Varga pressed his bleeding hand against the frozen brick wall of the Lexington Avenue alleyway and dragged freezing oxygen into his burning lungs. He could still hear the deafening c***k of the hypersonic railguns tearing his armored division apart in the plaza behind them. The winter coat he wore as a symbol of his supreme authority was torn and stained with thick black soot.
He looked back at the four surviving soldiers who followed him into the dark maze of the city. The men refused to make eye contact with their commander. They clutched their rifles and cast terrified glances over their shoulders toward the roaring fire consuming their tanks.
Varga recognized the panic radiating from his infantry. He spent years cultivating an image of invincibility to keep the surviving population i
