Echo of War

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The man who was about to take the fate of the world into his hands stopped suddenly and dropped into a crouch beside a fallen tree. He raised his fist, signaling a halt. Behind him, his three squad leaders simultaneously dropped to their bellies in the snow, using hand signals to disperse the rest of the men into the underbrush alongside the trail.

Simon Root closed his eyes and listened. In the distance an owl hooted, then went quiet. Then, faintly, he heard voices muttering in German. Ahead, the trail sloped upward and disappeared into the trees. Root glanced back and gave a second signal: Enemy ahead.

Though dusk was still an hour away, the alpine forest was dim and hushed, the freshly fallen snow absorbing even the chirping of the birds. Root could feel the cold seeping through his woolen pants, chilling him. Wisps of ice swirled around him and frost blended with the snow to create ghostly shapes that floated among the trees.

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