There was a large explosion nearby, but Christine was lucky enough not to have gotten hit by any shrapnel during the blast. However, she heard screams close by. She scrambled up from her hiding place, grabbed her medical kit, and headed toward where the explosion had gone off. A few yards away, in an open area of the field, she found a man lying on the ground. He was still conscious, but writhing in agony, blood pouring from his face. His face was the only part of him that was injured it seemed, but badly so. When Christine approached, he tried to keep quiet, but was half out of his mind in pain, emitting strangled half shrieks and gurgles periodically. Christine saw his German uniform, and was going to run back to safety and leave him. But as she began to turn from him, the man grabbed the hem of her uniform and started gurgling out broken phrases in perfect French.
"Spy, I'm a French spy! Please! The commanding officer knows…knows…" he gurgled, spit up blood, and then gasped for control. "My codename is Le Fantôme, Le Fa –" he was overcome by pain, and couldn't speak any more.
Every Frenchman on the western front knew about the ruthless spy Le Fantôme. There were rumors as to what he looked like, but few ever saw him; therefore none were correct. He was known for strangling his victims, but never with his hands. He always used some sort of wire, to half strangle, half decapitate his victims. However, The Phantom was not unaccustomed to shooting a person when needed either, but he never used a weapon of his own. What many found most frightening was that no matter the methods used, there were never any fingerprints at the scenes of the killings. All in all, the French government was extremely thankful that he was on their side, and not the enemy's.
The injured man who lay at Christine's feet, choking on his blood, was the last image Christine could have of the so called Phantom; but there was no time to debate. Despite the young medic's better judgement, Christine picked up the wounded spy and slung one of his arms around her shoulders and supported him by the waist. "Listen! Listen to me!" she hissed. "You can walk, it's just your face. Walk!" At first stumbling, but then making their way swiftly along the field, the medic and the spy made it to safety relatively unscathed.
Once away from direct French and German fire, Christine cleaned the blood off of the man's face (or what was left of it), stopped as much of the bleeding as she could, and bandaged him up.
Needing less coaxing this time, Christine and The Phantom stumbled back to where the commanding officer was. When others saw the German uniform the injured man was wearing, the atmosphere changed to anger, but they finally reached their commander, who began to scold the young nurse, they were interrupted by the slurred words of the injured man. They stopped, and upon hearing him repeat what they realized was a numbered code, the commanding officer turned white.
"E-Excuse me, yes, I will call right away. Please excuse my rudeness," the commander said. He rushed off to a radio, and stayed there for several minutes. He returned, and in a rush, announced that the man, now confirmed as The Phantom, was ushered off to a nearby hospital. Christine asked her superiors if she needed to stay or if she needed to go with the spy. Her commanding officers gave her orders to go with him, along with two other men who would be on guard at the hospital. The only other instruction she was given was to refer to him as 'Erik.', and to speak to no one, not even the guards, about the events of that night.
Once the arrived at the hospital, Erik was ushered into surgery. Christine had been told to wait by an empty bed, and told further that her duty to change his bandages and look after him specifically, and no one else. She was the only one in the hospital who knew his identity, and the military higher-ups intended to keep it that way.
He woke up late the next day. His face was heavily bandaged, his eyes and mouth visible. He tensed for a moment, but upon looking at Christine, relaxed. Christine noted his eyes were a nondescript blue, but his gaze sharp and cat like.
"Are you the nurse from the front?" he asked.
Christine paused. "Yes. My name is Christine Daae. I will be taking care of you until further notice." She gave him a look that said she also knew who he was, but not to say anything.
The spy understood, and said very carefully. "I'm afraid I don't remember my name. Do you know what my name is?"
Christine responded smoothly. "The report says that your name is Erik, but we're unsure of your last name at this time."
Erik nodded, and kept a mental note on his current name. He paused. He knew why he was injured. He was found out, and was given the choice to walk towards a gun or towards the French line in his German uniform, with no weapons. He chose the latter, hoping he would survive. His choice saved him, but at what cost, he didn't know. He had little idea what his injury is, except that his face hurt, and he couldn't see out of one eye.
"What happened?" he asked, weakly bringing a thin hand towards his bandaged face.
Christine grabbed his hand gently. "Don't touch it. You were hit in the face by shrapnel."
"Give me specifics," he asked sternly.
Christine stopped, and hesitant to tell him.
"Tell me," his voice no more than a whisper.
She took a breath, and bluntly stated, "There is heavy scarring, especially under your right cheekbone, where you are missing a good amount of tissue. Your nostrils and a part of your nasal septum are gone, though you will still be able breath fine. There is fine scarring around the rest of your face. You're blind in one eye, but that may only be temporary. We're unsure yet." She looked up at him and said quietly, "I'm sorry."
Erik was silent for a moment. His only response was, "I see." He was quiet again after that. Christine thought he'd fallen asleep, until she looked and saw his shoulders shaking, one hand grasping the bed sheet. She heard a small sob and realized he was crying.
Christine leaned towards him. "Are you in pain? Can I bring you anything?"
Erik quietly choked out, "No. I'm fine."
The fiercest spy in France was crying, and all Christine could do was hold his hand.