"Fuck, don't poke it!"

Wincing noticeably, the sniper backs away from the strange object they've all been staring at for the last twenty minutes. Mildly bewildered and mostly panicked, the look on his face is one of complete disbelief – as if he'd just stuck his hand into a jar and found it full of spiders. The rest of them are calmly smoking cigarettes or chewing on bitten-down fingernails, waiting, watching. Heads cocked, eyes narrowed, and smokes hanging halfway out their mouths - every one of them is just as confused by the existence of the thing as the guy next to him. Confused, but also enthralled.

Only Doc Roe seems more worried than curious. He stands a few feet behind the rest, cautiously sneaking peeks over Luz's lean shoulders – easier now that there's less of him and more uniform hanging off him like a shapeless sack.

After a moment, he sinks back into position. Chin in hand, arms crossed over his chest, slumped over, eyes wide and dark and suspicious. He doesn't like the look of the thingamabob, absolutely certain he'd seen something like it in one of them dime store comic books he used to slip into his mother's shopping basket.

"What the fuck d'ya think it is?" Luz stubs out his cigarette with the toe of his boot and gives the strange metal object an experimental kick.

"Probably some Kraut killin' machine," says Randelman flatly, rifle slung low in his arms.

"…You reckon we should," Shifty pauses for a beat, rolling his shoulders with a shaky lopsided grin. It lasts but a moment and falls. "Y'know. Turn it on? See what it does?"

Liebgott scoffs "Good idea, Shift. Let's turn on the fuckin' Kraut death trap and see which one of us it can blow to kingdom come first, huh?"

"All right, boys, nobody's gettin' blown anywhere," Randelman intervenes. "'Specially not when we're this close to goin' home."

Luz looks over his shoulder at the two officers whispering in their darkened corner. "Major Winters, sir?"

The officer with the golden-red hair reacts instantly, his head snapping without a moment's notice toward the sound of his name. He turns to find every eye in the room focused on him. Nervous eyes, like cows being led into a slaughterhouse.

Winters offers a small, fleeting smile in an attempt to assuage them, but it doesn't seem to do much good for his own fear – roiling like rancid hot soup in the pit of his stomach. "I'm going to have a bomb squad come and take a look at it. In the meantime, do a sweep and make sure we don't have any other unidentified Kraut weaponry on our hands."

He exchanges a few muted words with Lipton, who nods, salutes quickly, and leaves the room with his boots slamming hard against the ground in his haste. The rest of the boys have gone back to staring at the thing. Luz, hands shaking, goes for the nearly finished pack of Lucky Strikes in his loosened breast pocket. He always smokes when he's nervous.

"Sir?" Shifty pipes up from behind the metal cube. "I think I might'a found somethin' quite tellin' about this here thingamajiggy, sir!"

Everyone gathers quickly around what they are all convinced is a Kraut instrument of doom.

Shifty sits at the epicenter of the close-quartered group, crouched before what appears to be the control panel for the device. He drags his thumb carefully over the thick coat of dust that'd built up slowly in the time it had been down here, shelved and forgotten. Four symbols were stamped in bold directly above the grimy panel. Everyone in the small group knits their brow in utter confusion as it's brought to their attention, squinting at the thick black characters as they tried to decipher their meaning.

"The hell is that?" says Liebgott, his voice husky and low.

Luz jabs his pinky in his ear, wriggling furiously as if to clear the wax out of it. "Joe, you whisper in my ear like that again and you're going to get me all excited," he says. "I'm going to start expecting things."

"Shut up, Luz."

Winters, ignoring the squabble going on behind his back, traces the lettering with the pad of his finger. "They appear to be in German, but seeing as I have a limited understanding of the language, it's only a best guess – not very much help to us until the bomb squad gets here." Winters shrugs helplessly as they all look to him expectantly for answers. "I know about as much as you do."

All of the sudden, without provocation or warning, an eerie red light switches on. The machine begins to whistle and buzz, a small rhythmic pulse emanating from deep within it. For a moment, everyone in the room freezes – eyes round as snow globes. Their mouths go slack in horror as the thick metallic pounding picks up speed, like an airplane preparing for takeoff.

A taut nervousness takes root in George Luz's enormous black eyes. "Uhhh...is it supposed to be doin' that?!"

"Shifty!" Liebgott croaks. "What the hell did you do?!"

"I didn't do nothin', Joe, I swear on my daddy's life!"

"Leave your daddy outta this, would ya?" Luz remarks, his voice going hoarse.

Winters pushes Shifty in front of him and the wiry Southern marksman takes off like a jackrabbit for the exit. With his arm still outstretched as a barrier between them and imminent danger, Winters guides the rest of the boys toward the door. His eyes are locked on the glowing red machine; the longer he watches it scream and shudder, the more urgently he pushes them onward.

"Move, move, move!" He shouts over the growing din, shoving and maneuvering, and takes a firm hold of Roe's arm as he passes him by.

Shifty, the first one to the door, reaches for the knob just as a blinding white light floods the bunker.

And in an instant, the room is empty, a cold silence ringing in the wake of the dying clamor –

They're gone.