"You hold in your hands the future of the world."
-Raymond Poincare
The cigarette burned slowly, allowing Diarmuid to savor the taste of the smoke as it filled his lungs and made his head grow slightly hazy with the delicious feeling of relaxation washing over his entire body. These days, he would definitely take any form of respite that could be afforded.
As soon as the stick was burned to the nub, he quickly reached for another one in the box that he always kept in his right shirt pocket. He had never thought that he would get addicted to smoking, but then again, he never expected to be serving out his early twenties as an enlisted soldier involved in the largest war the world had ever known. When he thought of it that way, suddenly, the smoking didn't seem like much of a fuss.
"Captain Duibhne?" An older man with a shaved head and a neatly arranged uniform asked, glancing at the clipboard in his hands. He had the look of a weathered soldier, who had probably already fought in the First World War, and now found himself involved in the Second, whether or not he wanted to be there. Diarmuid supposed that applied to a large majority of the high brass now. Everyone was properly sick of the war, himself included. And that was exactly why he found himself sitting in a chair in the waiting room of the British High Command.
"Yes sir. Captain Diarmuid ua Duibhne here." He said, standing up from his seat and saluting the higher ranked man, subtly flicking away his spent cigarette.
"At ease, Captain." The man waved off his salute, motioning for Diarmuid to follow him.
The two walked down the corridor, which led to a few smaller rooms branching off to the side, as well as what Diarmuid assumed to be the heart of the Command Center, behind a set of heavy wooden double doors. He had never set foot inside the place before today, and he was taking every opportunity to do a bit of sight seeing.
"Might I ask, sir, about the reason for me being called here? I wasn't exactly well informed by my superiors before they stuck me on a plane and flew me over." Diarmuid asked as the man paused in front of the double doors, pushing them open to reveal an open room, with the only noticeable furniture being a desk in the center of the room that was occupied by a man that Diarmuid knew immediately to be Bernard Montgomery by the virtue of his position.
"You'll find out soon enough." His escort said, closing the doors behind Diarmuid, so that only he and Montgomery were in the room. The officer was busy signing off a letter as of present, but once his finished with his task, he placed it in an appropriate pile and sat up in his seat to stare at Diarmuid.
"Captain Diarmuid ua Duibhne." He introduced himself, stiffening his back and performing a salute.
"At ease, Captain." Montgomery said, reaching across his desk to pick up a folder that he flipped open and began leafing through slowly, occasionally looking up at Diarmuid, as if he were trying to confirm something.
"It says here that you are fluent in German. Care to explain how an Irishman like yourself would come to speak German? Seems a bit odd." Montgomery asked after a few minutes of stifling silence. It was clear from the man's tone that he was suspicious of Diarmuid.
Diarmuid flinched, not really expecting the question. But nonetheless, he took a breath and began, "Well, sir, it's probably not as interesting as you would have hoped. I was sweet on a German girl who didn't speak a word of English, so I was forced to pick it up while I was courting her."
"And?" Montgomery asked pointedly.
"And?" Diarmuid repeated, thoroughly confused as to what Montgomery wanted to know.
Montgomery arched an eyebrow, "Well, don't be humble. Tell me, what happened to the girl?"
"Things didn't work out. She's been married to another man for the last few years now." Diarmuid replied after a slight pause.
Montgomery nodded, seemingly satiated with his answer, "All right. That's all I needed to know. Your superiors speak highly of your poise under pressure, which is exactly what I'm looking for. I'm surprised that we got the Irish to let go of you."
Diarmuid cleared his throat, "If you don't mind me asking, what exactly did you call me in for? I haven't been told anything."
"I'm creating a special unit of about five soldiers, and I want you to be a part of it." Montgomery replied.
"And what exactly would this special unit be doing?" Diarmuid asked.
"I need a unit that will create chaos behind enemy lines, in order to soften up the Nazis before we proceed with Operation Overlord. That means that you'll be dropped into occupied France, with no communications with the regular forces. Your only goal will be to cause as much damage as you possibly can with five men, and distract the Nazis while we make preparations to take back France." Montgomery grimaced slightly as he continued, "I won't sugarcoat it. It'll be extremely dangerous, and I can't guarantee that you'll make it out alive. But you're exactly the kind of soldier we're looking for to round out this unit, and the Allied cause could really use your contribution."
Diarmuid nodded.
"I didn't join this war without knowing the dangers. So, where do I sign up?"
Gilgamesh removed his hat, allowing his locks of blonde hair to spill out over his face. Sweeping it back with his free hand, he quickly replaced his hat over his hair, which was now completely out of his vision.
"Sir, the town has been swept. We haven't found any signs of Jews or Allied soldiers hiding out here." An Arabic man with a well groomed beard and a hard expression informed him with a perfect salute, causing some of the medals pinned to his SS uniform to jingle.
"Good work, Hassan. I trust your work. However, I just need to confirm one thing." Gilgamesh replied, "We can't have Tokiomi thinking that we aren't doing our jobs, after all."
"I'll come with you." A large man who threatened to burst out of his uniform due to the sheer amount of muscle packed onto his six foot frame said, following Gilgamesh into the small congregation of buildings that was currently being searched by a small squad of SS troops, identified by the insignia on their uniforms.
"Feel free, Kirei. I don't intend to sully my hand with the blood of common rabble." Gilgamesh replied as he stopped in front of one house in particular.
He gently rapped on the door, waiting patiently as a set of footsteps shuffled closer. After a few moments, the door opened slightly to reveal the face of an older man, eyes darting around suspiciously.
"Our house was already searched. We have nothing to interest you." He said quickly, attempting to close the door, but Kirei was faster, putting a hand on the door with lightning speed to prevent it from closing fully.
"If it's all the same, I would like to speak with you for a moment." Gilgamesh said warmly with a wolf's grin, although the man next to him did not share his smile.
"O-of course." The man said, allowing Kirei to fully open the door and stepping aside so that Gilgamesh and Kirei could enter.
"A humble little home you have here." Gilgamesh remarked with a hint of disdain in his voice, as Kirei slammed the door behind him closed.
"Well, it's not much, but we get by." The old man said, taking a seat at the table in the middle of the room they had stepped into.
"Ah, is it not common courtesy to offer guests something to drink? Or is that simply a German custom?" Gilgamesh asked as he joined the man, Kirei preferring to stay standing.
The color drained from the man's face and he stood up from his seat, "Oh, I'm sorry, I'll fetch something right away."
"There's no need. I'm simply teasing you." Gilgamesh said, gesturing for the man to sit down once more, which he did.
Gilgamesh removed his hat and placed it on the table before he placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward, "Now then, let's get down to business."
"Yes, let's." The man answered timidly, clearly afraid of the two men before him.
"Now, do you know who I am?" Gilgamesh asked.
The man nodded, "Yes."
"Who am I?"
The man gulped before answering, "You are Major Gilgamesh of the SS."
"And who is my companion?" He asked, nodding to the man standing to his side.
"That is Captain Kotomine." The man replied nervously.
Gilgamesh smiled, "Then, you are familiar with our work, I assume?"
"Yes. You two are famous for collecting trophies from your victims." The man said.
Gilgamesh leaned back in his seat, completely at ease. However, the same could not be said for the villager, who was now sweating in his seat, anticipating Gilgamesh's next words. To be honest, Gilgamesh relished the moment. It was one of the few joys that he found in the admittedly mundane work of hunting Jews. It tended to add a little flavor.
"Now, is there something you want to tell us? I'm sure that Captain Kotomine would love nothing more than to tear your house apart looking for the British soldier that you are hiding in your house, but if you could save us the trouble or searching for him, I can promise you that no harm will come to you or your family. You have my word."
Gilgamesh grinned. He knew that the man would crack. It was simply a matter of when. He had done this dance several times before, and each time, he got what he wanted. The French didn't have any special interest in keeping Allied soldiers alive over their own families, and it proved itself time and time again.
"He's hiding in the closet in my bedroom." The man admitted, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"Thank you for your cooperation." Gilgamesh said before he nodded to Kirei.
Kirei walked past the table and towards the door of the man's bedroom. He went to turn the door handle, but found that it was locked. Not wasting any time, he picked his leg up and kicked forward, bringing down the entire door, only to be met by an empty room.
His eyes immediately went to the open closet, and then to the open window , quickly coming to the conclusion that the soldier had slipped out during their conversation.
"He's gone." Kirei yelled to Gilgamesh, who nodded and stood up from his seat.
"Let him run. He won't last long. Come on, we don't have time to deal with peons like that. We have two more towns to sweep through today."
"I want you to meet the team that you'll dropping into France with." Montgomery yelled at Diarmuid over the deafening roar of aircraft as they walked through a bustling airfield, currently busy with several incoming flights. Diarmuid had heard about some of the relative success that the Royal Air Force was experiencing recently, and the large number of aircraft returning to be refueled and to be repaired seemed to be an indication of that.
"It's right up ahead. The last hanger on the left." Montgomery said, pointing his finger at their destination, which was a hanger that seemed to be built separately from the others and stood off farther down the landing strip than any other building.
Once they finally reached the open hanger, Diarmuid had a chance to look inside, only to see a black haired man smoking a cigarette, his blank eyes darting up at him in a vague look of interest. Reluctantly, the man dropped his spent stick to the ground before grinding it into the ground with the heel of his black combat boots.
"Hey there! You must be the new guy, right?" A large man with spiky red hair and a large grin said warmly as he walked up to Diarmuid, "Name's Iskander, and I'm going to be in charge of demolitions for the squad. Basically, if something's in our way, it's my job to get rid of it."
"Specialist Iskander, I'll let you introduce him to everyone else." Montgomery said with a nod, whirling around to leave the hanger and deal with his other duties.
"All right, well, meet our Commanding Officer, Emiya Kiritsugu, also known as the SS killer. He was born into German nobility, but he didn't believe in the Nazi Party and used his position to get close to and to kill 13 SS officers. You know, pretty brutal stuff. He's brilliant with tactics and stuff of that nature. Trust me, he's pulled my ass out of some tough situations before." Iskander said, gesturing to the black haired man.
"Sir, I checked the inventory, and everything seems to be in order, although we do seem to have an extra set of equipment…" A woman with short black hair read off of a clipboard, just noticing the new presence in the hanger.
"Hey there, Maiya." Iskander greeted before he turned his attention back to Diarmuid, "That's Maiya. She came with Captain Kiritsugu when we got him out of Germany. She's all business though, so don't get in her way when she's got something to do."
"Iskander, will you get back here? I can't reach the top shelf. I need the wrench up there." A skinny young man with medium length black hair yelled, evidently irritated by his tone.
"Sure thing!" Iskander replied, trotting over to a makeshift workbench, where the man was working on what looked like an explosive device of some sort.
"By the way, this is Waver Velvet, our combat engineer." Iskander said as he grabbed the requested tool and handed it to Waver, who muttered a word of thanks and went to back to work, only slightly acknowledging Diarmuid.
"And finally, we have our marksman, Arturia Pendragon." Iskander added, pointing to a blonde girl who was sitting by herself, busy cleaning off a rifle with a rag, "She's not one for making friends, but she's the best at what she does. That's why they call her the Saber."
"Quite a cast of characters we have here." Diarmuid chuckled.
Iskander laughed, "Well, maybe that's why we're the ones who were chosen for this job. I mean, no sane person would actually volunteer for this, would they?"
"But I did." Diarmuid whispered softly to himself, taking one last glance at the blonde before he stopped himself. He was here to help end a war, and for no other reason. Anything else would have to wait.
Just an idea that popped up in my head. If anyone is interested in reading more, please, let me know in the form of a PM or review. I don't want to work on something that doesn't interest people, so please, let me know what you think.
I was always intrigued by the idea of the various Servants and Masters interacting with each other in new circumstances, and I think that World War II offers the perfect kind of setting to fully utilize every important character in new roles that fit their characters, more or less.
Thanks for reading!