Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.

The Sound of My Voice

By Greenlips24

PART ONE

CHAPTER ONE

2005 – Operation Herrick - Codename for all British operations in Afghanistan.

Almost at the end of his tour of duty in Afghanistan, his brother Thomas was killed in action.

The boy was only twenty one years old, six years his junior. Thomas had followed Athos into the Army just two years prior, which had surprised Athos initially, as his brother had not shown any interest in following the family tradition. But Thomas always seemed to sail in his older brother's wake, so perhaps it shouldn't have surprised him.

Now, five months later, the guilt was biting into his bones as he stood outside his commanding officer's room. But Athos was good at neutralising his emotions.

He had been told that quite a few times.

He was also good at self medicating.

The door opened and he was called in. He straightened up and walked to the desk, snapping to attention. Fortunately, he had anticipated the conversation he was now having with his CO, so was prepared, if not yet decided.

"Don't give me the death stare, de la Fere, no-one will blame you if you don't sign on for another tour. It's only been a few months since your brother was killed. I am at least obliged to offer you the choice and the opportunity to discuss it. I'll leave it with you. Let me know what you decide.

Dismissed."

Athos snapped a perfect salute,

"Sir," he said.

Turning on his heel, he swiftly took his leave.

Once outside, he deflated, and headed back to his quarters.

oOo

Back in his room, he lay on his bed staring bleakly at the ceiling.

As Captain of 1st Battalion of the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers, Athos had felt it was his duty to remain with his men when his brother died. The Regiment's role was Armoured Infantry and their motto was French: "Honi soit qui mal y pense" "Evil be to him who evil thinks." One of their nicknames was Lord Wellington's Bodyguards. Tradition and duty. Two words that were very familiar to him.

He hadn't even spared the time to fly back to the UK with his brother's body for the family funeral. He knew his father, had he still been alive, would have understood his decision, because he would have expected it. Coming from a long line of soldiers, his father had always known where duty lay.

He was acutely aware that at some point, he would regret the decision not to make that final journey with his brother, but for now he was on automatic pilot. He pushed it to the back of his mind, choosing to focus on his responsibilities. He was, after all, cushioned from uncomfortable family dynamics by his lifelong training at the hands of his heartless father.

He hoped he wasn't entirely heartless as a result.

He knew his Company couldn't afford to lose another man. The last two months had been particularly harrowing as their losses, through both injury and death, had been increasing. But he also knew that he was beginning to waiver. He could walk away, having done his tour, and his duty. If Afghanistan had taught him anything, it was that life was precious.

With his not inconsiderable qualifications in psychology, Athos made a good leader.

He had joined the Army through disillusion with the way his life was going. His father had been a high ranking Army man, as had his grandfather. It was assumed that Athos would follow, and although he had not intended to, the pull of his genes was too strong, it seemed.

So Athos had taken his finals, completed his Masters, put the casework for his PhD in storage and headed to the Army recruitment office to be fast tracked to officer status. With a flourish of his very distinctive name, he signed away his next five years.

And then 9/11 had happened and he had found himself on the other side of the world, in a very inhospitable place.

oOo

Now, he was at a crossroads, and the decision about his future weighed heavily upon him.

Events however, were about to overtake him.

Within a few days of the conversation with his CO, they were put on alert to assist in clearing out the town of Musa Qala in Helmand Province as a few of the Taliban were digging in. Even now, specialist bomb disposal teams were sweeping the town for ied's and their Company would be following within a few days to clear out the remaining fighters and make the town safe. It wasn't expected to be a long mission, perhaps a few days. He would have to think about his future when this mission was completed.

oOo

Athos was just completing some of the unremitting paperwork that came with his Captaincy when there was a knock at the door.

"Come," he said, stowing the paperwork in his desk drawer, glad of the reprieve.

"Permission to enter Captain," came the familiar voice, and Athos smiled, all tension draining away.

"Permission granted 2nd Lt. Du Vallon," he said, standing to greet the big man, now filling the doorway.

If anything made this tour tolerable, it was Porthos. They had clicked during their first week in Helmand, which had surprised both of them as they were from entirely different backgrounds. Porthos had joined the Fusiliers at eighteen, escaping the grinding poverty he had grown up in on the sprawling estates in London.

The loneliness Athos had felt growing up perhaps led to a bond between them, which had only grown in the past year. Porthos loved Army life and easily made friends. He had been wary of Athos when he had first taken command of their company, but had seen how the Captain had moved around his men, quietly confident in his leadership. After several missions, Porthos seemed to gravitate toward him, and eventually, Athos was sure that Porthos had his back. And vice versa.

So Athos was disappointed to learn that Porthos would not be accompanying him on their mission to Musa Qala.

"Just changed duty with Ben Elmer; they want me to train up the new recruits. Tried to get out of it, but no go."

The new recruits were sorely needed, but Porthos looked genuinely disappointed to be missing what he called "Talibanishing."

"Ok, well, I will miss you my friend, but Ben is a worthy substitute," Athos said.

"And then, we both have some decisions to make, I hear," Athos added, with a rare smile.

Porthos was in the same position as Athos; he also had to decide whether he was going to commit further years to the Infantry. Normally, it would not be a problem, but Porthos had just received an incredible letter from home. He had received an inheritance from the father he had never known, and it included a property. So his options were suddenly wide open.

In the end though, Athos did not have to make a decision.

It was made for him.

oOo

Four Days Later: Musa Qala

Following ferocious fighting in the previous days, when Athos and his Company arrived they met with small pockets of resistance, but not as much as expected.

Ben Elmer had proved his worth, as Athos had expected.

Athos was amazed at how life seemed to be carrying on; the villagers seemed somewhat immune to what was happening around them. The majority of Taliban fighters had now been driven out of the village and surrounding area and life was returning to what passed as "normal" around here.

Taking a quick cautious look through the doorway of the small brick house, Athos saw a woman, cooking on a small stove on the floor. The smell was wonderful, he thought. She looked up and gasped at the sight of him. He smiled in reassurance and raised his hand in supplication, and she appeared to relax.

He was just about to pull back when a sudden blast took out half the doorframe, peppering his face with debris. Staggering back, he quickly loosened the strap on his helmet and pushed it back on his head so he could wipe the brick dust from his eyes. It was chaos, as gunfire was returned by his men, who were spreading out behind him.

"Sniper down!" someone yelled, indicating the sniper had been neutralised.

Ben was yelling at him now and Athos, still trying to clear his eyes, squinted over at him and shouted that he was ok.

Ben raised a thumb in acknowledgement and took a step toward him.

Athos did not hear the blast, as it slammed him into the wall of the house, but he did see his comrade suddenly disappear in a bloody red mist that hit Athos in the face and covered his upper body in the gore that was once Ben Elmer.

He also saw the woman in a long green hooded cloak, who was standing in the midst of the horror, totally untouched by the dust, noise and the human remains that engulfed them.

She was looking directly at him, her eyes blazing.

He very briefly held her gaze, trying to make sense of what he was seeing as his brain began to shut down and his legs gave way.

Then the wall came down on top of him, and he saw no more.