Kovalevsky was met with silence as he entered the small room.  Both officers were watching him from their places at the table.  The lieutenant let the metal door close behind him and then took a few steps forward before he stopped in front of the table.  He straightened himself out, raised his hand to his temple and saluted, awaiting a reaction. 

The colonel - Kuznetsov his surname - did not seem to be in a hurry.  He pulled a cigarette out of the packet which lie on the table, put in between his lips and then reached for the large silver lighter.  His movements were slow and relaxed, as if he did not even notice the man saluting him.  But of course - it was probably his intent.  With a loud click he lit the cigarette, put down the lighter and took a deep puff.  A small cloud of smoke emerged from his mouth and rose towards the electrical lamps above the table.  The heavy smell of tobacco in the room made Kovalevsky ache for a cigarette himself.  But he patiently waited, standing still despite the movements of the quickly moving train wagon. 

The commanders room was brightly lit, and more importantly, warm.  It was a pleasant change from the bitter cold outside of the metal walls of the wagon.  Several electric lamps were mounted on the ceiling, and they made Kovalevsky's eyes hurt.  Had had still not had time to adjust to it after the darkness outside.  In here it was almost impossible to know if it was night or day, the thin window slits along the bare walls were covered by iron shutters. A door led deeper into the wagon, to the communications room and the commanding officers quarters. 

The colonel was an older man, probably somewhere in his late fifties.  He was of average height but thinly built, not really the archetype of an officer.  His hair and eyes were gray, the nose reminiscent of a hawks beak and with a small, well trimmed moustache above the thin lips. Kuznetsov was dressed in a simple grey field uniform, the only thing separating him from his subordinates the markings on his shoulder straps.   He took another long puff and then crossed his hands on the table, as if he was now prepared to take notice of the lieutenant who was still clad in a heavy snowsuit. 

"Lieutenant." He said, nothing in his voice betraying his mood or thoughts. 

"Comrade colonel." Answered Kovalevsky and lowered his hand.  He fixated his eyes on the digital clock hanging on the opposite wall.  It was 02.05 in the morning. 

"Report your mission."

Kovalevsky took a deep breath and started talking with the monotonous and factual voice that was to be used at such instances.

"At the captains orders I was dispatched to set up a lookout deeper into the city.  I took my men to a high-rise a few blocks from the station, climbed onto the top and set up an observation post.  We saw nothing of importance.  When the order came we descended to ground level and departed for the station.  Along the way we were approached by a group of civilians..."

"Ah yes.  Civilians." Said the colonel, interrupting him.  Kovalevsky closed his mouth and waited for the commander to continue.  There was a short pause as Kuznetsov took another puff on his cigarette and shook it above the small ashtray standing on the table next to him.  "Why did you bring them?"

"I asked for permission from the captain Babin, comrade colonel.  He allowed it."

Kovalevsky quickly glanced at the other officers sitting at the table and looking at him.  Captain Babin was the archetype of a Russian officer of the post-soviet era - large and bulking with a noticeably protruding belly, barley contained by the broad leather belt, with a broad reddish face and a bald head to go with it.  He had a solemn frown on his face, making the busy eyebrows almost connect and deep wrinkles appearing around his mouth and on the forehead.  Babin remained silent, the small eyes fixed on Kovalevsky. 

"I know what Babin said." The colonel put the cigarette to his lips again. "What interests me is why you acted as you did."

"Excuse me, but I don't follow, colonel."  Kovalevsky felt uncomfortably warm in his clothes, and mixed with the overall tiredness it made his thoughts slow and clumsy.

"You were ordered to return to the train at speed, as a giant had been spotted by one of the other scout teams.  But you and your team slowed down, which in turn put the entire unit under unnecessary threat."

"The civilians, they were slow and needed help.  There was elderly and children with them."

The colonel did not shake his head or frown, he just stared, right at Kovalevsky's face.

"If the situation would have been entirely secure" he slowly said. "Such an action would have been forgivable.  But not when it can endanger the entire expedition.  Do you realize that, lieutenant?"

"Yes, comrade colonel."

"What am I supposed to do with nine civilians, lieutenant?" the colonel reclined against the back of his seat.

Kovalevsky hesitated for a moment.

"I don't know, comrade colonel."

"I don't know either."

Kuznetsov threw the butt of the cigarette into the ashtray and took out a new one out of the packet.  He sighed as he sparked a flame in the lighter. 

"Our orders is to avoid civilians as far as possible.  You know that more than well, I am sure.  We are not on a humanitarian mission.

"That I know.  But comrade colonel, were we just to leave them there?"

"Yes." Was the short and blunt answer. "Stopping to aid them" the colonel pointed the cigarette at Kovalevsky "Was a serious break of regulations."

Kuznetsov lit the cigarette and put it to his lips. 

"It is not your duty to try and rescue anyone, lieutenant.  You are to follow orders.  I will not tolerate any transgressions in matters concerning the safety of this train and those on board.  Is that understood?" there was a hint of steel in his voice as he spoke.

"Yes, comrade colonel.  That is understood."

"Good."

The colonel put down the lighter on the table and a moment of silence fell over the room, only interrupted by the rhythmical thumping of the train wheels against the rails. 

"We will have to find some place for the civilians." Kuznetsov's voice was calmer now, more practical. "I won't have them running around as they please.  That will be on your shoulders, lieutenant."

"Yes, comrade colonel."

"Despite this... incident..." the colonel grimaced, as if the thought was unpleasant. "The stop was a success.  We managed to fill our tanks with fuel from the reserves at the station, and it should last us long and well.  Of course, there is not much left at the station now, but that is of lesser importance."

"Comrade colonel, may I ask a question?"

Kuznetsov raised an eyebrow but nodded in approval.

"Speak."

"The giantess, how close was she?"

Something reminiscent of a smile spread on the colonels thin lips.

"Are you worried?"

"No, just curiosity."

"Not too close.  It seems that she did not spot us, at least if the lookout is to be believed.  Be thankful for that."

Kuznetsov straightened out in his chair and put down his hands on the table.  Kovalevsky noticed how tired his face was.

"Enough." Said the colonel. "There is nothing more for tonight, lieutenant.  You can go.  You and the other officers are called to a meeting tomorrow after breakfast, at 12.  Dismissed."

"Yes, comrade colonel."

Feeling warm and incredibly tired, Kovalevsky saluted the colonel and captain, turned around and left. 

The train kept thundering through the night.