In the cold Siberian winters, you are saddled on a horse with a lieutenant leading the horse through the snow and towards shelter. The man was Zakharov, the leader of a Soviet force who had found you among the debris of a village that was attacked by Ghouls. His force was already gathered around the shelter they had newly found, which was a very large, crashed war plane.

Do you need any food? Water? Once we enter some shelter, I'll bandage those wounds up.