"Woo..."
The sharp, piercing alarm echoed over the entire city. People walking along the streets instinctively looked up at the sky, but quickly returned their gaze to their previous activities.
For the past week, such alarms had sounded almost daily, yet there had been no German bombings. Instead, countless leaflets were dropped, and the citizens of Lviv had long grown accustomed to this routine.
With the frequent alarms, the true situation of the war became known to everyone—a situation that was enough to plunge every Pole into despair: In the border battles, the defensive lines formed by six Polish army groups, totaling eight hundred thousand soldiers, were breached by the Germans in just a few hours. Over the following two days, hundreds of thousands of Polish troops were surrounded and annihilated in a chaotic retreat.
There could be no more shameful collapse than this. Millions of Polish soldiers, armed only with swords and lances, launched suicidal charges against German tanks, leaving their bodies strewn along the advancing paths. The so-called modern warplanes never even took off; they were destroyed on the airport runways. The supposedly sturdy permanent fortifications crumbled like paper shells before the German armored units.
The so-called third military power in Europe, apart from Britain and France, had thus shamefully revealed its true weakness, like a shorn piglet stripped of its disguise, feeble and exposed before the world.
In the district of Halychiv, Viktor, disguised with a large beard, walked along the cobblestone-paved streets. By his side was Sophia, wearing a black dress, always impeccably dressed, fully fitting her socialite persona. Indeed, in Lviv, Sophia openly portrayed herself as a socialite mingling with the so-called upper echelons, specializing in matchmaking for business owners and celebrities, and earning commissions from it.
When the alarm sounded, Viktor subconsciously moved closer to the roadside, almost walking along the wall as he continued forward.
Lviv had been under military lockdown for a week. No one could come and go freely, so the citizens were unaware of the current war situation. However, this lockdown was clearly ineffective for Viktor. He knew that the Germans had already advanced to the outskirts of Lviv. The "Carpathian" army group, tasked with defending Lviv, had withdrawn to Romania under Fabrycy's command without firing a shot, effectively abandoning Lviv. Currently, the city's defense relied on a small regular army and a large number of militias and police who knew little of war.
Apart from the Germans to the west, Soviet troops from four infantry divisions were speeding towards Lviv from the southeast. They encountered minimal resistance along the way, making their advance seem like a leisurely journey.
Viktor's concern now was no longer about whether the Poles would damage the city's infrastructure before withdrawing, but rather about the extensive destruction the Germans might wreak upon occupying the city. After all, according to the agreements between the Soviet Union and Germany, Lviv was to be handed over to the Soviet side.
The streets were bustling with people—wealthy individuals hurriedly escaping, ordinary citizens attempting to hoard supplies, and opportunistic thugs looking to take advantage of the chaos. Everyone ignored the incessant blaring of the alarm, despite its piercing sound.
The first shell exploded at the rooftop of a church in an alley off the street. The enormous blast and the billowing smoke stunned everyone. The entire street fell into an eerie silence; there were no screams, no frantic fleeing—just people staring in shock at the collapsing church engulfed in smoke.
At the moment of the explosion, Viktor had a bad feeling. Though not a military man by training, he had organized numerous anti-bandit operations and collaborated frequently with border guards. The shell that directly brought down the entire church was clearly not from an ordinary small-caliber artillery but likely from a heavy-caliber howitzer.
"Boom!"
Another explosion followed, much closer this time. It struck the corner of a four-story building across the street from where Viktor stood, shaking the entire street. Within a radius of about ten meters from the blast, everyone was affected: some were directly maimed, their limbs torn apart; others were knocked down, writhing in agony.
Instantly, chaos erupted on the entire street. People screamed and fled in all directions, desperately trying to get as far away as possible.
Viktor crouched at the corner of a building, shielding Sophia behind him. He calmly observed the panicked crowd scrambling around. In such moments, panicked running was not a wise choice. It was better to move away from prominent landmarks, find a sturdy building, and take cover facing away from the direction of incoming fire—this offered the highest chance of survival.
The intermittent shelling lasted less than twenty minutes. Soon, everything around fell silent. The street was now a scene of devastation; what was considered quiet was relative. Injured people lay scattered, some next to lifeless bodies, children sat on the ground crying loudly for their lost parents. Before the horrors of war, everyone was fragile.
"The Germans are about to enter the city," Viktor said, rubbing Sophia's shoulder to calm her evident nervousness. "We must immediately incite a revolt, seize all vital facilities before the Germans occupy them. Otherwise, they might destroy everything."
Sophia, clearly shaken by the brutality she had witnessed, said hesitantly, "But we haven't received permission from our superiors."
"There's no time left," Viktor stood up decisively. "We need to issue the orders now. I'll take full responsibility."
"Alright," Sophia nodded, "As soon as we're back at the base, I'll relay your orders to everyone."
They still had a considerable distance to cover from their current location to the agreed-upon base. It would take at least ten minutes to walk there, and the journey ahead was clearly not going to be easy.
In less than twenty minutes of shelling by the Germans, Lviv's confidence was shattered. With each shell that fell, the city's order collapsed entirely. The Germans had not even entered yet, and the city had already become a playground for rioters. Open looting and lawlessness prevailed.
Dreadful looting and rape scenes played out across the entire city. In just over ten minutes of travel, Viktor had emptied two magazines, finally bringing the heavily adorned Sophia back to their base. Along the way, there were indeed many who had designs on her.
Despite Viktor's meticulous arrangements under the "Lviv Plan," so far none of the facilities slated for protection had suffered any damage. However, the unplanned arrival of the Soviet attack forces left them in a very passive position compared to the Germans who were advancing.
According to the agreement signed by both the Soviet Union and Germany, each side's occupation of Poland was divided by the Curzon Line. Moscow wanted back the lands forcibly ceded to Poland in the Riga Treaty, and Lviv was just east of the Curzon Line. However, while the Germans might comply with the agreement and hand Lviv over to the Soviets, the city's industrial facilities were not protected under the agreement. No one could guarantee that the Germans wouldn't dismantle Lviv, leaving just an empty shell for the Soviets.
To prevent the worst-case scenario, Viktor had to hastily revise the plan. He ordered Kulkov to immediately initiate a revolt, seizing the city's main thoroughfares and industrial facilities to prevent large-scale destruction by the German troops after their entry into the city.
Due to the sudden change in plans, Viktor only managed to send a telegram to Proskurov, but without waiting for a reply, he directly issued orders to launch an armed revolt across the entire city.
...
In front of the dressing mirror, Viktor leisurely adjusted the buttons on his white undershirt, his gaze stealing glimpses of Sophia behind him.
By now, Sophia had cut off her wavy hair, leaving it in a short bob just above her shoulders. She stood to the side not far from Viktor, dressed only in a white lace-trimmed shorts, leaving her body bare.
As Viktor peeked at the woman's ample and round breasts through the mirror, he couldn't help but feel a surge of desire. However, he knew very well that now was not the time for such thoughts, and she certainly wasn't the right target.
Forcing himself to avert his gaze, Viktor quickly buttoned up his undershirt and reached for his pristine uniform nearby. The sporadic gunfire outside seemed to emphasize the urgency of time.
Soon, the mirror reflected the image of a State Security Lieutenant of the People's Commissariat for Internal Affairs, with a blue military cap on his head, dressed in a khaki-green uniform jacket, blue military trousers, and high-top leather military boots. Viktor would use this appearance to negotiate with the Germans who might enter the city at any moment, justifiably informing them that Lviv was now Soviet territory.
Similarly reflected in the mirror, Sophia had also donned her military uniform. Unlike Viktor, her hat was a blue sailor cap, and she wore a blue knee-length skirt with slightly shorter high-top boots than the men's version. Surprisingly, her rank was that of a Sub-Lieutenant.
To Viktor, compared to those intricately styled dresses, this military uniform clearly suited Sophia better. Its form-fitting design not only accentuated her graceful figure but also added a touch of heroic spirit.
"Let's go. We're heading to Gorodok," Viktor said, adjusting his cap and turning to the somewhat excited Sophia.
Gorodok district was the unavoidable path for the German entry into the Lviv city center.