Aftermath
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
P.S. This is sort of a reenactment of a scene in Band of Brothers that I found very moving and really captured an effect of war. Added some parts which may contain references to other works.
Happens in between missions. Soap speaks here.
Soap shivered against the chilly air. He could barely understand how the Russians tolerated this kind of cold. It wasn't the Christmas-warms-your-heart-fuzz cold. It was a bitter freeze that chilled him to the very core.
After Al-Asad was taken care of, they got word that hostiles were en route to their position, ETA three days. They were advised to get familiar with the surrounding area.
And Captain Price had this brilliant idea for a march at the crack of dawn. Only he, Soap, and Gaz were marching. The others were still asleep.
Lucky bastards, in snug warm blankets, with bowls of hot soup.
If Price wasn't his captain, he would have most likely thrown his pillow at the man.
Soap zipped up his jacket, holstered his rifle, and drew his pistol.
"Negative Captain. No one in sight."
Price frowned. "I can sense someone. Safeties off."
Soap frowned, but he obeyed and switched to his rifle. The others followed suit.
Silent footsteps reached their ears. Price was right; there was someone. But the footsteps were too light. Not like male soldiers.
"Fan out." Price's voice was a whisper. "Soap, get down so I can get a shot."
Soap dropped to one knee, his gun jammed against his shoulder.
"Show yourself!" Price shouted. He repeated it in Russian.
A figure began to materialize. Soap did a double take. It was a girl. A child, to be precise. No older than eight years old. "Civilian!" Soap wondered if his word sent his message.
Don't be trigger happy.
"Stand down." Price ordered.
Everyone complied. Soap holstered his gun and stood.
Price walked over to the little girl, motioning for the others to do the same. They crowded around her.
She looked up at them, steel-grey eyes wide with curiosity, admiration, and fear.
"Don't hurt me please…" She moaned in Russian.
"Easy. We're not the bad guys." Price's knowledge of the foreign language was extensive. "Where are your parents?"
"Dad was taken by the people."
"Who?"
"Men wearing clothes like yours. They had guns. Some had goggles. Some wore socks on their heads."
"Balaclavas?"
The girl nodded. She ran a finger through her blond hair. "They were speaking to him. Someone stuck a silver thing into his back. He fell on the ground."
Price was pissed, yet made his face neutral in order not to frighten the girl.
"Did they put him to sleep?" The girl stared at Price.
Price didn't know whether to tell the truth that her father was dead or lie and say something else.
He opted for middle ground.
"I don't know."
A second figure materialized. A beautiful woman with steel grey eyes and long blond hair.
She had shadows under her eyes, however, and her posture was a little stooped.
"Anya! Don't annoy them!" She said, also in Russian.
"Don't worry ma'am. Your daughter wasn't annoying."
"She's my sister. My name is Elena." Her face was strained, afraid.
Price felt cold rage simmering.
He understood what war could do.
That didn't mean he condoned it.
"We're not Ultranationalists. We're from the UK. Can you tell me what happened here, please?"
Elena faced Price and began her narration of how the Ultranationalists came here a month ago, forcing the town to cater to their every whims.
She told the story how their parents got killed.
And finally, in a small voice, she told the captain how she was raped by five men one night.
Price kept his hands behind his back to hide the fact that they were shaking.
He looked at Anya. Thankfully, she did not seem to have heard their conversation.
He then looked at Soap and Gaz. Their dark looks confirmed that they heard every word.
Those bastards. They did deserve death.
Meanwhile, Anya was with Soap and Gaz.
"You're SAS, aren't you?"
Soap and Gaz looked at each other.
"What makes you say that?" Gaz said.
Both he and Soap knew Russian, though not as deeply as their CO.
"It's on your vests."
Gaz nodded slowly. "But perhaps, we killed rouge SAS on the way here and took their uniforms."
Anya shook her head. "No. No one can kill an SAS."
Soap simply stared at the ground. Her naivety was unbelievable...
... Yet, he wanted that feeling somewhat. That feeling of security and innocence.
Gaz was nodding slowly as well. Anya looked at the pair of them.
Soap felt sorry for her. Losing her parents at such a young age meant immense loneliness.
There would be no father to give her bedtime stories and tuck her in.
No mother to cook her favorite meal. No father to give her piggyback rides.
No mother to make the pain from knee scrapes go away.
No one.
On impulse, Soap sat down, took something from his pocket and held it out to her.
It was a chocolate bar. Hershey's Milk Chocolate to be exact.
Anya looked at it curiously.
"What is that?"
Soap was puzzled. "Chocolate. You've never seen it?"
Anya shook her head.
Gaz, who was crouching, fell on his rear with a loud thump.
"You've got to be bloody kidding me. She's never seen chocolate before?" He said to Soap in English. "Ultranationalist bastards."
"Evil sons of bitches," Soap growled.
He turned to Anya and said in Russian. "Try it."
Soap unwrapped the bar partially.
Anya accepted it and took a small bite.
Her face lit up and a smile formed on her lips.
She chewed slowly, as if savoring the flavor, wanting to make it last as long as possible.
She swallowed, and took a small bite again.
"It's good, isn't it?" Gaz looked at her with a mixture of sorrow and happiness.
She looked at them with bright eyes. She nodded.
"She has never tasted chocolate before." Elena said.
All eyes turned to her. "The Ultranationalists always took it."
Price lowered his eyes.
He drew out of his pocket two candy bars and gave it to Elena.
"For the both of you."
Elena shook her head in silent protest, but Price said, "I insist."
She nodded her head, took the chocolate and thanked him.
"Wait." Gaz had sat up and was holding something.
His own candy bars.
"Take these too." He pressed them into Elena's hand.
Elena bowed her head slightly and thanked them.
"Anya, let's go home." Anya nodded. She looked at the three men and said, "Thank you."
Soap, Price, and Gaz nodded. "Go home, and lock the door. If you have a cellar, stay there for a few days." Price looked at her, then at Elena. "You'll be safe."
Elena nodded. "Thank you. Anya, come."
A small smile graced her lips, the first time for weeks.
Anya followed, still holding the partially eaten candy bar.
She turned, smiled at them one last time, and ran to catch up with her sister.
No one spoke.
They were all still staring at the road the girl and her sister walked down.
Price spoke up. "This is why we do it. To make sure we prevent shit like this from happening to the best of our ability."
Gaz growled. "It's things like these that make me want to kill some bastards."
Soap nodded. "I'm looking forward to the day when the Ultranationalists get here. There'll be hell to pay."
The others nodded. After a while, Price looked at his watch.
"Let's go back."
Everyone trudged back toward the house they were staying. All were silent.
Did the Ultranationalists think that when we saw things like these, we would be scared, thinking this might happen to us? If that's the case, they are dead wrong. Things like these only harden my resolve to fight back.
Soap hardened his face into a stony glare.
Let them come. Let them try to get past us. I'd be more than happy to kill them.
R and R.