SuperSoldier (SI-OC/MCU) ENG

12: The Last Stronghold

12: The Last Stronghold

John landed hard on the ground, causing it to shake violently. The cloud of dust that rose up concealed his figure for a few seconds before he cleared it away with a wave of his hand.

John walked out with firm steps, leaving behind the crater his body had created upon landing. He brushed off the dirt and looked up at the sky. The sound of the airplane engines was gone. He had destroyed the last of them, and now it was time to clean up this mess.

He walked and surveyed the entire base. The soldiers were celebrating as they emerged from their hiding places. Wherever John passed, they cheered louder, chanting his name. John waved at them and smiled. It was good to see his reputation growing, but it wasn't the time to enjoy it.

He spent several minutes helping with the "cleanup" before the situation was stable enough to have a proper discussion.

He met with the four main leaders of the partisan army and quickly began giving orders. They needed to count their numbers, know how many men they had lost, and how many weapons they had left.

"We need to regroup and tend to our wounded. I don't think this will be the only thing they try against us, but I won't let them think they can do anything more. They outnumber us, and if we let them continue preparing, it will be too dangerous."

In the makeshift meeting room, John spoke gravely as he looked at the map spread out on the table.

"What do you suggest we do, Captain? So far, we've been able to advance without problems, but if what the prisoners say is true, then more than 15,000 heavily armed men are waiting to crush us in Sand in Taufers," Marcello said. The middle-aged man had seen better days; he was covered in dirt and ashes, as well as freshly bandaged wounds.

"That's right. We've lost at least 100 men in this surprise attack. We barely number a thousand, and that includes the wounded... If we keep advancing, we'll simply lose," Lorenzo said with a sigh.

There was willpower; no one wanted to stop fighting. But when the numerical difference is so great, there isn't much that can be done. Not only that, their enemies had better and more lethal weapons, and although they had managed to steal some of them, the number that should be in a group of over fifteen thousand soldiers would surely dwarf the number in their hands.

Not to mention any unknown weapons the German army might have. Those planes were something they had never seen before. What else was there? What things beyond their imagination would hit them in the face when the time came?

"If it's the numbers that worry us, I think I have a possible solution," Nicola spoke up this time.

Everyone looked at him, waiting for him to speak.

"I know many of you have already noticed, but for those who haven't, I'll say it directly. The truth is, we haven't found any prisoners so far, aside from the corpses." Silence reigned for a second, the faces of everyone present darkening as they recalled the sad scenes that greeted them.

Men, women, or children, it seemed the German army did not discriminate when it came to killing them.

"At the captain's request, my men have been focusing on finding out why. Before the recent bombardment, we had been interrogating several prisoners, and I believe we have discovered something important."

Nicola let one of his men step forward. The soldier looked somewhat nervous, yet he spoke clearly and without hesitation.

"We obtained this information from three different men. We ensured they had no contact with each other, and the three versions matched without any alteration. When the German army attacked northern Italy and advanced to Brunico, they began taking prisoners in large numbers. It didn't matter the gender or age; as long as they were 'healthy' and could 'work,' they were taken. and Those who were too old or injured were... killed."