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[center][color=black]"Splintered" | Issue #1 | Prague[/color][/center]
It was always cold. Russia was cold. Prague was cold. He was cold. Always. The Winter Soldier adjusted the scarf around his neck to cut off the breeze threatening to go down his jacket. According to the news it had gotten down to 3 degrees last night. The day had yet to warm up at all. The sun was barely above the horizon and making no headway through the clouds.

The soldier tromped his way down the cobblestone road. The brick houses were looking run down, but well loved. The yards were clean, plants trimmed, and some even had fresh coats of paint. Someone who wasn't familiar with Czechoslovakia might even believe the country had been hard hit from the war and was now recovering. It was a solid theory. The country had been invaded in the second world war. Liberated by Russia. Restructured to the Soviet ideal. It had works in many different countries across the Soviet Block. But the Soldier knew that wasn't the case here. Czechoslovakia had been spared the worst of the war. And now that the soviets had control, things were worse. The economy was shrinking. Police and others abused their powers. People barely had enough to survive. 

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The soldier paused in front of a warn, pealing poster. The face of Stalin was gone. The former First Secretary Klement Gottwald's face was barely visible. It appeared someone had scribbled a crude drawing on top of it. But the meaning of it had faded over time. Stalin set himself up as a savior to Prague. Hate and resentment only boiled forth when Russia failed to keep their promise. Tanks enforced peace after the war. Elections were a mockery. The people cried out for socialism. 

The Soldier moved on from the poster. Over the past few years unrest had again risen to unmanageable levels. Antonín Novotný stood at the brink of ruin. Rumblings of replacing him were becoming louder. If they replaced the First Secretary with a socialist the power the Soviet Union could wield would be diminished. Something he could not abide by. Nor his superiors. 

He had been here since October. The KSČ Central Committee had been holding meetings undermining Novotný. So far Alexander Dubček was the man who was best poised to take over. It didn't help that the Secretary of the Communist Party, Leonid Brezhnev, failed to support Novotný and instead choose to support the KSČ. A political maneuver that he hoped would dump a failing ruler and empower the local communists to choose anew. Someone better and brighter. The Soldier had his doubts though. 

The man stopped in front of a small food cart. The elderly woman manning it looked up and smiled at him.

"Ah, you have come again Dušan." Hana gave him a friendly gapped tooth smile.

"Yes. Your cooking has not scared me off yet." He smiled back, handing over money for his usual order. 

Hana hummed under her breath as she gathered some sausage links and added a houska, a braided bun, to the mix.

The man, masquerading as Dušan, stayed and chatted a small while with Hana. Catching up on any of interesting local gossip. His days had been busy since December when Brezhnev gave his go ahead to replace the Secretary. Acting as an aid to Sucharda, one of the KSČ members, was his other main source of information.

"Are you going to watch him?" Hana veered off her normal topics of gossip.

"Novotný?" The Soldier was quick to catch her meaning. "No. Not on the television. I will be there, off in some corner scribbling notes. As always." He flashed her another one of his winning smiles.

The motherly woman huffed and blushed. She whipped him with her towel. "Oh get on then. If you're late you might be in trouble." 

The man known as Dušan laughed, shoved the last sausage link in his mouth and moved off down the street. The sun had moved higher in the sky and some vestiges of warmth were beginning to appear.