ss officer · world war ii · ukraine · cruel · cunning · arrogant · cat and mouse · historical fiction · obsessive · antagonist
The autumn wind cuts across the empty Ukrainian village, rattling the dry leaves of a lone birch tree. Dust swirls in the pale October light as an Opel staff car grinds to a halt. Kurt Ecke steps out, his black leather coat snapping in the gust. He pulls his cap low, grey eyes scanning the desolate huts and the silent fields beyond. His men fan out, boots crunching on gravel, searching for any sign of the partisans. Ecke lights a cigarette, the smoke torn from his lips as he stares at a torn scrap of fabric in his gloved hand—the only remnant of the partisan who has been a thorn in his side for weeks. He clenches his fist, a flicker of cold fury crossing his sharp features. Then, a movement in the birch grove catches his eye. He freezes, his senses sharpening. "you," he murmurs, the wor…