The bad mood, Frank had to struggle with since days, was still there, when he returned to Ivas. In his mind, the disappointment about the failure in Estonia and the generally poor state of the freedom movement, was always rumbling under the surface.

  Even Julia, who wanted to show him the new village school today, could not liberate Frank`s mind from all the sorrows and concerns. However, the daughter of the foreign minister had a much better vein, because she was still busy with her educational mission.

  Now they walked down the main street of Ivas which was covered with a thick blanket of snow and Julia led Frank to a small house - the “school” of the village. Actually, it was not more than a large, lovingly renovated room, in which about two dozen chairs and a few wooden tables had been set up.

  “This is the place, where I am teaching the children of Ivas”, explained Julia with a proud smile and walked through the front door of the house. A sign mit the inscription “Thorsten-Wilden-School” hung above the door sill and Frank grinned when he saw it.

  “We didn`t name it “Artur-Tschistokjow-School”, because it seems that meanwhile every second school in Belarus is named after him.” She smirked.

  “Nevertheless, I would prefer ”Julia-Wilden-School”, joked the young woman, nudging Frank with the elbow.

  “School-of-the-great-hero-Frank-Kohlhaas” sounds much better”, he answered.

  “Idiot!”

  When Julia and her friend entered the classroom, the heads of about 30 boys and girls immediately turned around. Some children giggled quietly or whispered in the background.

  “This is the boy-friend of Mrs. Wilden”, Frank believed to have heard somewhere.

  Julia went to the desk and beheld the pupils with a strict face. Frank remained in the back of the room and waited what would happen next.

  “With a teacher like this, I would voluntarily go to school forever”, he thought and leaned against the wall.

  “Good morning, children!”

  “Good morning, Mrs. Wilden!”

  “Today we have a guest! Who could it be?”, asked Julia with a loud voice.

  A small, red-haired girl put her hand up and snapped her fingers.

  “Maria!”

  “General Frank Kohlhaas, the greatest hero of our country and the whole village”, said the little girl enthusiastically.

  The “greatest hero” behind her back reacted with an embarrassed smile and gave Julia a wink, while the children looked at him with boundless admiration.

  On the opposite wall was a large portrait of Artur Tschistokjow. Under the picture was a small plate with some biographical informations about the leader of the freedom movement. On the other side hung a big dragon head flag, shining in bright colors.

  “Today, general Kohlhaas will tell us about the first days of the revolution. At that time, Artur Tschistokjow, my father and many brave men like Mr. Kohlhaas have fought against our enemy, the World Government. It was a terrible time for us and the Belarusian people, who were tortured by the terror regime of the World Union.”

  “Shall I start with my…?” Frank paused confusedly. He had not expected this.

  “I give you a sign, okay?”, replied Julia a little bossy.

  “Who is governing the world and wants to destroy us?”, asked the young woman.

  “The Lodge Brothers!”, chorused the children.

  “Who are the Lodge Brothers?”

  Almost all the children put their hands up and were whispered and talking. Julia eventually selected a pudgy blond boy.

  “Gottfried!”

  “The…uh…Lodge Brothers are a secret global organization that controls the earth…uh…since 2018, they have the world domination”, elucidated the boy and smiled.

  It took a few minutes, because Julia led her students explain her astonished guest, which was the ruling group inside the global organization and how it was structured. Then the children talked about the political goals of the “world enemy”.

  Frank was stunned. The pretty teacher had just transformed into a female Tschistokjow! Finally, she beckoned Frank, who looked nervously around, to come to the desk. Meanwhile, Kohlhaas tried to find some good stories he could tell the children.

  “General Kohlhaas will tell you now about his experiences. Everything must be written down!”, announced Julia.

  “Then I just talk about some stuff, okay?”, whispered the young man into Julia`s ear.

  “Let us be part of all your heroic deeds, my dear…”, she said softly and had to smirk because of Frank`s bashfulness.

  “Well…uh…I`m Frank…I mean general Kohlhaas…uh…and I`m from Berlin. Hello, kids!”, said the leader of the trooper units, who was known for his fearlessness. Julia could barely suppress a laugh…

  By significantly reducing the oil and gas prices, Tschistokjow tried to become even more popular among the Belarusians. Now he could look back on almost a year of his reign and his country had already recovered a bit. But this did not mean, that the economic crisis had already ended. After long periods of decay, starvation and freezing, the people of Belarus thanked their leader for even the smallest improvements of their life situation.

  Meanwhile, Uljanin`s collectivists were the dominating force in many parts of central Russia and ruled the streets of the bigger cities. They had become stronger and stronger in the last months, and the CASJ was now a giant mass movement.

  Several factories in Russia had finally not been closed or outsourced to other countries, after protests of the collectivists. So millions of Russians regarded the CASJ as some kind of protecting power for the poor.

  Apart from that, Uljanin`s organization now also started feeding the poor on a grand scale and successfully defused the state of general discontent that had grown in the last time. The great international banks financed these operations at the behest of the World Government.

  The ordinary Russian knew nothing about the backgrounds of these things and so the ranks of Uljanin`s CASJ filled with countless new members.

  The sidewalks were overcrowded with cheering and shouting people. Ugly, dilapidated buildings surrounded the Rus and hundreds of flags were waving above the heads of the demonstrators. More and more men and women joined the crowd. Soon, the main street of Orel was completely clogged with people and the marching columns reached the city center. Artur Tschistokjow was in the first rank again and about 10000 supporters followed him. A lot of citizens applauded and cheered when he came nearer, others were cursing or screamed: “Uljanin! Uljanin!”

  After three kilometers, the Rus were welcomed by the first swarms of collectivists that greeted them with cobblestones and molotov cocktails. They were accompanied by a lot of police officers, who tried to encircle the demonstrators.

  The troopers took their guns and went into position. From a side street they suddenly heard a piercing scream, then the collectivists and the policemen charged and began to fire.

  Today, Frank and the other Rus had gone right into the lion`s den, because Orel was not less than 250 kilometers away from the border of Belarus.

  The troopers in their gray shirts fired back immediately, and the first opponents were sent to the ground. Then the collectivists surged like an furious wave against the front ranks of the marching columns and all hell broke loose.

  Shortly afterwards, the armored cars of the Russian police rolled through the streets, firing with their heavy autocannons at every Rus in sight, while Tschistokjow`s men were seized by panic.

  Neither Frank nor Artur Tschistokjow could prevent them from fleeing. They finally run away, driven by boundless terror, right into the arms of the collectivist mobs behind them.

  It was a catastrophe. Only with a big portion of luck, Frank and his troopers made it to escape the frenzied hordes that came over the Rus like a cloud of raging hornets.

  They run through a long avenue, turned into a narrow side street and threw away their gray shirts before their enemies could recognize and lynch them.

  On that day, the Rus were hum
iliated once more and the rally ended in a total defeat. Tschistokjow`s bodyguards brought their leader out of the inner city and hid him in the apartment of a comrade before the Russian police could catch or kill him.

  Orel ultimately became another great desaster for the freedom movement. The collectivists chased their opponents for hours, beating anyone down who looked like a supporter of Tschistokjow. Finally, the demonstration ended with 64 dead and several hundred wounded Rus.

  Alf had stayed at home. He had had a bad feeling from the beginning and Kohlhaas had to prove him right, when he came back to Minsk, totally exhausted and disturbed. Tschistokjow himself escaped to Belarus deep in the night and hid in his apartment for the next days. The media showered him with derision and scorn, declaring that the World Government would soon smash his regime.

  “Tschistokjow and his movement are finished!”, exulted the New York Star after the rally in Orel.

  Seized by frustration and desperation, the leader of the Rus sat in a small room in the farthest corner of the presidential palace in Minsk. He had locked the door behind him.

  Today, Artur did not want to see anybody and even Wilden had been disinvited again. Whimpering he dropped down the wall, holding his head. It was a shattered picture of misery as he huddled in this dark corner, bereft of all hope.

  The attempt to face the collectivist power in Orel had failed spectacularly. But the worst was the fact, that so many people had only given him nothing but scorn. They had insulted and derided him. His opponents and the police had smashed the Rus and chased them through the city like mangy dogs.

  He had called, but the Russians had not heard his voice anymore. No, because meanwhile they followed Uljanin and his collectivists, who had triumphed once again. The rebel leader was terribly depressed and gave the impression as if he had finally lost his almost proverbial confidence. Artur Tschistokjow was demoralized, and it was the same with most of his followers. Doubting and complaining, he was sitting alone on the ground, admitting to himself, that Orel had probably been the beginning of the end.

  “Lord, how shall I fight the children of the devil, if you take my faith from me?”, he whispered, while he started to cry quietly. Bitter Tears filled his bright eyes. Tschistokjow knew no way out and fell into a dark sea of self-pity.

  Vitali Uljanin had flown to the Middle East for a few days to meet a member of the Council of the 13 in a luxury hotel. This morning, they had already walked through a wonderful garden full of blooming olive trees, while they had talked about the strategies of the collectivist movement.

  The wise seemed to have big plans with him and his new mass organization. Uljanin, the collectivist leader, who was born in Brooklyn, New York, was avid.

  Now he was sitting in a sun-drenched suite, together with a multi-billion dollar company boss, waiting nervously for the next orders of the elders.

  “Brother Uljanin, the success of your movement is amazing and we are fascinated by the rapid growth of your organization”, said the man and smiled.

  “This is just the beginning, Sir. I will make collectivism to a stormy wave that will come over the whole world”, answered Uljanin and smiled back.

  His counterpart cleared his throat and replied: “Please wait, brother. At first, it is the task of collectivism to absorb the discontented masses in Russia, in order to render them harmless…”

  Uljanin scratched his chin. “Why Russia, Sir?”

  “Why? Well, I will explain it again for you, brother. Do we need the collectivist movement in western Europe?”

  “I do not know, Sir!”

  “No, in western and central Europe, our decades long work of destruction and decomposition has already borne fruit, so that none of the old nations can oppose us anymore. Even in case of a big social crisis, the remnants of the German, English or French nation would not be able to revolt against us”, explained the gray-haired gentleman.

  “Probably not…”, muttered Uljanin.

  “Definitely not, brother! Rely on the foresight of the elders. The once powerful and great nations of the west are firmly in our hands. Furthermore, their old cultures, their value systems and their ethnic structures are so badly damaged, that they are too weak to stand up against us anymore. We have poisoned the nations of western Europe and there is no more chance to heal them.”

  “Certainly you are right, Sir!”, answered the collectivist leader.

  “Yes, of course I`m right, brother Uljanin”, whispered the councillor and looked at his fellow with a sarcastic grin.

  Then he continued: “On the territories of the former western European nations we have established multiethnic societies. The French, the Germans, the English and so on, have already become minorities in their own lands and they are dying out. Germany, France or England are no more white and European lands. Meanwhile, these formerly important countries are inhabited by a population, that consists of countless fragments of different heritage.

  We have brought people from all over the world to Europe, to destroy the old white world and because we know, that a population like this is unable to unite against us in a common front. But it is different in Russia!”

  Uljanin nodded. “The Russian nation is still not completely destroyed. Its culture has not totally vanished so far and a lot of Russians still have some kind of patriotism.

  The gentleman in the black suit raised his index finger: “Right, brother Uljanin! You have understood me. Hence, it is the task of collectivism to raze old Russia to the ground. The brutal violence of the collectivist revolution shall smash Russia to pieces. The last European nation, which still can become dangerous for us, shall be crushed by the force of collectivism.

  You, brother Uljanin, shall extinguish the remnants of old Russia with flame and sword. You shall destroy its culture and wipe out the European population in the long term, but before that, we will take away even their last property.

  If you are successful, then you can extend the collectivist revolution to other countries, for example to China or maybe to India. The elders will decide what shall happen in the future, brother.”

  Vitali Uljanin became enthusiastic: “This is great, Sir! After the era of capitalism, that has already destroyed the old world, the collectivist revolution will be the final chapter of the Great Plan.”

  The councilor pushed his underjaw forward and bared his teeth. His eyes glittered coldly and cynically. “Yes, maybe, brother Uljanin.”

  “We are always one step ahead of our enemies, aren`t we, Sir?”

  “Of course! In the long run, no one has ever been able to compete with our craftiness. We moreover don`t attribute this Freedom Movement of the Rus any special significance. This organization is ridiculous, tiny and totally unimportant.”

  The head of the CASJ clenched his fist and growled: “I will crush Tschistokjow and his followers. I will turn the anger of the masses against him and finally ring the death knell of Russia!”

  The elder leaned back contentedly in his chair and returned: “So it shall be! Ring the death knell, brother Uljanin! Ring it and let its deafening noise resound across Eastern Europe. Ring it, until everything lays in ruins, until the last spark of hope has been extinguished under the boots of the revolutionaries. You are an important servant of the Great Plan, Uljanin brother! Never forget that!”

  The collectivist leader humility looked at his superior and nodded. “I`m proud to make such a great contribution! And I will not disappoint the Council of the Wise!”

  “What has happened?”, asked Julia and looked at Frank.

  “What do you mean?”

  “At the demonstration in Orel!”

  Frank`s distorted his mouth. “Don`t ask…”

  “One day, they will shoot you”, said the young woman worriedly.

  “Probably…”, she heard from the side.

  “Oh great,! You are fearless – as always, aren`t you?”

  Kohlhaas shook his head: “No, of course not. The rally in Orel has been terrible and I`m mo
re than gald, that they haven`t killed me.

  “But nevertheless, you will go on. I`m sure that Artur has already planned the next demonstrations and street fights”, muttered Julia.

  “Yes, that`s the way it is. I am at least responsible for a big part of the trooper units.”

  “And Tschistokjow can`t find another man for this?”

  The rebel stared at the ground and was silent.

  “Please talk to him again!”, demanded Julia.

  Frank stopped her with a wave of his hand. “No, that`s my job. I lead the troopers…”

  “I understand, Frank. You are the great general in the first rank. Anyway, I only see riots, chaos and dead people on TV”, she said.

  Kohlhaas slowly became angry. “The world can`t be liberated in a few years. It is a long and exhaustive fight and…”

  The pretty blonde grinned sardonically. “Liberate the world? Sometimes I think that you`re nuts, Frank.”

  “However, it is important that we carry the revolution further towards Russia. Artur Tschistokjow has already explained it and I agree with his strategic plans. Stagnation is no option for us.”

  “Your fight is a fight against windmills, Frank. Our enemies are too strong. Maybe Artur should build up Belarus at first, before he starts the next revolution in a giant country like Russia.”

  “You do not understand anything!”, grumbled Frank.

  “Oh, no? Perhaps he should help the Belarusian people first and foremost, before he fights again somewhere”, she added without understanding.

  “Your father also says, that we must expand the revolution to Russia”, remarked the rebel grumpily.

  Julia reacted with a cynical smile and answered: “My father lifes in his own world, since many years. His head is full of all the knowledge from his political books, but he is not able to see the little things around him. Little things like his wife or his daugther for example.”

  “I would prefer peace as well, but the World Government won`t give us any room to live. Hence, we must fight to survive!”, hissed Frank.

  Meanwhile, Julia was annoyed and addressed further reproaches to Kohlhaas.

  “Sometimes I do not believe that you really hope for peace too, Frank! It often seems, that you are only live to fight…”

  The rebel interrupted her curtly: “This is nonsense! I want to live in peace as well, but our enemies will not leave us alone! Be realistic!”

  “And if you would even try it exceptionally with negotiations?”, she suggested.

  Frank looked at her with an condescending smile, as if he wouldn`t take her all too serious.

  “Negotiations?”, he muttered softly. “You can even try it once, Julia...”

  Now the daughter of foreign minister jumped up, positioned herself in front of him and narrowed her eyes to slits. Then she stared grimly down on the general and clenched her fists.

  “What do you want from me?”, grumbled Frank.

  “I would try it!”, said Julia vigorously.

  Kohlhaas answered with a shake of his head and walked away.

  “Wow, the great hero is speechless, isn`t he?”, she sneered angrily.

  “Shut up and take care of your primary school children! You have absolutely no idea who our enemy is”, screamed Frank.

  “There he goes, the brave general! On to new heroic deeds! I promise you, that I will look after your grave from time to time, Frank”, shouted Julia.

  Kohlhaas did not look back and finally left her alone. The daughter of the village chiefs stared after him in silence until he was out of sight.

  Frank came back to Minsk in late January and talked with Tschistokjow about the future of the movement. According to the rebel leader, who had recovered more or less, there was no other option than going on with the political struggle in Russia.

  Sergej Spehar, the mastermind of the freedom movement in Russia, had been attacked by some collectivists one week ago and had almost died. Now he was in intensive care in a hospital in Smolensk. The authorities were already awaiting the day, when he could leave his bed again to put him on trial for “illegal, political activities” and “breach of the peace”. For months they had chased and now finally arrested him. It was clear, that Spehar would be sentenced to death after a show trial.

  Therefore, Tschistokjow made Andrej Luschenko, an unemployed and extremely fanatical academic, to his successor.

  However, the advance to western Russia took place very slowly and only a small number of new members could be recruited. Furthermore, Tschistokjow`s men were only able to get active in smaller towns and villages, while the bigger cities already belonged to the collectivists.

  At that time, the Lodge Brothers saw no more necessitiy to fight the Rus with GCF troops. Meanwhile, collectivist groups tried to gain influence even in the underground of Belarus, while Peter Ulljewski and his DSR men did everything to drive the opponents back.

  Apart from that, the new year brought a lot of further conflicts, which attracted the attention of the World Government. In Bolivia, rebels groups almost succeeded to overthrow the vassal government, and in Palestine the quarrels between Israelis and Arabs were escalating more and more. And even in Iran, the guerrillas were still not completely defeated.

  So the military strike against Belarus was postponed again, because the final victory of collectivism seemed to be only a question of time.

  In China and India, Mardochow`s ideology was meanwhile spreading at breakneck speed and the first collectivist groups and associations had already been founded.

  But the heart of the red-black movement remained Russia, where millions of people followed Uljanin. The media supported the CASJ with all their might and reported almost every day about the collectivist leader and his “humanistic ideals of social justice and equality”.

  “We are concentrating all our forces on Estonia. If we are not able to show the people another success, our revolution will finally fall asleep”, said the Belarusian president.

  “But what is, if things go wrong again? You have success -here in Belarus. The people love you and are very content with your policy”, remarked Peter Ulljewski.

  “Belarus is just a tiny piece of land and no mighty fortress. We are simply too weak and our country is too small. So it won`t change anything, if we can get some more weapons from the Japanese or the Belarusians are happy!”, snarled the leader of the Rus bitterly.

  Artur Tschistokjow paced his apartment and suddenly turned around.

  ”Estonia has to be conquered in March”, he shouted and banged on the table. “I order, that we mobilize all we got. The operation must be ended within one day, and it must be be successful!”

  “Our men will start to organize the invasion tomorrow. I have already talked to our chapter leaders in Tallinn”, returned Peter.

  “I just hope that the Estonians will finally understand, that they have to break the chains of the World Union to take their nation back”, said Tschistokjow with a hint of impatience and anger.

  Peter Ulljewski nodded and left the room. He began immediately with the preparations for the assault on the Lodge Brothers and their minions in Estonia.

  Frank, Alfred, Sven and many others drove to northern Latvia and supported the local groups of the freedom movement in their propaganda campaigns. They made a few smaller rallies in some villages and distributed countless pamphlets once more.

  At the end of February, about 8000 demonstrators marched through the streets of Tartus and overpowered the local security forces. A few collectivists appeared on that day too, but they ran away quickly, when they saw the troopers of the freedom movement.

  Finally, the invasion of Estonia started. The Belarusian government mobilized all its armed forces and began a large-scale assault on the tiny Baltic country.

  Several thousand armed troopers crossed the Estonian border in the early morning hours and occupied the city of Tartu. Subsequently, the local Rus made a protest march through downtown, while numerous Estonian police officers a
nd thousands of people joined the crowd. There was no resistance at all.

  But in Tallinn, Estonia`s largest city, the situation was different. Police squads and a small GCF force fought in the suburbs against Tschistokjow`s troopers and tried to stop their assault in time. Nevertheless, they had to retreat after a short fire fight and finally fled towards the main administration building in the inner city.

  The leader of the Rus and his men followed them, driving them out of Tallinn at the end. Shortly afterwards, a huge mass of people gathered in front of the administration building and Tschistokjow declared the resignation of the Estonian vassal government under thunderous applause.

  The Estonian policemen did not dare to resist and finally laid down their weapons. All GCF soldiers had meanwhile retreated to Finland and no counterattack followed. This time, the Global Control Force and the Estonian vassal government had been hit between the eyes by Tschistokjow`s well organized lightning attack.

  Notwithstanding the above, the high command of the international forces was busy with more important things and didn`t give much attention to the events in Estonia. The Freedom Movement of the Rus had nevertheless gained a great victory overnight and this time, the Rus had been supported by the Estonian people.

  Frank and his troopers breathed again. Today, there had been no bloodshed in the streets and they were able to celebrate their success in Tallinn without casualties.

  Artur Tschistokjow utilized the resignation of the Estonian sub-governor as good as he could. More than 200000 people celebrated the victory a few days later in Minsk, while the Belarusian president made a mountain out of a molehill.

  Even Akira Mori congratulated the Rus in the name of the Japanese nation. The Belarusian state television and the newspapers reported several days about the successful “attack of the revolution”. And even in Tallinn, thousands of members of the freedom movement celebrated the liberation of Estonia with loud hullaballoo and a lot of pathos.

  Walter Vogel, a man of German heritage who was living in St. Petersburg, became the new governor of Estonia. Furthermore, Estonia was now a member of the newly found Nation Leage of the Rus, an alliance that included the three Baltic countries and Belarus.

  Shortly afterwards, Peter Ulljewski`s DSR units immediately swooped down on the few collectivist groups in Estonia to render them harmless. Now the international media paid them attention and screamed out hysterically. The time when the Rus were ignored or derided seemed to be over, while press, television and radio reported all day long about the uprising in Estonia.

  The newspapers finally called Tschistokjow a “warmonger” and a “psychopath”, demanding immediate political and military reprisals.

  They poured out a torrent of hatred and defamation on the Belarusian president, directing the attention of the world to the newly created Nation Leage of the Rus.

  Malignant television reports accused the leader of the freedom movement of mass murder and war crimes. Even the former sub-governor of Belarus, Medschenko, suddenly emerged again on television. He alleged that Tschistokjow`s men had already executed over 150000 people since the revolution in 2036.

  Ultimately, the World President threatened the Rus on TV and declared that he would never tolerate their “antidemocratic policy”. Soon the international forces would smash Tschistokjow`s terror regime, after they had pacified the other hotspots.

  All in all, the Freedom Movement of the Rus had only conquered a tiny land with ​​barely 1.4 million inhabitants, not much more people than in the German city of Cologne. But nevertheless, this had far-reaching psychological consequences. The people in Belarus and the Baltic countries recognized that the freedom movement was still strong and able to act. So the ranks of the organization filled with thousands of new members.

  Shortly afterwards, the Rus continued their campaigns in Russia and the Ukraine with an increased morale. In Luck, in the northern Ukraine, about 12000 Rus marched through the city and prevailed against the local collectivists. Some smaller rallies, for example in Nowgorod, followed.

  Kohlhaas bit on his tongue and slashed the tape on the side of the parcel with a kitchen knife. He had finally found the time to visit HOK again, and had brought his new Battle Hammer miniatures home. Like a happy little boy, he carefully opened the carton and was totally excited. Then he recognized some of the old miniatures between countless polystyrene chips. Frank smiled broadly.

  “Cool!”, he uttered, laughing happily and holding a small orc of tin in his hands. “A boar rider!”

  Then Frank positioned dozens of little figures on the kitchen table and mumbled to himself, lost in thought. “An orc warlord, an orc shaman, goblins with spears, orcs with cleavers...”

  In Minsk, Frank had bought superglue and a few colors for painting a few days ago. Now he had enough to do, because the orcs were waiting to get ready to fight. But it was necessary to agglutinate and paint them at first.

  After about two hours, Alf came home and found his friend in the kitchen, highly concentrated, with a tiny brush in his hand. Bäumer wondered.

  “What are you doing?”, asked the giant.

  “HOK has bought a Battle Hammer orc horde for me on the Internet. That`s a lot of miniatures, but he will buy even more for me”, said Frank happily, painting a grim-looking troll of tin.

  “What? What is this stuff?” Alf gaped and scratched his beard.

  ”Battle Hammer! Don`t you know it?”, asked Kohlhaas.

  “No! I do not play with small figures. I´m not in the kindergarten”, sneered his roommate.

  “This is no child`s play, but a highly complex strategy game. Just awesome! I have always played it in Berlin”, explained the hobbyist, putting on a solemn face.

  “Now, clear the table, Frank. I want to eat!” Bäumer pushed a bunch of goblins to the side.

  “Be careful! They are freshly painted!”, shouted Kohlhaas excitedly. Then he smiled again.

  “Look at this, Alf! A dragon for my orc warlord. He can ride on it, you know?”

  Alf beheld the winged monster in front of his nose and rolled his eyes.

  “Nice wyrm! A true beauty!””, he only returned, shaking his head.

  Frank did not care if Bäumer liked his orcs or not. Until the middle of the night, he painted his new miniatures and slept only in the morning hours.

  The next day, HOK and Frank met for another tabletop game. This time they played the science-fiction version of Battle Hammer. The portly and slightly eccentric computer freak had decorated a big table with a lot of plastic buildings, hills and other things. Two lovingly painted armies were waiting for the players who were totally excited.

  For the next hours, the two men wanted to test their strategic skills with each other. Frank commanded a horde of alien monsters and HOK played again an army of humans.

  ”The laser guns shoot at your unit with the giant bug!”, said HOK, pointing at a massive tin miniature. Then the plump man diced. “Ha! 6 hits! The giant bug loses four health points! Say good bye to it, Frank. Ha! Ha!”

  “Shit!”, hissed Kohlhaas and removed the giant bug from the table.

  Now it was his turn. Countless smaller models were moved in the direction of HOK`s soldiers. The close combat phase followed, Frank diced. However, on that day, the luck of the dice was again not on his side.

  “Damn! These small crawling creatures are nothing but useless!”, he grumbled.

  “Yes, that`s bad luck, my friend!”, laughed HOK.

  It went on for a while in this manner. Ultimately, the computer scientist defeated his opponent again, and the portly man let out a loud jubilant cry.

  “I have diced only crap...”, declared the loser of the game.

  “How true, Frank!”

  Kohlhaas scratched his chin. “Anyway...”

  “It always makes sense to attack my tanks or my heavy units with your giant bug and your swarm lord”, lectured HOK.

  ”It has definitely been funny. That`s the main thing. The time?”

>   “It`s 18.13 o` clock!”

  Frank perked his eyebrows up. “What? That late?”

  “Yes, you wanted to play a great battle today!”

  “Eh...okay...please buy some more miniatures for me on the Internet. Anything you can get. I`ll give you the money. Well, I have to go now”, said Frank frantically.

  “Do you have something to do?”

  “Yes, I wanted to meet Julia - at 17.30 o`clock. We have planned to go to Steffen`s bistro.”

  “Ups!” HOK waved his massive hands, as if he had burned himself.

  Kohlhaas rushed through the village and reached the house of the Wildens a few minutes later. With a meaningful look, Julia opened the door and cleared her throat.

  ”I`m really sorry, but everything went wrong today. My giant bug was shot in the second round and then HOK...”, stammered Frank in confusion.

  Julia twisted her mouth. “Giant bug?”

  “Yes, the giant bug was the key to my defeat. And also the smaller bug soldiers were just disappointing...”

  “Do you have a plague of insects in your garden?”, asked the young woman and was baffled.

  “No! We have played Battle Hammer. I usually have an orc horde, but today I tried out HOK`s “Hyperspace Termites”. I mean, we have played Space Battle Hammer...”, Kohlhaas tried to explain.

  “And that`s why you have come too late?”, Julia wanted to know.

  “Yes…well…maybe…”

  ”Giant bug? Termites?” The blonde beauty narrowed her eyes to slits. “These things are more important than me?”

  Frank paused. “No, of course not! I`m really sorry, I have just forgotten the time.”

  Julia tapped her forehead at Frank. “Men!”, she moaned.

 

  Fake Crisis