He looked out the window, the boy in the red hooded sweatshirt, below him the ocean crashed against the rocks of the english shoreline. The smell of helicopter gasoline and dried blood filled his nostrils. His sister sat just behind him, stroking the back of his head with her fingertips. But he was lost, lost in the thoughts of things that he would never see again. His Mother, his father, his friends, his home, his school, all the things that he used to take forgranted. Before the events of the passed year, Andy Harris was a normal kid, probably not too much like you or me. But now here he was, one of the last remaining survivors of something that humanity came to know and understand as "The Rage Virus". He looked on as the coastline slowly dissapeared into the horizon, he thought of all the times he had shared with everyone he once knew, all the smiles, the laughs, all the things that he never thought he would miss. It was a terrible feeling, for a 12 year old boy to have to feel. But nothing was as terrible as the thought that his parents were gone, and his sister was the only thing he really had left. He didn't fully understand yet, his condition, but the bite mark on the side of his shoulder was throbbing. He looked up at his sister, her hair slowly blowing in the small bit of air that was maing it into the cockpit. She smiled at him, softly nodding her head. He laid his head down into her lap, and slowly, drifted off to sleep.

28 Weeks Later: EMPIRE

Escailes: Outskirts - 7:17 am

Escailes is a small town just on the outer edge of the European Border, where the French Coastline meets the English Channel. For years the town has gotten by with the beach front as one of their main tourist attractions. Although so small, over the years the town has done fairly decent with the summer travellers coming through on vacation. The outter areas of the town were much like the rest of the country side, endless feilds. The passed six months had taken a toll on the town, with the outbreak of the Rage Virus in The United Kingdom, the french government did just the same thing that they always did when in trouble, called in the United States Military. Since then the town had been evacuated as one of the only towns on the coast that would house the soldiers being sent in to keep the countryside free of infection. The military presense in the town was now growing dramatically, looking more like a full blown military installation than the town that some people might have remembered. There were only a few other towns that had been evacuated due to the threat of infection. Wissant, Sangatte and Calais were in the highest threat area, given that the UK border was visible just across the channel.

Since the destruction of The Green Zone, the United States Military had been on a massive evac of their command personel that had been stationed in London. The first reports that came in said that the Army had suffered massive casualties, and the survivors were in some sort of mortal danger as the risk of infect grew and grew as the number of infected sky rocketted. Most of the data that had been collected was lost in the firebombing, and the general population of The Green Zone had been wiped out by the Virus. The Base a Calais had been mobilized to handle the evacuation,leaving Escailes and Sangatte the only two remaining bases that were manned and ready. The two bases had been taking in new soldiers weekly, sending men back to the rear for R/R. The rotation was off now though, with the destruction of District 1, came a whole new list of things that had to be dealt with. But as it did before, the military was ready to just let the infected die out, with no way to get out of the United Kingdom the infected were doomed to roam an abandoned wasteland. In a few months, they would try again, even though most of the countries inhabitants were either dead, or otherwise.

Jason Price was a greenhorn, having only graduated from Basic a few days before, was finding his way across the central courtyard that had been come to be called "The Lions Den". His story was much like alot of america's youth, he had graduated from high school with a lower grade point average than his parents would have liked. Giving him very little option as far as more schooling went, he joined the military thinking that it would give him an easy ride, and although basic had been hell for him, the thought of being stationed in such a peaceful environment was better than he had thought. He was 18 years old, had been a bit of a hellian when he was growing up, but his short time in the military had already changed him more than he could even understand yet. He was one of the smaller soldiers on the base, and all through basic he had gotten hell for it, but He figured they would have sent him into Iraq, Afghanistan, but since the innitial outbreak, most of the militaries central concerns had changed. The courtyard was bussling with activity, basketball, some card games here and there, a heavy burst of laughter from the group of men standing around the television. "Celebrate" by Rare Earth played over a loudspeaker in the background. The commanders center was on the north side of the base, made inside of the old Hotel I' Escale. The outside of the building had been left to grow over with whatever vegitation. As he walked up to the building he shook his head, having pictured the command center being some sort of gigantic building, filled with computers and touch screens. But this was good enough, small time, meant small conflict. As he stepped into the building he set his ruck sack down on the floor next to a small wooden bench and headed for the Leutenant standing in front of the counter.

The Luetenant was looking through a list of new soldiers, newbies came on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, which is why he was a little peeved as Jason stepped up to him, it was Monday and it looked like the Luetenant had other things he could have been doing. Lt. Daniel Forrest had joined the military fresh out of college, gone through basic and then to OTS. He had been here almost four months now, and had yet to see any real action. He Thought he could have been doing the world a little better, he was the type that would have been right there fighting in Falluja if he was only born a couple of years earlier. He looked down at the kid now standing at attention in front of him, he shook his head and put the cigarette he had been smoking out against the shiny wooden countertop.
"Private Jason Price reporting Sir!" he put his hand against his forehead in a salute as the Leutenant scoffed and shook his head.
"Put your hand down man, we're not that formal around here, lemme see your shit."
Jason pulled his deployment papers out of his pocket and handed them to Forrest, Daniel looked them over for a moment, rolling his eyes a couple times before signing the sheet at the bottom of the page. He then went to his file he had been holding and marked another mark on the side of it.
"Private, did they explain to you what it is that we do out here?" he asked.
"Sir they said it was for re-patriation sir!" Daniel laughed at Price's responce.
"Nah, we tried that, failed, all of our Command personel are on their way back across the channel now, I guess they caught hell over there." the leutenant had a small bit of regret in his voice, having wished that he could have taken part in the U.K. Campaign. He shook off the feeling and turned to the Private now waiting for his orders.
"Your assigned to Delta, you report to Seargent Davis."
"Sir Thank You Sir" Price yelled before quickly grabbing his things up off the ground and headed for the door.
"And Kid..." Daniel spoke at the last moment. "Don't get excited, welcome to the Big Lazy."
The kid smirked, the meaning behind the Big Lazy was simple, they had been here for the last four months and not seen anything, other than a few refugees, but no real action other than that. Protocol for dealing with Refugees was simple, stamp them, mark them and send them into Paris. For the passed four months this is all the United States Military did in France. The Big Lazy, came from this fact.

Sgt. Bryan Davis was a veteran, having been through Somalia and the innitial Invasion of Iraq, he was one of the more hardenned men on the base, they had sent so many kids out into France and so few seasoned soldiers. His group of men were standing ready now, the patrol they were to go on was to survey the areas from the coastline back to the town, just as a routine patrol for Refugees and other survivors. As Jason stepped up to Delta tent the Davis spotted him immediately, calling attention to him as he set his stuff down on the ground.
"Well Well Well, look what they sent us, more Bomb-bait, whats your name son?" the others didn't break formation, Sgt. Davis was a hard-ass, I guess he thought he had to be that way. It was crazy how the contrast between Forrest and Davis was so drastic. Jason straightened up, throwing his hand into a salute once again.
"Private Jason Price Sir!" the Sgt, smiled, nodding his head.
"Your just in time, we're about to take ourselves a leasurely walk to the beach, you wanna go to the beach Private!" the question was rhetorical, but you have to answer anyways.
"Sir Yes Sir!"
"Well good, gear up and meet us at RDLM in five, the rest of you, lets move!"
The troop was made up of a group of seven men. Delta was one of the smaller groups in this division, the reason for this wasn't really clear, but never the less it left the Sergeant a little short handed when it came to certain things. When he had seen Action, Davis was used to going into battle with groups ranging from 50-200, entire companies. Which is why when they assigned him to delta squad he was a little more than irked by it. Jason scrambled to get his weapon out of the bag that it was still inside of, yanking it out and loading a clip in, pushing the safety into the "Safe" position. Throwing his bag back into the corner of the room he ran out the door and down the street after the rest of his squad. They were taking a quite leasurely pace, almost strolling through the base. As Jason caught up with his squad one of the men turned around, he was a medium sized guy, sporting a tiny tuft of hair under his chin and thick glasses. PFC. Peyton.
"Hurry Up Rook!" he shouted.
"Sorry sir." Price responded as he stepped up to the group.
"Where'd they get you from kid?" Peyton asked, letting the kid catch his breath.
"The box labelled, Confused, Young and Reckless." cynical humor, always a good icebreaker. Peyton lets out a chuckle as he taps the shoulder of the man walking just in front of him. A Taller dark skinned man with a hard New York Accent.
"Hey Bronze, we got Dane Cooke back here." Peyton said with a laugh.
"Haha Really, new guys always got jokes man, except you though." Bronze replied with a wink in Price's direction.
"Hey Mother Fucker, I said the next time you do that in front of a new guy Imma shoot you." The three laughed.
"Hey Tighten up back there!" The Sgt. Shouted from the front of the group. Peyton rolled his eyes and turned to the rookie.
"Don't mind him man, he's had one too many Latte's this morning, fucking Frenchland..."
"So, you guys have any idea what happened across the channel?" Price asked, obviously a sort of touchey subject, the two in front of him looked at each other momentarily before Bronze turned back to Price.
"The last report said complete failure, they had to bomb london, I heard someone say there was nothing left over there but ashes, its crazy, my buddy Nash got sent over...its too bad." He said morosely.
"So what does that mean?" the rookie asked after a few moments.
"It means that whatever went on over there doesn't matter anymore, the incident is mostly contained, and if it isn't, I've got a cure for the Rage Virus right here." He tapped the side of his M249.

As they got out of town Jason looked out, the flat countryside reminded him of him, Ohio was where he was from, and where he spend his years growing up. The countryside was the best part of the world he thought, having grown up in a small country town just like Escailes. He breathed in the smell of the early-morning air as the scent of wheat and grass filled his nose. Everything was so quiet since the area had been evacuated, cars abandoned in the road, tractors still sat in center feild, where the farmers had left them sitting where they did the most good. The mood was still, as a cool breeze from the ocean swept across the feilds, sending them into a waving dance as the wind took them. The sounds of footsteps and the soft whistling of the wind was all Jason could hear. The rest of the group was mostly quiet, thats the way they kept it most of the time. Minus a few moments of chit chat here and there, mostly due to the Sgt. He was really big on protocol and discipline, either way, Jason didn't mind. He was thousands of miles away from anyone he knew, and the guys he had gone through basic with had all been sent somewhere else. The mostly trains in groups, but when your the odd man out, you get the shaft, and this is where Jason found himself. Walking through a feild, already starting to feel the on-coming boredom setting in. But he was from a small town either way, so the quiet life really didn't bother him much. Peyton and Bronze on the other hand were from the City, and were the first two that really felt the small town life style get repetative.

"So Where You From Rookie?" Bronze asked, not breaking his watch ahead of him

"I'm from Finley, Ohio." Price replied, watching the abandoned Tractor to the left, a small peice of clothe blowing in the wind to its side.

"So you feel right at home huh." Peyton spoke up. "Out here in the boondocks."

"I guess man..." Price replied as Peyton turned to him.

"I keep saying they send too many of you kids out here, what made you wanna join up?" He asked.

"My parents mostly, they said that I needed to find something to do with my life, see, the way my dad always saw it, he went to college, so he thought it real important that I go. But when I got out of high school no one would give me shit, and I had no fucking money ya know? I join up, they give me a free ride, so here I am." The two looked at him, rolling their eyes and shaking their heads as they turned back to the front of the group.

"Too many of you kids are here for that reason, your lucky that your here, if they would have sent you over to the oil feilds you would be screaming for that plane back to the states, here its like a big vacation, been here four months haven't shot one person." Peyton explained.

"Yeah, its like the cold war again, but instead of Nukes we got this...Rage Virus..." Added Bronze.

"You guys brought in many survivors, their must have been some?" Price asked.

"In the passed few months there have been a few hundred of them, just that we've picked up on these patrols, everytime we find them their always the same way, pretty confused and a little out of their minds, I guess it comes with the territory when your country hits the shitter. But we usually just round them up, stamp em and pack em, send em back to the refugee camps in Paris. And those are even pretty luxurious, you see any of Paris on your way through rook?" Price shook his head in Peyton's direction. "Well you missed out, alotta fine girls out there, all wanting something to do with a man in uniform, its been that way since like what, World War two?" The two laughed as Price shook his head, finding a little humor in it. "The fact of the matter is that there isn't that much to do out here anymore, in the last month we've done nothing but walk up and down the beaches, looking at fish and keeping some of the locals in line. Since we moved them all out they've been coming back on a pretty regular basis, maybe they just dont get the fact that we're on red alert status." Price raised his eyebrow.

"What you mean, Red Alert Status?"

"He means that since the fall of London the united states military has been on high alert, but if the last couple months have been any indication, we wont be seeing too much more action, more than likely this will just clean itself up. Maybe this time we'll get our chance at going in there, I wanna see that wreckage, must be a sight." Bronze pondered the site of Destroyed London a couple hundred miles north. Its burnt buildings painting the morning sky a shade of grey, the smoke from the burning buildings casting shadows down onto the rest of the city. Quite the veiw indeed.

"Yeah, really must be something..." Price couldn't even imagine what it must have been like for all those people, and only now it started to hit him, the reality of the entire situation. All those families, men, women, children, and entire population of people wiped out by a single virus. He found himself reminiscing about the dark ages, about how humanity had handled the plague back then. There was nothing we could do then, and even now, there is very little humanity can do in the face of something so devastating. The thoughts poured into his head like a waterfall, and as he looked around at the baron emptiness of the area, he shook his head. But it was contained, with the Channel between the mainland and the English Border, the complete shut down of air travel. And the Navy watching the channel for boats and small rafts, there wasn't a way for the virus to jump from England to the mainland. Since the small outbreaks in New York and Paris, the United States had learned what had to be done, there was no cure, and for the infected there was only one ultimate end...as sad as it was. Jason shook his head at the thought of heartlessly killing men and women, and maybe children. But all that was over now, now the only project was how rebuild again, but that was a thought that didn't even seem possible now, not after the firebombing, after the second outbreak. The Rage virus was winning...

"What you guys think about all of it?" He asked.

"Its all bullshit man, just like anything is, we're just here to do a job, the way I see it I'm only here until the world finds a new shitstorm to put us in the middle of." Peyton was the pessimistic one. Bronze on the other hand...

"Just here to make some money, I could be getting shot at right now, or blown up by a fucking IED, Im telling you man, those Al Queda bastards are crazy, so Im glad that I'm walking through a feild, instead of a desert."

"What if it did get here? Infection that is..." There was a pause as the three looked back and forth at each other.

"What do you know about Infection Kid?" Bronze asked, resetting his gun from one arm to the other.

"I know it makes you crazy, I know its high contagious..." He paused, thinking of the vague description that they had given him in his briefing.

"Thats all anyone knows, infection takes between ten and twenty seconds, then you've got yourself a nice little fight on your hands, so if it ever did happen...goddamn." He didnt even want to think about it, imagining it was just too much for him.

"But don't worry man, its good, lets just concentrate on getting back to town, we've got a squad game of ball with Bravo, hopefully this time it goes better." Peyton said, looking to Bronze with an evil eye.

"Hey man, you can't pass a ball, thats it." Bronze replied.

"Man shut the fuck up, you just don't got the hands!" teased Peyton.

They were seemed like pretty good friends, and cool people to be around, Price smirked to himself as they walked on. If he had to spend the next couple months in France, at least he had good company. He could have been stuck with some rednecks, or some of those Flashy City boys, driving their Mustang GT's and BMW's. Bronze and Peyton were the closest thing to a normal person that Jason had met in the last few months he had been in training. The rest of the guys he had known had been a little bit too into the Army, they should have been marines but they just couldn't cut it. Jason was comfortable where he was, and even though he hadn't even been there a few hours yet, he already felt like this was going to be alright.

The road led them into a huge parking lot, the main tourist spot of the area, where most of the surfers and swimmers of the community would come to catch some waves. Or maybe for some late-night smash and grab. The rolling feilds met the beach so calmly, the tall grass seemlessly melding into the sand of the beach. The wind coming off the channel was cool, and refreshing to Jason's face as the sweat from the walk had just started to form on his brow. He breathed in the smell of the ocean air, a smell that he hadn't had too many chances to experience, it smelled different, like salt, but somehow clear, soothing. The Sgt. Pointed the first four men in the group to walk down the beach to the west, while he waved for Peyton, Bronze and Price to catch up and move with him to the east.

"Reminds me of a vacation I took one time boss." Peyton said looking out at the ocean.

"Yeah right, form up, lets get this shit done." Davis was no joke, dead serious all the way around.

The patrol went pretty well, the small group of soldiers walked up and down the beach. Jason looked out as the waved crashed into the sand, his footsteps marked in the sand behind him. The four men walked on, the patrol area was a five miles stretch of beach in either direction, it was all the patrolling they could do with such a small group. Alpha and Zulu company did the better part of the patrols, Delta could only do so much on foot. As they walked small conversations picked up, about their home lives, girls back home, shopping malls, music, movies. The Seargent let it go on, he knew how crucial it was for a soldier to get to know the men that he was fighting alongside of. And a little bit of conversation never hurt anything on these long walks. Even Davis wasn't immune to the boredom that set in out here. He was used to fighting terrorists, Insurgents and suicide bombers, and if he had his way he would be doing it right now. In the course of the walk, Price learned somethings about Peyton and Bronze, both from New York, joined up at the same time and gone to the same basic training facility. They had known each other through High School and the only reason they were here was because the United States Army had deemed the two as trouble-makers, because of some things they may or may not have done in basic, this was pretty much like a punishment. The two had been a little forward, and somehow found a way to set up every smoke grenade in the training facility in one place, the barracks. When it happened they thought it was funny, but the repercussions were still wearing on them, but they were making the best of it. But Davis was still a mystery, having not said more than a few words within the entire course of the conversation.

"So what about you sir?" Price asked Timidly.

"What about me?" He replied.

"What landed you here, I'm too fresh, and these guys are apparently fucks ups.." pause for laughter. "So whats your Story?"

There was a long pause, as the three walked down the beach. The others knew the story, they had read the report. Sgt. Davis had been in charge of a squad in Iraq, having been one of the first men to invade Baghdad when it was taken by the United States Military. The report said that he dropped the ball, sent men into a building that had been scheduled to be bombed with multiple others. But the way he told it, he didn't get the message until it was too late. They had sent in one bombardment, that first night, but when the troops had gone in, they had sent in fire support from the east, but there were too many squads on the ground. Fire fights broke out and alot of things got messed up, when the bombs started dropping again Davis and his team were right in the middle. The report said he lost 34 men that day, but saved another 16. For the military, that was too big of a loss for anyone to have had on their hands, in turn for the last few years he had been given the short end of the stick. Been shafted with alot of duties that he would have had some of the lower ranking men in his squad do, cleaning toilets, burning feces, the bullshit that the military seems to leave out of their pamphlets and television commercials. Either way, this was the last thing he had on his shit list, so the only reason he was here really, was to finally put all of that behind him. He had already gone through enough, most of the men he lost that day were his friends, people that he had known since the day he joined up, which was probably the subliminal reason that he was so angry all the time, not angry with the men, angry with himself. He tried to keep them together, but still keep them working towards something.

The sun was getting into the sky now, just beginning to beat down on their heads, but the cool ocean breeze made it all tolerable. The patrol had been going on for a little while now, and from where Price stood it was a nice little warm up to whatever he was going to have to be doing for the next couple of years. He figured that as long as he was here, he had no reason to say anything at all, most people who joined up found themselves in a fox hole for weeks on end, eating MRE's. But here he was, where the troops stayed in houses, ate good food, and basically just cooled their heels until the entire situation just blew over. It was just a big waiting game, at least from where he stood thats all it was. He had no idea what it was like for all those men and women who lived in Britain, all those families that had been destroyed by the virus, and for the men of the United States military that tried to rebuild the fallen civilization. He was glad that he didn't have to see it first hand, see the faces, know that there was nothing he could do to help. They got to the end of their run, Price looked down at the ground and he could see the footsteps from the patrol that had come before, having stopped and turned around in the same spot that they were right then.

"Ohhh man, its gonna be good to get back." Peyton muttered as Davis handed him a wrap sheet, Peyton started jotting down observations from where they were standing, the ocean, the horizon, the abandoned vehicles in the parking lot in the distance. The feeling of udder loneliness was apparent, and as the silence crept on it became more and more obvious.

"Situation Normal, lets head back." Davis ordered over the radio. The two teams would head back for the base and rendezvous just outside of town. Davis waved his hand in the air and pointed across the field. Price took the last couple breathes of he sea air and looked to the horizon, the English seaboard on the horizon. He shook his head, thinking of the horrors that took place just across the way, so close he could have seen it all with his own eyes. Turning away from the sea he nodded to himself, feeling comfort in the fact that it was all over. There was no way it was coming back now, how could it? The four started to make their way across the feild, stepping through the grass that was now weist high, having not been cut or harvested in quite some time. It was like looking across a painting, tall tufts of grass separated one feild from the next, making it almost impossible to see the other team from here, even though the area was so flat. The waves coming in from the ocean had made it hard to hear anything for the last little while they had been walking. But as they got halfway across the field they started to hear something, something that didn't sound like waves anymore, it had a steady, almost heavy sound. Like an airplane, or something else.

Peyton was the first to turn around, looking around for anything that could have been making that noise. Price next, then Bronze. Davis knew about the mass evac, so it wouldn't have been too surprising to see a couple of airplanes making their way back to Paris for debriefing. But instead they saw nothing, all of them looked around as the noise seemed to get louder and louder. They look to each other in confusion, raising their arms in the air not able to see anything up or down. Then Price sees it, a small dot in the sky on the horizon.

"Yo its a chopper" He says pointing it out for the others to see. As Davis moves up to his right he pulls out his binoculars, the evac choppers were Blackhawks, Iroqouis choppers. And a couple of airplanes, but what he saw was neither, a single engine chopper, coming in what looked like a pretty reckless manner. As the chopper got closer it veered off to the east, the four men looked on in pure confusion. Davis on the other hand shook his head and pulled his radio off his shoulder.

"Roost this is Eagle Four Two." he said.

"Go Eagle Four Two." The voice on the other end responded.

"Yeah, we got an unidentified helicopter setting down in a feild west of my position, we expecting any visitors over?"

"Eagle Four two thats a negative Advise you Move to intercept over."

"Roger that, we're gonna check it out, Eagle Four Two out." he clicks the mic off and waves his hand for the guys to come into a circle as the helicopter is setting down about a thousand yards off.

"What you thinkin' boss?" Peyton asks, keeping his eye on the chopper as it disappears behind some tall bushes.

"We should check it out, looks like their lost, or out of fuel or something, safety's off though." He says, clicking his safety to the "Fire" position. This is the first time Price has thought about using his gun since basic training, and he was nervous. His hand shakes as he pushes the safety off, he keeps his finger off the trigger, even he knows that hes getting shakey. The four men begin their run across the feilds, jumping fences and mowing through the tall grass. The chopper had dropped out of sight for about a minute and a half as they ran, and when it finally came back into view they could see its passengers. One of them was a soldier, he was waving his hands in the air trying to catch their attention, wearing a grey pilots uniform and holding an MP5 in his hand. Behind him stands a teenage girl, looking to be about 17-18 with dirty blonde hair. The third passenger was a young boy, his wavy hair blowing in the wind as he looked out at the soldiers now approaching quickly. As the team moved in they could see that the two civilians were covered in blood, some of it even running fresh down the side of the small boys head. It was at that moment Davis dropped to one knee, holding up a fist telling the rest of them to stop, in a second, all of the guns were aimed. Price didn't understand, Davis aimed his gun steadily at the three standing near the chopper.

"Boss what we doing?" Peyton whispered.

"Identify!" Davis yelled to the pilot.

"Sgt. Flynn, transporting Survivors from District 1!" The pilot yelled back.

"Oh well thats good yeah?" Bronze said questioningly.

"There were no Survivors..." Davis said standing up and moving forward, having not lowered his gun yet. The four moved up on the three standing near the chopper, Flynn kept his hands up, nodding his head to the two kids standing at his side to do the same. As the troop got to them Davis kicked the back of Flynn's knees and brought him to a kneel, taking the MP5 from his hand. He checked him over while the others stood guard over the other two.

"I'm not injured, but the boy needs attention." Flynn said, not making eye contact with any of them.

"Yeah I bet he does..." Davis replied.

"I'm fine..." The boy spoke.

"Don't talk kid." Price said.

The boy nodded his head, the girl shaking her head at him.

"Where you guys headed?" Davis asked Flynn, standing him back up.

"Out of England man, shit got crazy over there." Flynn replied.

"Yeah we heard, I guess ya'll had a serious fight on your hands." Peyton said, in kind of an upbeat manor.

"Alotta good men died...can't say I share your enthusiasm." Flynn shook his head.

"Whos the cargo?" Davis asked.

"Andy.." The boy said. "Andy Harris."

"Hey, I said don't talk." Price snapped. The boy looked at him now, through the strands of hair that had fallen over his face, his eyes locking with Price's. Price nodded his head, and lowered his gun, stepping towards the boy.

"You want something man?" He said in sort of an intimidating stance.

"No, he doesn't." The girl spoke up. "And I'm Tammy Harris." She said turning to Sgt. Davis.

"Well Tammy, Andy, welcome to France..." Davis said handing the MP5 Back to Flynn.