Wampyr. Hier. As Baumann looked out across the expanse of snow, watching the Soviet guards make their rounds at the prison hospital where the Cossacks had led him, his escape from the Russians seemed as if it had happened a thousand years ago. He had learned a great deal since then. He watched the camp's inmates for the better part of a day, counting them as they moved about, and decided that there were no more than a dozen guards and perhaps as many as thirty prisoners.None of the men he had seen looked like Kluge, but that didn't mean he wasn't there. If, as the Cossacks insisted, the Russians did have a wampyr in there, it almost had to be Kluge. To find out for certain, he would have to go in. In addition to the guards, there would be hospital staff. He couldn't tell how many there were of those, but it didn't really matter anyway. Civilians were not likely to give him any trouble, and he had already spotted a means of wreaking havoc when he was ready.His Cossacks moved on, with a promise to rejoin him the following afternoon at the place where they had camped the night before.
