Jarek was relieved to hear the order to leave and he subconsciously urged Nikolaj to walk faster. The sooner and further away they got from the enormous heap of explosives, stored in even worse fashion than his textbooks in high school, as difficult as that was to achieve, the better.

Walking out, it felt like a different city. The sun was a bit higher, of course, but the strangest thing was the sudden silence. They rushed in with bullets bouncing off the transport and the .50 barking back at the numerous skinnies, but now they could almost march down the street, undisturbed. Nikolaj found some ruins down the street and decided to confiscate them. Four walls and a flat roof made of questionable materials. The Dutch had the same idea and Jarek hurried to find solid cover before everything was taken. Now that the action has subsided and his brain slowed down, the adrenaline started to wear off and fatigue and hunger started to set in. Covering his face with his shemagh and adjusting his goggles, he crouched behind one of the walls and observed the commotion in the building, waiting for the grand finale. He couldn’t help it, but he hoped a few skinnies would get into that building right before the detonation.