PREVIEW
...
43 Krugan Street, 1930 hours.
The number of elderly seated in the waiting room was growing.
The radio no longer broadcast from the distant capital, but rather the wireless communications of Antean pilots in the air.
“I strafed a half-track vehicle!”
“Damn, my bomb doesn’t seem to have broken the enemy’s resistance at the Post Office!”
“Where’s the Post Office? I’ve still got bombs!”
...
Old man Dudayev yelled, “The Post Office is t ...
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