The Real Reason Tucker Doesn't Use the Sniper Rifle
Chapter 2: Peeping Toms and Promises
Heaven Sent Tenshi

As soon as Simmons returned, he was introduced to Torin.

"Nice to meet you, Private Simmons," she greeted, holding her bleeding shoulder. Twenty minutes earlier, her bullet wound began to bleed through the bandages.

"Likewise." Simmons held out his right hand to shake. Torin removed her hand from her shoulder then paused, looking down at it. It was covered in blood.

"Sorry… I… uh…"

"Don't worry, that's ok. Maybe I should change those bandages for you."

"That might be a good idea…" Torin shifted on the table, looking down at her bandages as Simmons began to search for fresh wraps in a compartment below the table.

"Does it hurt?"

"Yeah… but it's more of a dull ache now…"

"That's good…" Simmons rose to his feet again, laying the bandages on the table. "Uh… I'll say this as professionally as I can… but… I'll… uh… need you to… take off your shirt…"

Suddenly, Grif was at Simmons' side. "So, uh, you need help changin' those bandages?"

"No, Grif, I don't. Go somewhere else, you're makin' her nervous."

Indeed, Torin had her face pointed down as she attempted to hide her horrendous blush.

"No I'm not, lemme help!"

"Grif, get outta here!" Simmons shoved Grif aside.

"Fine, fine! I'm goin'… Ass…"

Simmons sighed as the guy in orange exited through one of the doors.

"I'm sorry about that…" he murmured. Torin nodded. "You don't have to take your shirt all the way off, just enough so I can get to your shoulder." Torin nodded again, unbuttoning the first three buttons of her shirt, slipping her left arm carefully out of her sleeve to give Simmons access to the soiled bandages. Slowly, he began to unwrap the strips of cloth. "If ya feel uncomfortable, lemme know."

"You mean more so than I do now?"

"Sorry… but you really do need to keep clean bandages on this… it could get infected…"

"Yeah, I know…"

Suddenly, Simmons paused, looking back at the door Grif had exited through. "Just a sec…" He pulled out his pistol and fired four shots at the wall.

"HEY!" Grif screamed, "God damnit, that last one just about hit me!" He peered round the corner at the pair.

"That was the point."

"Fine!"

Grif sulked away as Simmons turned to pick up the fresh wraps on the table.

"He's such an idiot…"

"So I've noticed…" Simmons laughed under his breath as he began to wrap the new bandages around Torin's shoulder.

"Thank you," she muttered as he finished, slipping her arm into her sleeve and buttoning her shirt up again.

"No problem. So… how long d'ya think you'll be here for?"

"I dunno… a while, I think… at least until I can reach Command…"

"How d'ya plan on doin' that?"

"… I …" Torin sighed, "have absolutely no idea…"

Simmons paused. "I could help you… if ya want."

"Well… Sarge asked that I didn't get in the way…"

"Half the time we just stand around doin' nothin', anyway."

Torin smiled. "I would appreciate any help you have to offer."

"Then I'll start looking into frequencies. If I find anything I'll let y'know."

"Thank you…." Torin turned away, fiddling with the bullet hole in her shirt.

"Torin!" She looked up to find Sarge in the doorway behind her. "There ya are; where've ya been?" he demanded.

"… I haven't moved since I got here, Sir."

"That's beside the point. Here." Sarge handed Torin a small device. "It's a radio; you'll need it if y'wanna contact us…"

"Oh… thank you."

"… And also for your assignment."

"Wait… what?" Torin looked up from the headset she held in her hand. "Assignment? I've told you, I want no part in this frivolous war of yours!"

"Ya won't be fightin', you'll just be doin' a bit of… well, you're an 'Observer', aren't ya? You'll just be observing the Blue Team for a while."

"Sir, when I say I don't want to be involved, I mean by all aspects of the phrase!"

"D'ya wanna stay here or not?"

"You said the only condition for my staying here was that I didn't bother the others!"

"Well, things changed. You wanna stay here, don't ya?"

"Yes, but not if that means being involved in this mindless bloodshed!"

"This isn't 'mindless bloodshed', this is war, Missy!"

"It's all the same to me!"

"Look, you're the only one here the Blues won't recognize. It'll be safe and it'll be easy. All ya haf ta do is sneak up to the Blue Base and tell us what they're doin'."

"Sir," Simmons began, "Permission to speak freely."

Sarge turned to him. "Fine, what?"

"If the Blues see her, won't they be tempted to take her prisoner?"

"'Course not! How'll they know she's on our team?"

"They will, if they have any sense," Torin retorted.

"In that case…" Grif began, leaning against the wall beside the door he entered through again, "you'll be fine. I doubt those idiots'll even notice you."

"Grif's right," Sarge looked back at Torin, "though I hate to admit it. Just go in there, get a good look at what they're doin', radio us back with the information, and we'll take it from there."

"Sir," Simmons turned to Sarge, "what exactly do you plan on doing?" Sarge didn't reply but stared blankly at the soldier in maroon. The group in the room knew he had no clue what to do yet.

Torin sighed. She looked down at the device in her hand then back up at the soldiers. "From what I can tell… it seems I haven't much choice in this matter…. I'll help you, but only on one condition."

"Great," Sarge sighed in relief, "What is it?"

"That I am not forced to do anymore of this." Torin paused. "And that I am allowed sufficient time to heal the wounds I've acquired from that crash."

"I dunno how much time I can give ya… but you'll feel better when the time comes. We got a deal?" Sarge held out his hand to shake. Torin peered down at it. She paused again before taking his hand in her bloodied one.