Snow fell in heavy, suffocating curtains as Rā'id pushed deeper into the Norwegian forest. The cold bit into him like teeth, gnawing at the edges of his consciousness. His shoulder bled steadily, each pulse a reminder that he was still alive—barely.
Behind him, the mountain groaned.
Wolfenhalle's systems were failing.
Lights burned bright against the night sky. Searchlights thrashed through the darkness like wounded beasts. Sirens wailed as if the mountain itself was screaming.
The Phoenix core wasn't going to explode—he knew that. Not completely. It wasn't a nuclear device. But damaging it meant one thing:
The Nazis would know someone had infiltrated Level Seven.
And whoever they suspected, whatever list they checked—a name would eventually surface.
Rā'id Khalid al-Masri.
He had hours. Maybe less.
The forest blurred. His breath grew sharp. He stumbled, hit a fallen branch, collapsed again.
He tasted blood.
His mind drifted.
Dark images flickered—Heydrich's corpse, glowing veins, the humming machinery that should never have existed. The whisper of the scientists:
The soul can be weaponized.
And the coffin-machine. The rebirth. The resurrection.
He clutched his head.
"Ya Allah… what have they created?"
His vision dimmed.
Then the snow shifted.
Footsteps—not German. Too soft. Too light.
He tried to stand, but his limbs refused.
The footsteps stopped beside him.
A gloved hand turned him over gently.
"Rā'id?"
A voice. Feminine. Familiar.
He blinked through the frost.
"Svetlana?"
The Soviet agent knelt beside him, snowflakes gathering in her hair, her expression torn between anger and relief.
"What stupidity brought you this far north alone?" she hissed. "You weren't supposed to infiltrate Wolfenhalle without backup!"
He tried to answer, but the cold had stolen his voice.
Svetlana cursed softly in Russian and checked his wound.
"Bullet graze. Frozen blood. You're lucky—if you were shot two centimeters higher, you'd be dead."
He managed a weak smirk. "Would've been… a simpler end."
"Not for me," she snapped. "Not for any of us."
She pulled him up, supporting his weight.
"Come. Before the hounds reach us."
THE OLD RESISTANCE CABIN
The two trudged through the forest for nearly thirty minutes before reaching a small wooden cabin nestled among the pines. Smoke rose from its chimney—just enough to imply life, not enough to draw Nazi aircraft.
Inside, a small fire glowed. Supplies were stacked neatly. Maps pinned to the walls. A radio humming faintly on a table.
A safehouse.
Svetlana dragged Rā'id inside, locked the door, and pushed him onto a cot.
"You're half-dead," she muttered. "Lie still."
He tried to sit up. "I need to contact the Kremlin. Phoenix—"
"No," she interrupted sharply. "First you're going to breathe. Then you'll talk."
She heated a knife in the fire, sterilized it, and began treating his wound with practiced efficiency.
He didn't even flinch. He'd endured far worse.
"So," she said quietly, "did you find it?"
Rā'id closed his eyes.
"Yes."
"And the rumors? About resurrection?"
He shivered.
"Confirmed."
Svetlana froze mid-motion.
"Explain."
Rā'id swallowed. "Heydrich was there. Not alive—yet. But close. Very close."
Her eyes widened.
"And you destroyed it?"
"I delayed it," he said. "But they'll rebuild. Phoenix is too important to abandon."
Svetlana stood slowly, pacing. Her boots thudded on the wooden floor.
"This changes everything," she whispered. "If the Nazis can revive their dead… they can revive their leaders. Their generals. Their ideology."
Rā'id nodded. "A thousand-year Reich… literally endless."
Before she could respond, the cabin windows shook violently.
A boom echoed outside.
Svetlana froze. "Was that—?"
Rā'id stood despite the pain. "Depth charges. They're searching the fjord."
The radio crackled. A coded Soviet transmission played:
"GROUP VARYAG… SEEKING EAGLE.
IDENTIFY IF SECURE."
Svetlana rushed to the radio. "This is Falcon-2. Eagle is wounded. Extraction possible in 10 minutes."
Before she finished, another explosion rocked the mountainside. Snow cascaded from the roof.
Rā'id steadied himself, breath steaming.
"We have to move."
THE NAZI PURSUIT
They exited the cabin and raced through the trees as spotlights stabbed down from overhead aircraft. Dogs barked in the distance. German voices shouted orders.
Svetlana led them downhill toward a frozen river.
Rā'id hissed, "The ice won't hold!"
"It doesn't need to. Just step where I step."
They slid onto the frost-covered river surface. Cracks formed beneath their boots but held. Behind them, searchlights converged.
"THERE! AUF DEM FLUSS!"
Gunfire erupted.
Svetlana grabbed Rā'id's arm. "Brace!"
She kicked the ice at a weak point—
It shattered—
The river swallowed them whole.
Freezing darkness engulfed them. The current dragged them violently.
Cold like knives shredded Rā'id's lungs. His vision darkened. He fought upward. Broke the surface with a gasp.
Svetlana pulled him toward an overhanging rock formation.
They crawled beneath it, panting.
Above them, German soldiers shouted along the riverbank.
"ZU WEIT! THEY SANK! MOVE UPSTREAM!"
Their voices faded.
Rā'id collapsed back against the rock.
"How," he gasped, "are you still alive?"
Svetlana smirked. "I grew up in a village where we break ice for fun in winter."
He groaned. "Russians are… insane."
She shrugged proudly. "We survive."
THE EXFILTRATION
Twenty minutes later, they reached a clearing where a Soviet twin-rotor helicopter hovered just above the tree line. Its rear hatch opened as they approached.
Two Spetsnaz operatives pulled them aboard.
The helicopter rose sharply, cutting through the freezing wind.
Rā'id leaned back, exhausted, watching Wolfenhalle disappear behind a curtain of snow.
Svetlana sat beside him, expression grim.
"You realize what happens next, don't you?"
He nodded. "The Soviets will want to weaponize Phoenix too."
"Not weaponize," she said quietly.
"Understand it. Control it. Prevent the Nazis from mastering it first."
Rā'id stared at her.
"And if they fail?"
She looked away.
"Then we are all doomed."
The helicopter headed east, toward the Finnish border.
Toward Soviet territory.
Toward the next chapter of the war.