"Hell, why didn't you find out just now!"

"It's blocked by the woods, so what now!"

"Keep your composure and drive like this." Sweinbach patted his deputy's shoulder, then turned his head and shouted to his subordinates behind: "There is a barricade set up by the Soviet border guards ahead, I am going to mix it up as much as possible, and everyone will have to adapt when the time comes." ”。

The officers and men of the Werewolf Force were all systematically trained as agents, and they focused more on actual combat capabilities than the earlier Brandenburg troops, so they could theoretically be classified as either special forces or as an enhanced version of armed spies.

"Understood, Sergeant." The soldiers replied in unison.

"Does anyone feel fear?"

"No, Sergeant."

"Good!" Sweinbach was pleased with the mental state of his men.

"Stop slowly, Krent. Other than that... Keep smiling. The SS sergeant reminded him, and at the same time inserted Tokarev back into the holster at his waist.

Close enough to see each other's faces, a border sergeant in a gray winter coat waved a red traffic sign and directed the truck to slowly stop in front of the barricade.

"Please get out of the car, Comrade Lieutenant of National Security." The sergeant walked to the side of the co-pilot and gave a military salute to Sweinbach.

"No problem, Comrade Sergeant." Sweinbach put the PPD in his seat, opened the door and jumped out of the car.

"Please show your ID, Comrade National Security Lieutenant." Seeing the blue brimmed hat, the border guard soldiers on the side of the road involuntarily lowered the muzzle of the gun in their hands.

"Yes, Comrade Sergeant." Sweinbach smiled and took out his military ID from the inside pocket of his coat and handed it to the sergeant.

"The 236th Separate Guard Battalion of the Internal Affairs Forces, Andrei. Yermakovich. Lieutenant Nazar" The sergeant looked down at his papers, then looked up and compared the photo.

"What's the problem? Comrade Sergeant. Sweinbach asked.

"Ah, no problem, Comrade Lieutenant of State Security." The sergeant handed Sweinbach back his papers, and then gave another military salute: "It's just that this road has been blocked, and your cars can't pass through here." ”

"But we have an urgent mission." Sweinbach put the papers back in the inner pocket.

"I'm sorry, this is an order from the command, and we've just arrived here." The sergeant shrugged his shoulders and said he couldn't help himself.

"It's bad luck that I knew we should have gone sooner." Sweinbach glanced at the Maxim 1910 machine gun in the roadside carriage, then pulled out a cigarette case from his coat pocket, shook out a cigarette and put it in his mouth.

"Do you have fire on you, comrade sergeant?" Sweinbach fumbled in his pocket, then spoke to the sergeant.

"Here you go, Comrade Lieutenant." The sergeant fumbled into his coat pocket and pulled out a box of matches.

"It's a nice day, and if it snows like the other day, you're going to suffer." Sweinbach lit a match and returned most of the remaining box of cigarettes with the matches.

"How embarrassing is this, Comrade Lieutenant." The sergeant happily took the cigarette.

Ordinary Soviet soldiers were given a ration of 100 grams of tobacco leaves per month, also known as Mohe tobacco, which had become a Red Army tradition.

Everyone actually knew that cigarettes were easy to smoke, but they had to pay for them themselves, which was a lot of money at the time.

The Red Army units stationed in Poland were able to buy some cheap locally produced cigarettes, which were simply changed to Soviet-style brands and began to be sold to the Red Army units at the grassroots level. The problem was that in the eyes of the Red Army soldiers, the quality of Polish tobacco leaves was not as good as that of the Soviet Union, and the taste was not good, and even the strength was not enough.

What Sweinbach took out was White Sea Canal brand cigarettes in cartons, which were in high demand even in the Soviet Union, and were only distributed to the officer class in the Red Army.

The White Sea Canal cigarette is very Soviet, it does not have the filter of European high-grade cigarettes, but does not fill the tobacco at one end of the cigarette, deliberately empty a section, and then wrap a thicker layer of cigarette paper on the outside, forming a cigarette holder made of paper.

This cigarette is as energetic as other Soviet cigarettes, and it does not foam with smoke when smoked, so it is very popular with middle- and lower-ranking officers in the Soviet Union.

Suffice it to say that the Internal Affairs Troops, although also under the NKVD, were much better treated than the border guards, and in the sequence of the Soviet state apparatus they belonged to the same privileged class as several categories of technical arms.

"I'm sorry I can't help you, but you can get around from the west, Comrade Lieutenant." Under the envious gaze of his subordinates, the sergeant took a cigarette from the cigarette case, and then slipped the cigarette case into his coat pocket.

"Do you know what's going on up ahead?" Sweinbach spat out a smoke ring.

"I don't know very well, but I received a call from the battalion headquarters, saying that it was an order from the regiment." The sergeant struck a match and lit a cigarette.

"You're coming from Zabinka, Comrade Lieutenant."

"How do you know?"

"One of my cousins is now a sergeant in the 236th Separate Guard Battalion, and you may know him, Murasov. Nicholae. Matavovich. The sergeant threw the matchstick to the ground and stretched out his foot and ran it over.

"Well, I don't know, but I think I've heard someone mention it." Sweinbach dusted off his cigarette ashes.

"What's in the back of the car? Comrade Lieutenant. The sergeant asked, holding a cigarette behind his back with one hand behind his back.

"Ah, there's nothing either, it's just some..." Sweinbach said and turned to look at the carriage, and the moment he turned around, the SS non-commissioned officer quickly pulled Tokarev out of his holster.

Before the other party could react, the cold muzzle of the gun had already pressed against his forehead.

"It didn't have to be like this, Comrade Sergeant." Sweinbach pushed the muzzle of his gun forward.

"Since when have you become suspicious, Comrade Sergeant?"

"The White Sea Canal you brought with you was out of stock a month ago. And Matavovich was not a sergeant, but a lieutenant staff officer at the battalion headquarters. The sergeant replied calmly.

"It was a mistake and I'll learn from it." Sweinbach said with a smile.

"I advise you to lay down your arms and surrender immediately, unknown Mr. Spy, now that the area around the border has been sealed off by us, you and your companions will not be able to escape." The sergeant was undaunted and began to persuade the other party to surrender.

"Really? Comrade Sergeant, then we can wait and see. He had seen too many of these opponents in those days, and he had great respect for the bravery and perseverance they had shown. So, as usual, the SS sergeant did not hesitate to pull the trigger of the pistol.

Then a torrential rain of gunfire rang out, and the scene was instantly shrouded in a pale cyan smoke.

The cold wind quickly blew away the smoke, and a whole squad of Soviet border guards had all fallen in a pool of their own blood by this time.

The border guards were ordinary infantrymen, armed only with Mosin Nagant rifles, and although they were already on guard, they were taken by surprise by the Germans.

One of the biggest mistakes made by these border guards was not to check the carriages, the blue hats made them lower their vigilance, and they did not expect that there would be so many enemies hidden in the carriages.

The four-wheeled cart they were riding in was loaded with a Russian-made Makqin without a shield, but the front and co-gunner could not even fire a single bullet before they were knocked over in the car body.

"How did you find out there was something wrong with him? Staff sergeant. Krent, searching the body of the border guard sergeant, questioned Sweenbach.

His hand quietly gestured behind his back, and the soldier's eyes betrayed him. Sweinbach wiped his hands with a strip of cloth, the shot was so close that blood and brains splattered on the body and back of his hand.

"Put the body in the wagon, then push the cart into the bushes over there, collect the ammunition from the corpse, and don't forget to take the Maxim with you." Sweinbach commanded loudly.

"Now what should we do, the border has been blocked." Krent pulled the box of cigarettes from the sergeant's coat pocket.

"Do you know what General Clausewitz likes to say the most?"

"I don't know, war is a continuation of politics?"

"That's not right."

"The purpose of war is to destroy the enemy?"

"Not right, Krent... If you find that there is no way, just kill one and get out. The SS sergeant looked up into the distance.

"That's... Actually, you made it up. Krent squinted at the squad leader.

"yes, you saw through it." Sweinbach inserted the cleaned pistol back into its holster.