pairs of trousers and then pushed the shivering girl to her back. She ripped the boots off without even bothering to untie them and the tore the socks off. She then dropped her own trousers and tossed her shirt off. She sat and untied her boots noticing as she did so the strange look Danuta was giving her. Once free of the boots Annika peeled off the long underwear she wore and moved to Danuta, she caught the hem of the girl’s dirty chemise and whisked it over her head.

The girl’s eyes held a dreamy, far-away look as Annika picked her up and carried her to the blankets. She gently sat her down and then lay down next to her and pulled the blankets and coat over them. Annika pressed her body against Danuta’s and held her close. By now they were both shivering, but over several minutes their combined body heat began to warm the small space under the blankets. Annika stopped shivering first, but she held tightly to Danuta until the small woman stopped shivering as well.

“Are you all right?” she asked finally.

“Yes,” came the hushed reply. Annika started to release her hold and roll over but Danuta grabbed her hands.

“What?”

“Nothing…Please… Just hold me a while,” she said. Her voice was strange, small and scared. Annika was confused, but she discovered she didn’t really want to let go anyway.

“I will,”

The girl sighed and snuggled back against her. Annika lay there listening to the whisper of falling snow the girl’s soft breathing. The sounds were familiar and comfortable. The long walk in the snow with the tension and fear had given her an adrenalin rush. As that wore off she expected to be totally exhausted and fall asleep quickly, but she found that she was restless. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness and she became aware of the smells. Fresh hay was the strongest, but she could detect the smell of grains and of good black earth. It reminded her of home.

She began to become cognizant of the girl lying in her arms. Her skin was soft and warm, but exquisitely smooth to the touch. She could feel the soft globes of her rump pressed against her abdomen and the weight of Danuta’s breasts resting on her arm. Annika moved her head slightly and gently breathed in the scent of the girl’s hair. It was fresh and clean and the soft locks tickled her nose. Danuta sighed almost inaudibly and wiggled back against her. Annika felt an unfamiliar tightening in her stomach and it became harder to breath.

How long had it been? She wondered. When was the last time she shared simple human contact with someone? She had talked with other partisans in the early days, even stayed with a small group while recovering from a wound, but that had been before the NKVD took over. Now she had as much to fear from them as she did from the Germans. That last night at home, in the warm rope bed that she shared with both her brothers? Had that been the last time? Possibly. She found it vaguely unsettling to discover that she didn’t know.

The girl in her arms snuggled back even more tightly to her body. Annika felt her nipples begin to harden, like they often did in the cold, but she wasn’t cold now, if anything she was almost uncomfortably hot. Her breasts were pressed into the girl’s soft back and Annika realized Danuta would be able to feel her hardened nipples. Without warning the girl twisted in Annika’s arms, wrapped her arms around the startled sniper’s shoulders and firmly pressed her soft lips against the Annika’s. Annika was so stunned she made no attempt to stop the girl’s soft tongue when it slithered between her lips and into her mouth. It gently explored Annika’s mouth, but when the confused Russian didn’t respond the Polish girl pulled back.

“I’m sorry,” she said and rolled back over. It slowly dawned on Annika that this was what Danuta had meant by people like me. A woman sharing a bed in more than a plutonic way was nothing new to Annika. The war had left many villages without men and as was often the case the women took up all the responsibilities of their missing husbands, brothers and fathers. For some women filing in for the men seemed to bring out a more masculine side. Such relationships were not commonly mentioned, but were more often than not tolerated.

Annika had never considered such a relationship; in all honesty she had not considered any relationship. Her introduction to sex with men had been so traumatic that she doubted she would ever be able to submit to one’s touch no matter what the situation. That admission did not seem like anything important at the time, she had seriously doubted she would live to see the end of the war. Now that the German armies were in retreat she realized that she just might make it through alive.

And then what Annika Kubolinkov? she asked herself. What will you do when there is no one left to kill and the men expect you to return to your village and raise children to work the land? It was strange that she had never considered the question before and even stranger that a kiss from this slip of a girl had brought on the introspection she had avoided for the past months.

The girl was still in her arms, still warm, soft and exciting. What did two women do in bed in the absence of a man? Annika had known a pair of lovers who had shared the tent next to hers while she was convalescing. She remembered the whispered endearments, the grunts, sighs and moans on lonely nights when the rest of the camp was asleep. Never once had she wondered what exactly they were doing, but now she found herself consumed with curiosity.

“Why did you kiss me?” she asked in a voice that matched the falling snow for quiet. The girl rolled over and propped herself up on her elbow. She looked down on Annika with those impossibly large eyes and Annika found herself becoming lost in them.

“Why? I don’t know really. I felt certain I would die or worse with those Germans and then you appeared and rescued me. In all the years of this horrible war you are the first person to show me kindness. I have always been attracted to women and have never had any interest in men. You are beautiful and strong, but your touch is gentle and loving. It seems ages since anyone has made me feel safe and protected and… it just felt right. I am sorry for my forwardness. I owe you my life, several times over and did not wish to alienate you,”

“I’m not angry, have you slept with another woman before?” Annika asked. The girl smiled and gently shook her head.

“And here I was worrying about being too forward. The answer to your question is yes, I have had many lovers. In Berlin I spent many nights at a club that catered to women such as myself. I was young then and attractive so I did not lack for willing bedmates,”

“What did you do?” Annika asked. The girl looked deeply into Annika’s eyes and then lowered her lips to Annika’s. This time when the girl’s tongue invaded her mouth Annika kissed back. Their tongues twined and slipped against each other in a sensuous manner that soon had Annika breathing hard. Danuta broke the kiss and pulled her face back slightly.

“I can show you much easier than I could tell you,” she said in a husky voice.

Annika was slightly confused. The feelings inside were new and strange. She had kissed a few of the boys in her village, but nothing like the kiss she had just received. Her body was on fire and for the first time in a very long time she became aware of her pussy, of the delicious warmth that seemed to be spreading from it to the rest of her body.

The girl’s small hand gently cupped one of Annika’s generous breasts and squeezed. This simple action sent a shockwave of pleasure through her and she unconsciously arched her back.

“Would you like that?” Danuta asked in that husky, sexy, bedroom voice.

Annika did not trust her own voice and could only nod. The girl smiled and then lowered her lips to Annika’s again. This time there was no hesitation, their lips melded and their tongues twined in the dance that lovers had shared since time began. Danuta’s hand remained on Annika’s breast, gently kneading it and occasionally brushing the stiff nipple. It felt incredible and Annika moaned softly into the girl’s mouth. Danuta then moved her hand and seized Annika’s nipple between her fingers. She began to squeeze and roll the sensitive bud and her kiss became more demanding. Annika felt a tightness that seemed to be growing at the small of her back. Every caress of her suddenly aching nipple sent electric thrills of pleasure through her.

When Danuta broke the kiss Annika found herself panting, but before she could even begin to get some control back the young Pole started kissing up the line of Annika’s jaw. She moved slightly to free her other hand and Annika gasped when she felt her other nipple also captured between delicate fingertips. Danuta was indeed experienced, she applied just the right amount of pressure, never enough to cause pain, but a slowly increasing amount as Annika’s excitement continued to mount. Annika’s own hands were at her sides, each clenching tightly to blanket beneath them.

The girl’s lips moved from the point of her jaw to the bottom of her ear. Annika sucked her lower lip between her teeth and began to chew on it. She had never imagined her ears could be so sensitive, but the girl’s tongue when it traced along the lobe nearly drove her insane. A warm breath, gently exhaled into her ear drew a shudder from the Russian.

“Do you approve?” Danuta whispered into her ear.

Annika’s only response was a soft moan, the girl’s fingers still worried her nipples and she shivered in anticipation of that wonderful tongue on her ear again. The fingers slowed their squeezing until they just held her nipples prisoner and all Annika could feel was those soft warm breaths in her ear. Annika groaned in frustration.

“This is what we do,” the girl teased, “is your curiosity satisfied? Or should I continue with the…demonstration?”

“Oh god,” Annika ejaculated.

“Not good enough, Answer me!” the girl commanded. There was something new in her voice, something strong and vibrant. Running around in the cold with soldiers trying to kill them there was no question that Annika was in charge, but here, in this warm hayloft, without clothes the girl was asserting herself.

“Don’t stop,” Annika pleaded. Her mind was lost in the deluge of previously unknown sensations and her body seemed to know no shame. The girl rolled on top of Annika, using her leg to part the Russian girl’s thighs until she settled comfortably between them. Her mouth moved to Annika’s neck and began to lick and nuzzle while her dainty hands began to once again work their magic on the Russian girl’s swollen breasts. Annika became aware of a new sensation as well. Danuta’s bush was settled against her own and the girls weight rested on her pelvic bone. This had the effect of forcing her pubic mound against Annika’s and as she licked and nibbled at the Russians throat she gently began to rock her hips.

The new sensations were powerful, but for the moment Danuta kept the contact light and fleeting. Her mouth moved down the slope of Annika’s chest and into the luscious valley between her heaving breasts. She kissed her way up the dome of Annika’s left breast until the tip of her tongue touched the puckered aureole. Annika was chewing furiously on her lip, fighting back the moans of pleasure she knew were trying to escape.

Danuta’s hand slipped from her nipple and before Annika could comprehend what was happening she felt the girl’s warm lips cover her nipple. The sensation when she gently began to suck was beyond anything the poor Russian girl could have imagined. Warm, wet, soft, hard, the sensations flowed together, melding into a series of powerful shocks that defied her attempts to keep silent. When the girl’s tiny teeth took her stiff nipple between them and nipped Annika cried out.

Danuta released her nipple and moved her lips away from it. She gently blew on the exposed skin, now glistening with her saliva. Annika moaned almost inaudibly and Danuta smiled. Looking down on the Russian caused her breath to catch and the burning desire in her stomach to explode through her body, she could feel the blood pounding in her temples with each heartbeat.

Annika was quite simply the most lovely woman she had ever met. Her hair was long, dark and thick. The Russian’s face was delicately beautiful, which was something she had not expected. Most of the Russians she had met had stolid, blunt features, but Annika would have been considered a stunning beauty anywhere in Europe. She had high, fine cheekbones, sultry lips that begged to be kissed and a cute button nose. Her limbs were long and clean, well muscled, but not bulky. The girl’s hand slipped between their bodies and began to stroke the sniper’s thick luxurious pubic triangle.

As nice as that felt Danuta was enthralled with Annika’s breasts. Most of her previous lovers had been older women and while some had attained the size of Annika’s breasts none had been so wonderfully firm and resilient. Annika’s breasts stood out from her chest proudly and she had long, thick nipples that seemed to be made for Danuta’s mouth. At this moment she looked especially beautiful with her eyes tightly shut and her chest heaving. Danuta could see her small, even teeth gently chewing on her full bottom lip. She looked ready, aroused and at the same time vulnerable.

Danuta had dreamed of this moment for a very long time. In Berlin she had been young and eager, but totally inexperienced. This had forced her to take the submissive role and let her lovers teach her what it took to make them feel good. While she was comfortable in the submissive role she yearned to be the one in charge, the one who was experienced and controlled the pace of the action. She had been working on a young woman from an affluent Jewish family when the Kristallnacht forced her to return to Warsaw. The invasion and division of Poland by the Russians and Germans had dashed any hopes she had of living the life she wanted. Both regimes were oppressive and she had been subjected to a great deal of abuse at the hands of both invaders in their turn.

Now, spread out beneath her was perhaps the most enchanting woman she had ever seen. Annika was totally open, excited to the point where she was reacting without thinking and ready for whatever Danuta chose to give her. To a girl who was born to wealth and had seen the clubs in Berlin, the parlors in Paris, the glittering towers and domes of fabled Istanbul it seemed almost preposterous that she would be fulfilling her dream in a hayloft, on a farm in some unknown part of her native Poland with a Russian sniper who wouldn’t know a soup spoon from a salad fork. The irony combined with the overpowering relief from the fear she had felt earlier and the feeling of to form a heady mix, which in turn fueled her already enflamed lust.

Danuta realized she could be happy with this woman. She enjoyed the feeling of being safe and protected that she felt with Annika. The Russian was tough, capable, confident and obviously very strong; all of which appealed to the young woman. At the same time she was kind, gentle and somehow extremely vulnerable. Danuta had long realized her personality was dichotomous. Outside the bedroom she preferred to be the perfect young lady and wished for a partner who would handle the confrontations and bothers of life in the way a husband would. Once the bedroom door was shut, however she became a tiger, wanting to take the masculine role with her lover. She reveled in Annika’s soft body and trusting submissiveness.

While this could no doubt be the fulfillment of her sexual dreams, Danuta realized it could also be the first step in the fulfillment of her life’s dream. With a backdrop of global war and uncertainty she knew she could easily fall victim to the hopelessness of the situation. Danuta was made of sterner stuff and decided to shove all the uncertainties aside. The first step was the here and now and she was determined to make love to Annika in a way that would make all of her previous lovers seem forgettable.


Danuta returned to sucking and tonguing Annika’s stiff nipples. She alternated between them, her hand keeping which ever wasn’t in her mouth occupied. Her free hand trailed up and down the Russian’s body, delivering light feathery caresses to her hips, tummy and thighs. As Annika became ever more excited Danuta increased the stimulation, moving from gentle tonguing to sharp nips of the girl’s sensitive breasts. When Annika’s moans became an almost continuous stream Danuta glided down the girl’s body until she was resting between her splayed thighs.

Annika’s pussy was just divine. Where Danuta was used to the fleshy prominent mounds and thick lips of her more mature lovers, Annika’s was as delicate as a flower. Her body was firm and flat and her mound barely noticeable. Her outer lips were thinner than Danuta was used to. In Annika’s current state of arousal they gaped open to reveal the darker pink of her inner folds and Danuta was pleased to see that the girl’s clit had already made an appearance.

Danuta began by tracing Annika’s outer lips with the tip of her tongue. She moved slowly, avoiding any contact with the more sensitive spots for now. She was in no hurry and Annika’s soft moans were like music to her ears. When the Russian girl’s hips began to jog involuntarily and her hands twined into Danuta’s hair she knew her lover was beginning to reach the point of no return. Danuta eased back and started to kiss the girl’s inner thighs. She brought her stiffened finger to Annika’s entrance when the Russian had clamed herself. The sniper was extremely tight and even with her copious juices flowing it was difficult for Danuta to effect entry.

Once her finger was encased in that silken glove she felt her own pussy spasm. Annika was incredibly tight and her inner walls clamped down on Danuta’s finger in such a delightful manner. The Pole withdrew her finger until only the tip remained inside and then thrust it back in. A startled squeak was torn from Annika’s throat by the sudden intrusion. The polish girl withdrew slowly and plunged in again, twisting her finger as she did so for added effect. Annika only whimpered and ground her hips against Danuta’s hand. Once she had established a rhythm she liked the shorter girl dipped her tongue between Annika’s swollen lips and feasted on the honey she found there.

The Russian girl’s cream was very thick and slick and tasted like wild grapes, sweet but with a tartness that tingled on Danuta’s tongue. Annika was so hot now that a river of her nectar was escaping around the plunging finger. The Polish girl greedily lapped it up, making sure that her tongue, in it’s quest for this sweetness did not venture too close to the Russian’s straining clit. She wanted to prolong it for as long as she could, driving poor Annika to the edge of madness before she allowed her sweet release.

For several minutes the only sounds in the old barn were the liquid noises Danuta’s tongue and fingers were making and the increasingly strident moans and groans from Annika. Eventually she began to babble in Russian that was so broken Danuta couldn’t even make out the words. Her hands had lifted to her breasts and were roughly massaging them while her hips bucked and strained.

Sensing that Annika was reaching the end of her rope Danuta chose this moment to suck the girl’s clit into her mouth and lash it with her tongue. She felt the silken walls of Annika’s passage clamp down on her finger and there was a moment of absolute stillness in the Russian girl’s body. With a wailing cry that startled the small woman Annika came unglued. Her body pitched and bucked so violently it was all the Polish girl could do to keep her mouth on Annika’s clit. With as sudden violent surge the Russian girl’s body went limp. Danuta looked up to find that Annika was not moving.

Annika’s eyes fluttered open to find Danuta’s tear streaked face above her. The polish girl was shaking her violently and calling her name. Annika tried to say something but her tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of her mouth. She swallowed hard and tried again.

“What happened?” she managed.

“Thank god! I thought I had killed you!” Danuta said as relief flooded her features. Annika smiled and tried to hug her new lover, but her muscles were still quivering and she had no strength to pull the slight girl down to her breast.

“If that is the way I am allowed to leave this world then I will be lucky,” Annika managed. The girl curled up against her and they were both instantly asleep.

----

Annika came awake suddenly, from a deep sleep to totally alert. Her first impressions were of a relaxed contentment that urged her to close her eyes again, but something stopped her. What had awakened her? She lay very still, listening intently to the quiet of the snow falling. She was about to decide it had been nothing and curl up tighter against the warm, inviting softness of Danuta’s back when she heard the faint click of metal on metal.

Her hands slipped over to Danuta’s sleeping form and she clamped her palm over the girl’s mouth. Her eyes shot open and she started to struggle, but when she saw Annika holding her finger to her lips she became instantly still. Annika’s head moved quickly, adjusting to each sound, she tired to keep her face neutral, but she new they were in trouble. There were at least ten men out there in the snow. A voice began barking orders in German. Annika did not understand the language and could only try to get a rough grasp of what as happening.

“They are hunting for us,” Danuta whispered. Annika nodded and crawled carefully over to where the Schmeisser lay. Her rifle would be useless if they came into the barn. Actually, nothing would save them if she was forced to shoot, it was day now and there would be no escape into the darkness.

“He has ordered them to move out,” Danuta said, her voice so soft that Annika had to cock her head to catch the words.

The two soldiers who had been ordered to search the barn stopped outside the front door. From where she sat Annika could see them through the cracks in the boards. One lit a cigarette as the other poked at the four-foot deep mound of snow piled up before the door. Annika realized the great drift that had fallen on her the night before completely obscured the signs of their passing.

“There’s no one in there, look at the snow,” one of them said as he took a drag of his cigarette.

“You know that and I know it, but the captain will not be happy if we don’t look,”

“That Nazi bastard won’t be happy until we have all spilled our life’s blood in this god forsaken snow, for Fuehrer and fatherland,” the one with the cigarette spat.

“Be careful Hans, that’s defeatism and you know what the captain will do if he hears it,”

“Defeatism?” the other laughed, but there was no humor in his voice. Annika shifted slightly, but Danuta was straining to make out their words and ignored her.

“Take a look around you Eric, if the Russian’s don’t get you the Poles will, assuming you don’t freeze to death first. Where is Herr Goering’s vaunted Luftwaffe? Where are the wonder weapons that will stop this red tide? If it weren’t for fanatics like our leader we would have already run. I have a wife and two fine children in Heidelberg and I know you have a sweetheart, what good will we do them if we die here defending this miserable polish wasteland? None, I can tell you that for nothing. You have seen what these animals are capable of. How does the idea of a platoon of them taking turns with your woman make you feel?”

“Enough Hans, I know what you are thinking and how you feel. I too want to go home, we all do, but what good will it do us to try? The Obersturmfuehrer would have us shot if we tried. I fear his fanatical zeal more than I do Russian tanks, let us search this barn and catch up with the others, I do not like being separated from them, there is still some safety in numbers,”

“Search it yourself, I will not break my back for that Nazi swine. The Snow Witch will not be caught in a barn by such as us,”

“All right,” Eric conceded, “We will leave it alone, but for pity’s sake be silent,” Eric pleaded. The two moved off into the snow with Hans still grousing, but in a more subdued tone.

“What did they say?” Annika whispered.

“I am not sure my German is as good as it once was, but I think they said they search for a Witch,”

“I am the Snow Witch,” Annika said as she pulled on her trousers. Danuta sighed, she didn’t really want to leave the warm loft or see the Russian girl’s body covered, but she recognized the necessity and grimly pulled on the stinking clothes Annika had provided her with.

-----

Annika moved carefully to the edge of the wood and eyed the wide open field before them. Something about the open expanse caused her to balk. Danuta stumbled into her back and fell on her rump. Ten days marching had sapped the small woman’s strength. Annika looked back at her, but the harshness she had displayed earlier was replaced with deep concern. She had to find a place for them to rest, she could go on for days more, but her lover was quickly reaching the end of her rope.

Across the field were the ruins of a village. They might find shelter there, or a trap. Ordinarily Annika avoided buildings because they could easily become tombs, but Danuta needed shelter and the small girl’s comfort now took precedence over Annika’s native caution.

They were half way across the field when Annika heard the screaming whine that caused her blood to freeze. She threw herself to the ground as a huge explosion threw up dirt and snow. A second shell was already falling when Annika heard a shrill, keening note the likes of which she had never heard before. She looked up to see Danuta standing straight up with her hands over her ears screaming.

The Russian girl leapt to her feet and tackled the screaming girl, dragging her to the ground as another geyser of earth and snow rose with a titanic roar. Annika rolled on top of the frightened woman and tried to cover the soft body with her own. Annika had endured shellfire before, but she knew it was one of the worst horrors of the battlefield. The helpless feeling and ceaseless noise had driven more than one soldier to stand up and run, which was death.

Suddenly German panzers and infantry burst from the woods opposite them. At first Annika thought it was a trap, but the shells continued to fall and the Germans seemed to be charging for the opposite wood. Several men ran past them without even slowing. A tank exploded with a tearing and rending sound that was horrible to hear. Men fell, screamed and bled to death while their comrades ran blindly past them and still the shells fell. When it ceased the silence was eerie and seemed unnatural. Around them tanks burned and men groaned or pleaded for help.

Danuta was motionless beneath her and when Annika looked at her face the large eyes were blank. She had little time to worry about her because she knew they had to move now. She stood up and tossed the girl over her shoulder. She would have to try the town; there was no other option.

The little hamlet had once sported several homes. Most were in ruins now, the wood long burned and whatever furnishings had been inside them looted or destroyed. One small building still stood, but the roof sagged ominously. A thin tendril of smoke rose from the simple chimney. If it was peasants, Annika could probably barter with them for shelter for the evening, if it was the Germans… she would simply take it.

Annika came to the door of the building and kicked it open, pointing the Schmeisser before her. Inside three men sat with ancient rifles pointed at her. Danuta moaned softly on her shoulder, but Annika couldn’t afford to put her down. The man said something in polish, but the tall sniper didn’t understand.

The world was swimming and she was lost in a crashing void of sound and fury. Slowly Danuta realized the world looked askew because she was dangling from over the Russian girl’s shoulder. Her last memory had been of the crashing of guns.

“Who are you?” and unfriendly masculine voice asked in polish.

“Put me down Annika,” Danuta said in Russian. At the sound of the language the men all became visibly hostile. Annika carefully let the girl slide from her shoulder, but didn’t allow her to come between the Schmeisser and the men. They looked like good solid peasant stock and Danuta pulled off her slouch cap and raked her hair from her eyes.

“I might ask who you are,” she said in polish. The men looked suspicious, but seemed to relax a little. The older man, who seemed to be the leader laughed and the younger two smiled, but did not relax their grips on their weapons.

“What is a Polish girl doing with filth like that?” he said indicating Annika.

“She is my protector,” Danuta said easily.

“Oh ho, two girls in the snow? You must tell me this story!” the man said and stood. Annika’s Schmeisser immediately covered him, but Danuta quickly put her hand on the barrel and pushed it down. The movement had not gone unnoticed and all three men had their guns trained on Annika now

“Tell her to drop her weapon and we shall lower ours,” the man said.

“Drop your weapon,” Danuta translated.

“Never. I will die before I am left at the mercy of men again,” Annika spat.

“She will not,” the girl said helplessly.

“Well, we cannot sit here for the whole night like this,” the man said reasonably. He motioned to his companions and they lowered their weapons.

“At least have her point it somewhere else,” he said. Danuta translated and Annika hesitantly lowered the weapon, but she kept it at the ready. The older man pulled some meat off the peat fire and pushed a dish of it to the edge of the table.

“Eat, and tell me how two women come to my home,” he said.

Danuta ate heartily, but Annika simply stood against a wall and watched, she was obviously ill at ease. When she finished eating Danuta sat back and smiled at the old man.

“I am Danuta of Warsaw. My companion is Annika. I was held captive by the Germans and she rescued me. She has been guiding me ever since,” Danuta began. The three men exchanged glances at the mention of Annika’s name and Danuta hesitated before she went on. She told her whole story to the old man who seemed genuinely interested. When she finished he sat back and scratched his head.

“I am called Constantine. These are my sons Pietor and Revnick. You have nothing to fear from us child, we are part of the resistance or what’s left it.

“The resistance? Can you get us away from here?” Danuta asked excitedly.

“You perhaps, but I can do nothing for your friend. The Russians have been no friend to Poland,” he said bitterly. “You may sleep here tonight if you wish and we can try to get you to the western allies tomorrow, but now we must hunt,” he said as he rose. The three of them left the small home and disappeared into the growing darkness.

“The resistance!” Danuta said excitedly, “They said they can get me to the Americans, but they cannot help you,”

“I do not trust them,” Annika said simply. Her eyes were restless and continued to dart around the room, never stopping anywhere for long.

“Why are you being so stubborn? Did they not feed us and give us use of their home?” Danuta said angrily.

“I can get you to safety. Let us leave this place, now,” Annika said urgently. She still held her weapon and the news that the men were part of the polish resistance did not seem to set her at ease. Danuta felt she was being stubborn. Constantine had fed them and was sheltering them after all. She wanted a protector, but this petty jealousy was infuriating.

“I will not leave!” the polish girl declared.

Danuta was surprised when Annika nodded and said no more. She curled up in the Russian’s arms and fell asleep. She awoke alone and shivering. Constantine was sitting at the table with a relaxed look on his face and a bottle of some strong drink.

“Where is Annika?” she demanded.

“She left during the night,” he said quietly.

“But why?” Danuta asked. She felt crushed and was suddenly very lonely. She knew Annika had been uncomfortable; several times she had risen during the night and floated like a ghost through the rooms of the old building. She did not appreciate the depth of Annika’s nervousness and cursed herself for being so stubborn.

“She said she had no use for you and that we could take better care of you than she could,” he said. The words hurt, but something was wrong and Danuta suddenly realized what it was.

“She spoke no polish!” Danuta said glaring at him suspiciously.

“And who said I speak no Russian?” he said in flawless Russian. Danuta started to rise, but both of the old man’s “sons” rushed in and easily overpowered her.

“Do not worry about your lover, I am sure we can make you forget her,” the old man laughed while wiping off the heavy makeup he wore.

“Pigs,” Danuta spat

“Hardly pigs my little polish whore. I am captain Yuri Bradonivich, NKVD and these fine specimens of manhood are Dimitri Colosnivik and Pietor Tirmiski. Both of them are taken with your charms, but we were unable to do anything about it last night. It seems the Snow Witch doesn’t sleep and never takes her hands off her weapons,”

“What are you going to do to me?” Danuta asked apprehensively.

“Were it not for that delicious receptacle between your legs they would have no interest in you at all. I however, have been sent to bring the Snow Witch’s career to an end,”

“But she’s one of you!” Danuta said in confusion. Pietor was busy tugging her tunic out of her trousers while Dimitri held her arms fast behind her. Despite her revulsion she was more worried about Annika than herself, rape was nothing new to the dark haired girl.

“She is a danger and a counter revolutionary, her exploits encourage others to act without orders!” he snarled as he came to his feet. The man seemed to master himself with an effort.

“No one has ever been able to get close to her, but now I have what I need to put an end to her misguided career,”

“What?” Danuta breathed, fearing she already knew the answer.

“You of course my little slut. Do you really think she has left you? One really must wonder what talents you possess to have captured the heart of such a woman. She’s out there, somewhere in the snow and watching us,” he said switching to polish.

“You will never catch her,” Danuta said with conviction.

“Really? I wonder what she will do when she has the choice of turning herself in or watching an entire regiment of Cossacks have their way with you?”

Danuta groaned as the tunic was torn open and Pietor roughly grabbed her breasts. She felt so helpless and violated, but more than that she feared for Annika. She looked around the room desperately. The submachine gun that Annika had made her carry still lay on the floor. If she could only reach it she could kill herself. It did not shock her that she was willing to give up her own life to save Annika.

“Enough, drag the slut out front and strip her. You may have your way with her, but do not kill her,” he said in Russian. Danuta wondered about him changing from language to language. Was it possible the other two spoke no polish?

The two rapists gleefully dragged her outside, but the small girl saw the Captain pull a sleek rifle from a case. She saw it then, what the rapists did not realize was that Yuri was using them both as bait. She had trouble believing anyone could be so cold blooded as to sacrifice his own men. Once out front the two Russians viciously ripped her clothing from her body. She tried to fight but Pietor grabbed her by her breasts and slung her brutally against the side of the building, knocking the wind from her. Danuta had never felt such pain.

The dark haired sadist dragged her to her feet by her hair and rammed his knee into her crotch, sending searing pain into her privates. Danuta screamed in pain and tried to protect herself. Pietor laughed, roughly seizing a handful of her pubic hair and viciously ripping it out. The polish girl almost fainted from the shock.

Danuta lay on the ground shivering and wracked with sobs, unable to even move. She rolled over and looked up in time to see both men dropping their trousers. She heard a sharp popping sound and then a strange thing happened. Pietor grabbed his crotch and doubled over in pain. Dimitri looked around and then his body was catapulted backwards and a second popping sound was heard. Danuta started to move, but a gun exploded nearby and kicked up dirt near her head.

“Move an inch my pretty little slut and I will kill you,” Bradonivich hissed.

“Annika Kubolinkov, can you hear me?” the NKVD captain roared.

“I hear you,” a disembodied voice replied after a long silence.

“As you can see, your little slut is naked and it’s getting cold. If she tries to move I will kill her,”

“Should any harm come to her I will kill you,” Annika called back.

“Perhaps, but that won’t bring your little whore back now will it?” he retorted.

Danuta closed her eyes and shivered. Her body hurt from the abuse, but the cold was far more painful. It seamed to sear her skin and stick to her, invading her very being with its icy grip.

------

“What do you want?” Annika called as she shifted in the snow, moving always to her left, looking for an angle that would allow her to shoot into the door.

“I want you, not this piece of filth. Come down and surrender and the girl will go free,” the voice called.

Annika knew that the moment she showed herself she would be shot. She was deathly afraid that Danuta was freezing to death, but getting herself killed wouldn’t help the girl. Annika had no illusions about Danuta’s fate if she were killed. She had to save the girl, but how?

The man obviously could see Danuta clearly and at that range he could hardly miss. Annika scanned the front of the building through her scope, but he was good. She surmised he was far back in the room and that gave her the glimmer of an idea. From where she guessed he was hiding she chose a place that he could not fail to see and sat in the snow.

“How do I know you will not hurt the girl?” Annika called as she stripped off her parka.

“You do not, but if you don’t come in soon she will freeze to death,” the voice called. Annika was unlacing her boots as quickly as she could.

“Keep him talking,” she grunted to herself in Russian.

“Let her go, and I shall come down,” Annika called.

“You are in no position to bargain. But take your time, it’s nice and warm in here,”

Annika worked feverishly, but she wondered if she could beat the clock this time.

----

Time seemed to have stopped. How long had she been lying there, she wondered. She had been a fool and she cursed herself for it. Annika had known there was something wrong. Why, oh why had she not listened? Danuta was scanning the woods when she saw a movement. She tried to scream when she recognized Annika’s parka but her warning was eclipsed by the bark of a rifle. The figure went down instantly.

“No!’ She cried and struggled to her feet. Before she could move far the Captain stepped out of the cabin and grabbed a handful of her hair. He still held the long black rifle in his hand and there was a terrible look of triumph on his face.

“Oh no my little slut, now that the Snow Witch is gone, you and I will celebrate with a night of hard fucking. I know you Polish whores just love a good stiff cock between your legs,” he said with a laugh.

“Why?” Danuta sobbed.

“She was a threat and now I have neutralized her, like hundreds of others. She acts without guidance and once the war is won who is to say where her loyalties lie? My superiors will be pleased with me, this is a moment of great triumph, but that means little to you. Come now, I have a hard cock that needs your attention and like I said, I’ve earned it,”

There was a crunch of a boot in the snow behind them and the captain whirled, holding Danuta before him. Annika stood there without her parka. A pistol was held in her hand and her eyes were as cold as death.

“Like you said, you’ve earned it,” the tall girl said in Russian as the pistol barked. Danuta felt the bullet pass by her side and the captain crashed to the ground. He was still holding her hair, but Danuta twisted out of his grip. Suddenly Annika was there, her arm protectively around the Pole’s trim waist and the gun pointed at the bleeding NKVD man.

“Bitch,” he spat. There was a dark spot of blood on his hip that seemed to be growing before Danuta’s eyes.

“For what you have done I would kill you a thousand times if I could,” Annika said dispassionately and shot him again. Danuta turned her head and vomited when she saw the man’s brains splattered all over the pristine white snow.

Annika hustled the shivering girl into the small building and stoked the fire. She looked out the door once and then turned back to Danuta.

“Dress quickly, we must leave this place at once,”

“I thought he shot you?” Danuta said. Her teeth were chattering and she couldn’t stop shivering. Her hands fumbled with her clothes and Annika eventually had to help her dress.

Once she was warm Annika led her to the place where Danuta had seen her go down. A simple cross of branches, tied together with a shoelace and covered with Annika’s parka lay there in the snow. A second shoelace ran over a low branch and Danuta realized that Annika has squatted near the tree and raised the parka by pulling the string. It was a clever trick, one that had saved her life. Annika retrieved her parka and they moved out.

------

They marched all through that awful, moonless night. Danuta felt she would die of fatigue, but refused to endanger Annika again and so she marched. By the time dawn tinged the morning sky, she felt feverish and at some point early in the day delirium set in. The rest of that long month was a blur in her memory. She had caught pneumonia or something and stayed delirious for much of it. Annika had gently cared for her and guided her to Sevastopol where she had somehow managed to get Danuta on a ship filled with Hungarian Jews, bound for Palestine.

She vaguely remembered the long trip in the hold of that ship. The seasickness had often left her wishing she were dead. The tramp steamer had worked its way torturously down through the Dardanelles and had eventually made a landing on the coast. Danuta had traveled overland by camel to Egypt and had reached London by way of Cairo some two months after the invasion of Normandy. She had waited for several months with friends of her father in the British capital until she could catch a ship over to Calais. Danuta had reached Paris three days before Berlin fell to the Red Army.


----

Springtime in Paris. It was a lovely evening filled with promise. Danuta sat on the balcony to her apartment, watching the couples as they strolled along the Rue de Ville. She wore a long burgundy gown that fell to her ankles and button up boots. Her dark hair was piled high on her head and her pearl necklace looked stunning on her long, slim neck. It was still late afternoon and the club she planned to attend in the underground would not open for several hours yet. As she watched the soft rays of a setting sun illuminate the city she sipped tea from a delicate china cup.

It was 1946 and the horrors of war were behind her, but still not so far removed that she didn’t occasionally wake screaming. The allies and the Soviet Union had already begun the cooling of relations that would lead to the cold war, but Danuta knew little of such things and cared even less. Her life revolved around sleeping late, eating well, the Paris nightlife and women. Now that things were returning to a semblance of normality she found herself lonely and perusing that perfect girl again.

Thinking of that perfect girl reminded her of the only one she had ever found and that dark evening on a crowded dock where they had parted. She had been very lucky to have her, even for that fleetingly short time she mused. The Russian’s final words had been a promise to meet her in Paris, but she had long since given up hope that it would come to pass. The Snow Witch had faded back into the white of winter and would never be heard from again.

I’ve been very lucky all around, she thought. Her parents had survived the years at Mauthausen and lived just up the road. Her father’s Swiss accounts had remained intact throughout the war and they had encountered none of the problems getting to them that many were experiencing. Her parents had found obtaining French citizenship easy with their reputations among the remains of the intelligentsia and once they had become citizens it had been easy for Danuta to obtain hers as well.

A gentle breeze fluttered the gauzy drapes of the open doors behind her and Danuta rose and moved inside. It was warm, but the breeze carried on it an unseasonable chill and the expatriate Pole had developed an intense dislike of the cold.

The interior of her home was tastefully decorated with antiques and expensive furnishings. She had all the money she would ever need and despite her expensive tastes she actually lived rather frugally. Glancing in the full-length mirror she had to smile. She was still young, still beautiful, but her eyes were far older than her body. The look in them was common in those who had survived the horrors of war; she saw that same quality in the eyes of many of the people she passed on the streets.

In some ways that look even helped. She was still young, but more and more often she was able to bring home the soft and pliant kind of bedmate she wanted. Of course the trade off was that they expected her to be older and wiser out of bed as well. Her youth and beauty still attracted those women who made her feel safe and secure out of bed, but inevitably they also wished her to play the innocent in bed. Her life was full, but not complete. She could have all she wanted, but the trade off was having to have multiple partners and she knew she longed for just one. One woman whom she could call her own. A girl who would be her husband out of bed and her wife once the lights were dimmed.

She moved gracefully to the sideboard and poured herself a tumbler of brandy. The air had not been that cold, but she felt a chill that she could not seem to shake. There was a discreet knock at the door to her apartment and Danuta went to open the heavy door, wondering as she did who it might be.

“Yes Pierre?” she said when she opened the door and recognized the old doorman.

“I am sorry to disturb you Mademoiselle, but there is someone at the door who wishes to see you,”

“Who is it?” Danuta asked curiously. She had not invited anyone over and Pierre knew her parents and small circle of friends well enough to admit them without calling on her if she were in.

“I do not know, she refused to give her name. She looks like a vagabond and spoke with such a barbarous accent that I could barely make out her words, should I send her away?”

Danuta paused to consider that. You met all kinds in the underground and occasionally one of the seedier types would try to attach themselves to a person of obvious means. She had been careful to be discreet and had only brought home women of obvious refinement; her first inclination was to have the aged doorman send this stranger packing.

On the other hand there were many people moving about now, detainees released from camps, displaced citizens returning home or looking for lost family. With her family’s connections and reputation it was not infrequent that an exile Pole came hoping for assistance. Danuta still carried her mother’s name and not infrequently some poor soul would find her, thinking she was her mother. Danuta was invariably kind to such people and sent them to her parent’s house, where they would receive a warm welcome and help if it was within her father’s means.

“No, Pierre, please send her up,” Danuta said graciously. The old man smiled and nodded.

“You are such a gracious young lady, and your father’s help to his countrymen is well known. France gained so much when you came to us to escape the Russians, but be wary mademoiselle, this woman I think is sick,” he said then departed.

A few minutes passed and she wondered if perhaps the woman had decided her mission, had been a failure and departed while she spoke to Pierre. There came a knock at the door then, so gentle and hesitant she would have missed it had she not been expecting it. Danuta put on her best smile and opened the door, the least she could do would be to try and put this person at ease.

The woman at the door was tall, but bent and obviously ill. She wore ill-fitting boots and a man’s trousers with a tattered gray coat that was obviously military surplus. A ragged cough that seemed to coming from lungs filled with water burst from her lips and Danuta involuntarily stepped back, her smile frozen on her face. The woman looked up then and tired to stand erect. She wore a scarf over her face that left only her eyes and part of her nose visible. Her hair was greasy, unkept and hung like rope from her scalp. The eyes were bloodshot and fevered, but somehow familiar.

“I promised I would meet you in Paris,” she said haltingly in Russian.

“Annika?” Danuta mouthed. No words would come, but the eyes were unmistakable.

“I came, even if…it is only to say goodbye,” she wheezed. With that she fell to the floor in a heap.

“Pierre!” Danuta screamed as she rushed to the fallen woman’s side. He came pounding up the steps with two of the other bellmen. The three of them stopped and stared.

“Get her to my room, and fetch Doctor Roquefort,” she snapped. While Pierre hurried off to get the Doctor the two others lifted Annika’s body and deposited her on Danuta’s bed. They both looked uncomfortable and she excused them both while she removed the scarf.

The Russian girl’s brow was burning hot to the touch and her skin was flushed. Danuta unbuttoned the worn coat with shaking hands and stared in horror. Annika wore only a thin cotton shirt underneath the coat. Danuta could see every rib, her pelvic bones stood out and her shrunken stomach seemed almost to be collapsed. She pulled the dirty ragged shift off and tossed it to he floor. A jagged tear in the girl’s side oozed yellow-green puss and the stench was so horrible Danuta fainted dead away.

-----

She paced nervously back and forth in front of the bedroom door and chain-smoked the expensive Turkish cigarettes that she usually only smoked when she was drinking at the clubs. She started at every sound from behind the closed door and it was all she could do not to disturb the doctor. Eventually the trim, bespectacled, white haired old man came out and poured himself a drink.

“Well?” Danuta burst out.

“I have lived though two world wars, but I have never seen anything like this. How the poor creature managed to get this far I will never know,” he said slowly and took another slug of the cognac.

“What is it?” Danuta said after she allowed him to collect his thoughts.

“She is on the very edge of starvation, has pneumonia and the laceration in her side has become gangrenous,”

“Oh my God,” Danuta said in a strangled voice and clutching at her throat.

“There, there child,” the old man said, recovering some of his bedside manner.

“Will she live?” Danuta asked in a much firmer voice.

“Only God may answer that question, I have done all that man can do. I have cut away the diseased tissue and sutured the wound, if she survives there will be some scaring, but I fancy not as much as one would expect from such a wound. I can leave medicine for the infection if she means anything to you, if not I will have the city hospital send orderlies around to fetch her,” the old doctor said uncertainly.

“She means a great deal to me, I will tend to her myself,” Danuta said.

“Very well, I will have medicine brought around. If she wakes she will be very thirsty, make sure you do not let her have more than a glass of water. She will want food, but she must be given only a small amount. Under no circumstances should she be allowed to eat more than a cup of rice,”

“Thank you doctor,”

“Her chances are very slim Mademoiselle, do not get your hopes up,” he said as he left the apartment.

----

Men shouting, women screaming, fire, bullets, gnawing hunger, unendurable pain! Annika sat bolt upright. The images from her dream slowly faded and she collapsed back onto the soft bed. Bed? Where am I? Her eyes restlessly scanned her surroundings. Even in the semi darkness she could tell she was in a woman’s bedroom. The appointments were rich beyond her wildest dreams and unmistakably feminine.

“You’re awake at last,” a softly accented voice said. Annika located the speaker in a wingback chair in the corner, but could make out no features in the darkness.

“Where am I?” she asked. Her voice sounded weak and tremulous.

“Paris,” the voice said.

“How did I get here?”

“I thought to ask you the very same question,” the voice replied with gentle amusement.

Annika thought a long time before replying. Her words were hesitant and she was unsure of herself.

“My last clear memory is of escaping from a prisoner of war camp in Rumania. I was shot, or at least I think I was,”

“You were,” the voice said.

“It’s all cloudy after that. I ran…from who I’m not sure. I hid wherever I could and stole food when I was able. I…I had to get to Paris..I had to find someone,” she said haltingly.

“You have found her,” Danuta said moving into the weak light. She was beautiful beyond belief, but seemed terribly tired. She gave Annika a glass of water and the Russina found she suddenly had a burning thirst. Danuta started to speak, but Annika only closed her eyes. She had made it. She was there. Knowing that she surrendered to her body’s demand for rest and slept.

-----

Summertime in Paris. The night was sultry and it’s velvety darkness seemed filled with potential. Danuta sipped chilled wine from a crystal goblet and cast glances at her companion on the balcony. Annika sat across the table from her, drinking schnapps from a tumbler. It had been three months since the day she shown up half dead at Danuta’s door. The doctors were amazed at her recovery, but Danuta wasn’t. She knew enough about Annika to know she was like iron, or more correctly, like tempered steel. She had come though fire and ice and her strength gave Danuta comfort.

Her recovery had been swift and like the Doctor predicted, there was only a small scar on her side. Three months of good food, bed rest and tender care had done wonders. Her lithe body had filled out again and was, if anything, more succulent than Danuta remembered. She had fought the impulse to make love to Annika for over a week now, but she knew tonight she would fight it no longer.

They had spent many hours talking, just getting to know one another again, but of the time after they parted on the dock Annika would not speak. Danuta had not pressed it, there were memories that she refused to dwell on too. Mostly she had talked of herself while her lover just listened. They seemed made for each other, not opposites, but complimentary parts. Danuta loved to talk and Annika loved to listen.

The Russian was raw, coarse around the edges and she had much to learn about society, but she was undeniably a presence that people respected. In time she would become as masterful in dealing with Paris society as she had been in the woods with a rifle, of this Danuta had no doubts. Already she had caused a stir, wearing a man’s trousers and coat rather than a gown. Annika was so strong and confident that people accepted this peculiarity with only a second glance and perhaps a shrug. Her society friends and parents were easily convinced it was a Russian tradition and her reputation for killing Germans had earned her the respect of many of the citizens in Paris.

Danuta had tactfully let it be known that Annika was the famed Snow Witch, never being loud or obvious in her desire to have the word spread. A visit from members of the Allied Control Council and some carefully greased palms in the press had turned Annika into a minor celebrity. Danuta had engineered this quietly, working to assure Annika of a place in Paris from which she could be herself without facing any of the conventions that bound most women to a subservient role in society.

Danuta had carefully crafted this position for Annika. A position that allowed her to be exactly what they both wanted. Annika would be her husband, her protector and shield from life’s unpleasantries. It was a role that suited her well and one that the Russian woman was proud to take. Tonight Danuta planned to begin molding Annika into what she wanted behind closed doors. The dark-eyed young Pole relished the thought.

“Let’s go inside,” she said with a coy smile. Annika smiled and drained her tumbler of Schnapps before rising and following Danuta into the apartment. Danuta had intentionally slept in the guest bedroom once Annika was past the danger point and on her way to recovery. She made every effort to titillate her lover, but had thus far not allowed it to get physical. When she turned and saw the hunger in Annika’s eyes she felt a shiver of excitement pass through her small body.

Annika was precious, obviously in heat, but still to shy to do anything other than stand there, looking delicious. Danuta stepped forward boldly and dragged her lover’s face down to her own. The smaller woman thrust her tongue against Annika’s soft, yielding lips and felt a thrill when they parted. She tangled her hand in the Russian girl’s hair and began to explore her mouth. She felt the girl’s soft lips against her own and tasted the warmth of her mouth. Annika tasted of schnapps and Danuta thrilled at the softness of her tongue when it hesitantly caressed her own. She felt the girl’s small even teeth, the roughness of the roof of her mouth and the silky softness of her inner cheeks. Annika’s tongue stroked her tongue, slithering over it and under it, but never once did the Russian attempt to enter Danuta’s mouth with it.

She was such a prefect woman, Danuta thought as her hands quickly slipped from Annika’s head to her trousers. Annika’s clothes thrilled her when they were out, but Danuta would have preferred her in girdle, bra and nylons now or even in a sexy corset. Perhaps she would try to convince Annika to wear such things under her suits, perhaps not. For now she wanted Annika naked and vulnerable.

Danuta’s experienced hands quickly stripped Annika while never breaking the searing kiss. She reveled in the feeling of Annika’s satin skin beneath her hands as they glided up and down the quivering Russian’s flanks and hips. Her hands slipped around and gently cupped Annika’s ass. The skin was warm and the cheeks felt so soft and heavy in her hands. A soft moan escaped the Russian’s mouth as she threw her head back.

Danuta moved quickly to bring her lips to the Russian’s exposed neck, while firmly clamping down on her ass. She licked and nuzzled, moving slowly from the nape of Annika’s neck to the bottom of her chin. Her hands kneaded Annika’s cheeks and when her finger dipped between them to her delight she found Annika’s nether lips were already slick with her juices. Danuta managed to work her finger between those lips and into Annika’s tight passage, causing the Russian to moan again.

Annika’s silken interior walls gently clenched and relaxed on the polish girl’s still finger. The exquisite sensation caused a spasm of pleasure to shoot through the little Pole and she licked down Annika’s chest, into the valley between her breasts. Danuta licked wildly, coating the insides of those wonderful globes with saliva before she finally took a straining nipple in her mouth. Annika’s hips were jogging now, unconsciously fucking herself on Danuta’s finger. The polish girl closed her lips tightly, a little behind the puckered aureole and sucked hard, causing Annika to whimper.

“You like that don’t you my love?” Danuta whispered after she released Annika’s breast.

“Yes,” Annika replied.

“Help me out of my gown,” she said as she turned and presented her back to the taller woman. Annika quickly moved to help her disrobe. Beneath her gown Danuta wore only white knee stockings and her boots. Annika’s eyes seemed move from her breasts to her pussy and back. Danuta took her hand and led the hesitant woman to her bedroom. Once there she gently pushed Annika back onto the bed

“Do you remember our first night? In the barn?” she asked as she climbed onto the bed and situated herself between Annika’s legs.

“Yes,”

“Tell me what you remember,” she said as she began to nuzzle the Russian girl’s neck.

“It was dark and quiet. I remember the smell of hay, the gentle falling of the snow and the softness of your skin,” Annika said before letting out a low moan as Danuta’s tongue crossed over her collar bone.

“What else?’ the polish girl inquired as her tongue slid gently down the slope of Annika’s breasts.

“I remember your kiss, the sweetness of your lips, the smell of your hair. The way your eyes looked and the gentleness of your hands on my body,”

“Go on,” she said before her mouth enveloped one of Annika’s stiff nipples.

“I..Ohhh..I remember how good your mouth felt on me and the intensity of it all…why do you ask?”

“I just wondered,” Danuta said as she playfully flicked her tongue over Annika’s stiff nipple. The Russian girl tangled her hands in Danuta’s hair and tried to pull her head down, but the pole refused to be guided.

“I remember how much I wanted you. How I wanted to fuck you,” the Pole said quietly. Annika looked at her quizzically and cocked her head to one side, causing the smaller girl to chuckle.

“You did not know this could be done?”

“I did not think… I mean… can it?”

“Yes luv, it can. But we shall save that for another evening. Tonight I wish only to feel your skin on mine and to make you feel good. Would you like that?”

“I have dreamed of nothing else since the day we parted,” Annika said.

Danuta smiled and began to kiss and lick her way down Annika’s flat tummy towards her thick pubic triangle. She ran her tongue briefly through the delicate forest of curls before finding the Russian girl’s slick lips. She could tell by the aroma that Annika was already ready. If she needed any other proof the bounty she found between Annika’s silky lips was more than enough. The flavor was different than she remembered, less sweet and more musk, but it was still heavenly. Danuta curled her tongue between Annika’s lips and scooped up as much as she could. Annika moaned and her hands went to Danuta’s head as her back arched.

Annika was trying to guide her tongue to her clit, but Danuta would not be rushed. She had been anticipating this reunion for three months and it would go at her pace. She had no intention of allowing her lover to seize the initiative, Annika could be the perfect woman, but she would have to learn to be a woman in their bed. Ignoring the gentle pressure on her head Danuta concentrated her efforts on the entrance to Annika’s passage. It was here that her nectar was thickest and most abundant. The polish girl only occasionally allowed her tongue to stray upwards and caress her partner’s clit. Even on those occasions the caress was only a feathery flick of her tongue, enough to keep Annika moaning, but not enough to distract her more than momentarily.

Danuta crossed her fingers and pressed them to the Russian’s slick entrance. Her saliva and Annika’s own juices made the entry almost effortless. She was as tight as Danuta remembered and her insides felt just as delightful. Her fingers glided in an out almost without friction. The liquid sounds that filled the room were accompanied by increasingly strident moans from her lover. Danuta let her mouth stray upwards, until she felt the Russian’s stiff clit against her soft lips. She sucked the nubbin of flesh into her mouth and lashed it with her tongue, keeping time with her sawing fingers. Annika groaned loudly and began to toss her head from side to side. Danuta brought her to the edge, but then moved upwards again, running her tongue through the girl’s damp curls. Ever upward her mouth moved, past the scar on Annika’s side, between her heaving breasts and finally to her lips.

Danuta kissed her hard, driving her tongue past the soft lips and ravished her mouth, even as her fingers increased their tempo. Annika sucked greedily on her tongue and she felt the Russian girl’s fingernails as they raked her back. Breaking the kiss she stared intently into Annika’s eyes as she drove her stiffened fingers into the girl. Danuta brought her thumb to Annika’s clit and ground against the sensitive nub. Annika’s back arched and she gasped. Her eyes flew wide and her mouth formed an enticing “O” as she moaned. This was what she loved most about sex, the power to bring her partner bliss. Danuta lowered her head and bit down on Annika’s shoulder.

She felt Annika’s inner muscles contract on her fingers even as a wild screech erupted from her pretty lips. When the Russian girl had quieted and her body stilled Danuta slithered up her body until her legs straddled the girl’s face.

Annika was still bathed in the afterglow and Danuta felt like she was about to die. She had waited so long for this moment and she hoped it would be all that her dreams had built it up to be. Saying a silent prayer she eased forward until she felt her pussy settle onto the Russian girl’s lips. Danuta looked down her body and held her breath. Annika’s eyes opened in surprise, but then closed again and the polish girl almost wept with joy when she felt Annika’s soft tongue push between her lips.

For a timeless period she merely held herself their, enjoying Annika’s caress. Her new lover lacked technique and was still very tentative, but as time passed her attentions became bolder and more exciting. Danuta rose up and reversed herself, allowing her head to fall between Annika’s thighs. She waited for a moment before Annika returned to tonguing her and dove between the girl’s slick lips. Annika’s tongue now laved her aching pussy, brushing against her clit again and again. She concentrated her own efforts on Annika’s erect clit and the surrounding area, knowing that the Russian girl would still be very sensitive.

Danuta felt her own hips rocking and she was fighting back her climax when she felt Annika go stiff beneath her and then begin to buck wildly. Thick and heady waves of pleasure washed over her then and her cries mingled with those of her lover.

-----

Danuta moved gracefully among the crowd of dancers. Her partner was a dashing ex-army captain named François. He was a friend of the family and had been dropping not so subtle hints all evening that he would like to get to know her better. When the dance ended and he tried to maneuver her out onto one of the balconies Danuta was polite but firm in her rebuff. Like most Frenchmen he would not take no for an answer and slipped his arm around her tiny waist. He was trying to guide her towards the French doors when he was brought up short by a hand on his shoulder.

Annika looked delicious in her black brocade suit and Danuta had to smile. The Russian girl’s face was set in a scowl. François was a bit taken aback and Annika gave him no time to recover.

“Come, it is time to go home,” she said to Danuta.

“Good evening François, thank you for the dance,” Danuta said over her shoulder as Annika led her from the room. The stunned look on his face was priceless. Once in the car and on their way home she hugged Annika.

“Thank you my darling,”

“I am tired of these Frenchmen trying to take liberties with you,” she said sulking. Danuta smiled.

“Forget them, you know I only attend these parties for my father’s sake. He is trying with all his might to get the allies not to abandon Poland to the Russians. Besides, what could a man possibly have to offer me? I have all I want already,” she said as she playfully kissed Annika’s nose.

“I still do not like their hands on you,” Annika said.

“Oh, hush. When we get home I will make sure you know I am only interested in one person’s hands on me,” she growled. Annika smiled then and they kissed.

Later that evening as she relaxed and lay curled up in Annika’s arms, Danuta thought about her life. The horror of the war years would never completely fade she decided. Those years of privation, fear and killing would never be completely forgotten, but she felt that they would one day become a part of her happiness. Not that they would ever be happy memories, but they would provide the measuring stick against which she could compare what she had now. No one had been untouched by the war; everyone had lost something in that great conflagration. Some had lost all they had and more than she could imagine had lost their very lives. Amidst that chaos and loss she had found something more precious than even life, she had found wisdom and someone to love. Her life was, she decided, a testament to the human spirit and proof that love can conqueror all, even the greatest war mankind had ever thrust upon itself.


Finis