Dmitri understood almost instantly why the Germans had begun bombarding the Central Fortress instead of Kobrin Fortress.
The Instructor.
That traitor had told them everything.
Every detail of the plan.
It felt like something cold sank into Dmitri's chest. Not fear—he was already used to fear—but something worse. Betrayal.
Because of that one man, the Germans had reacted faster than expected. They had deployed their massive 600mm siege mortars, weapons meant to crush fortified lines like the Maginot Line, and now they were turning them on Brest.
...
On the German side, Colonel Lucas had been genuinely impressed when he received the intelligence.
"Who said these Ivans don't understand tactics?" he remarked, lowering his binoculars. "This is a well-planned breakout. If not for this information, they might have slipped through."
But admiration didn't stop him.
He immediately corrected his earlier mistake.
The main German forces, previously repositioned toward the northern forests, were now redirected eastward. Artillery units were ordered to fire on any suspected gathering points, especially near the church, where Soviet forces were likely regrouping.
...
Back at the fortress, the situation quickly became worse—not just physically, but mentally.
The betrayal hit the soldiers hard.
If it had been an ordinary soldier deserting, it would have been easier to accept. Everyone knew the situation was desperate. Hunger, exhaustion, and fear pushed men to their limits.
But this was the Instructor.
The same man who constantly preached loyalty.
The same man who called others cowards and traitors.
The same man who acted like he stood above everyone else.
And now… he had run.
That realization spread like poison through the ranks.
...
Major Gavrilov understood the danger immediately.
He paused, just for a second, before speaking firmly,"No. That is only a rumor."
He scanned the soldiers around him, his voice turning cold and commanding.
"Until the situation is confirmed, no one is allowed to spread such talk. Is that understood?"
"Yes, Comrade Major!"
"Yes!"
The replies came quickly, but not convincingly.
Dmitri could feel it—no one truly believed it.
But they accepted it.
Because right now, belief didn't matter.
Survival did.
...
Beside him, Okunev clenched his fists, anger burning in his eyes.
He spat on the ground and muttered,
"I have an idea, Dmitri… what if we surrender, find that bastard, and kill him ourselves?"
Dmitri glanced at him.
He understood.
More than understood.
There was something deeply personal about betrayal like this. It wasn't just about war anymore—it was about pride, anger, and justice.
But still, Dmitri shook his head.
"Don't be stupid."
Okunev frowned. "Why not?"
"Even if you surrender, they won't put you anywhere near him," Dmitri replied calmly. "You'll just end up dead or in a camp."
Okunev didn't answer immediately. His jaw tightened.
"So we just let him live?" he asked quietly.
Dmitri looked toward the dark horizon.
"No," he said after a pause. "The Germans won't let him live for long."
He knew something most of the others didn't yet fully understand.
German forces often executed political officers on sight.
The Instructor had chosen the worst possible side to run to.
...
There was no more time to think about it.
The operation had already begun.
...
The first wave of soldiers moved out silently, carrying inflatable rafts toward the riverbank. Under the cover of darkness, they pushed the rafts into the cold waters of the Bug River.
Each raft held about ten men.
Most of them could swim—almost everyone stationed at Brest had learned, since rivers surrounded the fortress. Swimming wasn't a skill anymore. It was survival.
In total, there were about twenty-five rafts, split into three groups.
Upper stream.
Middle.
Lower stream.
The idea was simple: spread out, confuse the enemy, and overwhelm a weak point.
If the plan hadn't been exposed, it might have worked perfectly.
A night crossing. Surprise attack. Numerical advantage.
It could have been enough.
...
But now…
...
The moment the rafts pushed off, flares exploded into the sky.
Whoosh
Bright white light flooded the river, turning the dark water into a glowing mirror.
"Damn it…" Dmitri muttered under his breath.
They had been expected.
...
Then came the gunfire.
A storm of bullets ripped across the river.
Machine guns opened up from the opposite bank, their tracers slicing through the night like streaks of fire.
Men shouted.
Some screamed.
Some didn't make a sound at all.
Bullets tore into the rafts, splintering wood and punching through flesh. Soldiers fell into the river, some dead before they hit the water, others thrashing desperately before disappearing beneath the surface.
A mortar shell landed directly on one of the rafts.
BOOM!
The explosion lit up the river for a split second.
When the smoke cleared, the raft was gone.
So were the men.
...
Dmitri gritted his teeth.
It was chaos.
But not complete failure.
The attack was wide enough that the Germans couldn't focus their fire everywhere at once. Some rafts were still moving. Some soldiers were getting closer to the opposite bank.
There was still a chance.
A small one.
But a chance.
Then everything changed.
Two massive explosions tore through the night.
Boom Boom
Not like normal artillery.
Not like mortars.
This was something else.
Something heavier.
Something terrifying.
The super-heavy artillery.
The first shell landed about a hundred meters from the church.The ground shook violently.
Dmitri felt the shockwave slam into his chest like a physical force. His vision blurred, and a sharp ringing filled his ears.
For a moment, he couldn't hear anything at all.
Just silence.
The second shell hit the church directly.
It punched through the structure like it was made of paper, drilling into the foundation—
Then exploded.
BOOOOM!
The blast was deafening.
The church seemed to lift off the ground before collapsing inward. Windows shattered instantly, sending shards of glass flying in every direction like deadly rain.
Dmitri instinctively dropped to the ground.
Around him, soldiers cried out as glass fragments sliced into their skin.
Dust and debris filled the air.
The smell of smoke, dirt, and burning wood spread quickly.
For a moment, everything felt unreal.
Like the world had been ripped apart.
Dmitri slowly pushed himself up, coughing.
His ears were still ringing.
His head was spinning.
But one thought cut through the chaos clearly.
They knew.
The Germans knew exactly where they were.
And now…
They were targeting them with everything they had.
The crossing had just turned into a massacre.