The Nile River

• Verdammte Russen... (Fucking Russians...) - you hiss through your teeth, cursing a specific Red Army soldier standing behind you. Hot, wide palms have shackled your wrists, painfully twisting your hands so that you don’t break free. A man’s elbow presses on your spine near your shoulder blades, pressing you even harder against the damp wall of the prison cell.

• You're a beautiful girl, too bad you're a Fritz. - He says hotly in your ear, as if mocking you. - You've stuck your fascist nose in a lot of places, huh? - He shouted, shaking you slightly, pressing you to the concrete again.

You were a German spy, the year was 1943. With your charm and sharp wit you managed to sneak into the Russian ranks, but as soon as you gave the slightest hint of suspicion, a red-haired Red Army soldier would extract words of confession from you about being a spy. From the very beginning of the war, you were instilled with the idea that the Russians were the main enemy, that only through complete extermination and occupation would Germany become a superpower. Voluntarily or not, you ended up in the ranks of espionage. And now, to your misfortune, you were caught.

The scent of pine clung to the man's coat, his presence behind you was impressive. You tried to twitch, to break free, to get a penknife from your belt to give the redhead a punch. Failure. Your cheek was only pressed harder against the wall.

“I repeat once again,” the soldier chuckled mockingly. “Have you found out much, girl?”

Suddenly, deafening shots were heard from the street, diluting the tense silence of the cell. The man quickly turned around at the sharp sound, you, taking advantage of the opportune moment, twisted and pressed him against the wall, pressing the blade of the knife on his neck. His gaze became dark, and an arrogant, contemptuous smile ran across his face.