[APH] Phoenixes never lose their wings

Chapter 1

Dear readers, I'd like to warn you that in this fanfic some curses will appear. If someone notices any mistake, please do inform me. And the last information: the 19th chapter is for mature readers. Have nice reading!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was snowing outside, slightly capping streets. In a room it was warm, even hot, but no one knew why. Maybe because of the fraught atmosphere or closed windows.

Most of the people sitting there seemed to be bored, and waiting for the end of the meeting. But the most bored was Feliks. He had mixed feelings about war councils – they were necessary and important because of a new battlefront etc., but listening each time argumenting and yelling was very burdensome. He was the type of person that prefered acts to talk. Especially, that the allies could prevent that kind of development. Admittedly, they counted him among the Supreme Allied Council and this was really beneficial, he and his government seriously affected the strategy, but Poland thought that he could stay at home and not go to the councils. Most of the meetings didn't concern him, so he didn't care about their course.

He truly wanted to sleep – it was so warm, and he could stand yelling of other personifications. He leaned on his hands, closed his eyes and was about spaced, but sitting beside him Sikorski dunched him at his arm and whispered, "Feliks, don't sleep."

Upset Feliks murmured and straightened up on a chair.

"What are they totally arguing about now?" he asked, looking at storming at each other England and France.

"France backed USA, and England, of course, criticised him," Sikorski answered.

"About what?"

"About wherefrom we'll start the assault; from the mouth of the Dordogne to occupy the coast, or from the Massif Central deep into the country beside the border with Switzerland."

Łukasiewicz sighed. France and England's confrontations were normal; at each meeting they were disputing about a battlefront or divisions, which would be used. The only one who was cutting them down to size was the American general Eisenhower; he was listening to their confrontations and then delivered the most sensible solution, mostly not corresponding neither the first nor the second. However, they didn't let it go, although since some time their words were less bitter.

Everybody thankfully acclaimed taking the floor by Eisenhower. He was speaking sensibly, but still, Poland didn't care about it. He lowered his gaze at a map lying before him. For him, it was an extremely bleak picture – the situation really sucked; in Italy the battlefront stopped at the Gothic Line, the Allies occupied the southern part of France to the Dordogne river, the Massif Central, and the Alps. And maybe it looked like a success, but the USRR was helping the Third Reich by sending arms, stores, fuel, and various goods. The paradox was that communistic country theoretically hadn't been taking part in the war. He moved his sight to Poland, or actually its grounds partitioned by a vertical line. He really wanted to see there a front, but he had to wait. Yes, exactly there was supposed to rise a third battlefront in Europe. A very risky plan, because opening the front was connected with declaring war on the Soviet Union. It was agreed only because of a great organised guerrilla, the Underground State, which could cause a successful uprising – the beginning of the battlefront – and because of a need of blocking the Reich from the supplies.

"... so, I think everybody agrees?" Eisenhower asked, looking at the assembled. It was seen that nobody had any argument to object, the majority was seconding him.

"I find it's everything for today. It's late and we set up everything we wanted."

Some of the gathered nodded, here and there someone said, "yes".