A/N: I felt that the first chapter ended in the wrong place so here's part 2 of chapter 1. Thanks again to Maxmar for helping me with the German.


The ride from the airfield was relatively smooth except for a few bumps on the road. Most of the squad was asleep in their seats whilst Nick was looking over the battle plans for the offensive. Panzer brigades along with Panzergrenadiers were to drive a wedge into the bulk of the allied advance, stopping the allies cold and giving Germany time to regroup. Fuchs had finished his cigarette and was fiddling with his rifle, obviously nervous.

"First time on the frontlines?" The foxes head snapped up in surprise.

"Erm…Jawohl Herr Wilde."

"Don't worry. You'll be with me as my spotter. With that rifle, you won't hit anything," the fox stated as he pointed to Fuch's scoped Gewehr 43. "Semi-automatic rifles aren't too effective at longer ranges."

"So I've heard."

"Achtung!" one of the voices in the front of the half-track yelled out. The vehicle braked suddenly and threw the squad out of their seats into the boxes of supplies.

"OW!"

"WAS ZUM TEUFEL IHR IDIOTEN!?"

"Could you hit the brakes a little harder next time? I think my face needs a little redecorating!"

"At least you're not being crushed by a thousand pound chunk of meat!"

"Sorry!"

"Look at the road Arschloch!" one of the drivers cried. Nick dug himself out of a pile of combat rations and sniffed the heavens, the scent of death prominent in the air. He climbed to the top and saw what affirmed his senses. The road to Falaise was clogged with burnt out vehicles and the half charred bodies of German soldiers riddled with bullet holes.

"Fahrer, hold here. You!" Nick exclaimed as he pointed to the panther in the passenger seat. "Get on the Maschinengewehr."

The fox jumped down from the roof into the crew compartment where his squad mates were getting ready to disembark. They'd seen this a thousand times over in Russia to know what was next. The panther scampered into the gunners' seat and pulled the cocking handle, signaling that the MG was ready to fire.

"Fallschirmjäger! Geht von bord!"

The rear doors slammed open and the six mammals jumped out. They made a defensive line around the half-track, scanning the horizon with their rifles. Klein and Schmidt checked the bodies for any survivors to no avail. The smoke made it hard for the sniper teams to get a bearing on their surroundings. They were spread three on each side of the road parallel to the vehicle.

"Vorrücken!"

The half-track lurched forward and the six march along the side of the road proceeding toward Falaise. Wreckage seemed to be strewn for miles as hundreds of Opel Blitz trucks and half-tracks burned on the road, the smell of blood and smoke filling everyone's nostrils, making the use of scent almost impossible. A form suddenly appeared in the orange and black smoke in front of the squad; the audible clicking of safeties being disengaged and the squealing of the half-track's brakes was heard. Once again, the squad formed a line in front of the vehicle. They were all prone, waiting for the form to reveal itself.

"Unteroffizier Wilde will take the shot. Pass it down the line," whispered Nick to Fuchs.

One by one each mammal passed the message down. Klein then gave the message to the driver, who relayed it to the gunner. Nick peered through his scope at the form. The unknown figure was seemingly shambling towards the group with a limp. It held something in his hand but was apparently using the object to support itself. As it walked through the smoke, the forms physical features began to appear. It stood six and a half feet tall compared to the wreckage it walked past. Glimpses of the black uniform were apparent; various medals on the chest were visible, including a Balkenkreuz.

"Nicht schießen!" yelled out Nick. "Schmidt, Müller! Follow me!"

The three stood up and ran towards the figure, now visible to the whole squad. He was a black panther dressed in a tarnished black uniform, similar to the uniforms of tank crewmen of the Heer. His identifying patches and marks were either gone or too dirty to make out. His right leg was barely usable as multiple shards of metal stuck out from his calf and thigh.

"You must…LEAVE!" gasped the panther, who collapsed into the arms of Müller and Schmidt. "Get out of here while you can!"

The panther continued to mutter incoherently as they set him down next to the half-track, leaning him on his uninjured side. He continued pointing in the opposite direction from which the group came from but began yelling again.

"You must leave! They're coming!"

"What happened soldier? Who's coming?" Nick asked calmly. He place a paw on the panther's left shoulder and handed him a canteen. "Tell me…what happened here."

The panther's eyes, formally wide with fear, were returning to normal. He sighed as he took the canteen from Nick and took a swig. "We were headed to Falaise whe –"

BANG!

Blood splattered across Nick's face, spraying his fur and uniform a dark red color. Pain flared from his left shoulder and he felt a warm sensation trickling down his chest. His vision went dark for what he thought was a brief moment, darting in and out of consciousness. He felt a paw grab the collar of his jacket and drag him back. He could hear the machine gun on the half-track laying automatic fire into the smoke, covering the squad as they made their retreat. The pain in his shoulder overwhelmed his senses and he blacked out yet again.

When he regained consciousness, the sounds of battle had disappeared replaced by crickets and the crackling of fire. His body was propped up against a tree parallel to the road and could see the faint glow of blurry orange. As his vision began to clear up, he spotted two scorched bodies hanging over the side of the now burning wreckage of the half-track. He wanted to move his left arm but flinched in pain as he'd forgotten about his injury. He touched the wound lightly only to reveal that he'd been patched up with a field bandage.

With his good arm, Nick hoisted himself up off the ground. His vision began to fade again as he leaned against another smaller tree and fell to his knees.

Come on Wilde…it's only a flesh wound.

He gathered his strength and pulled himself onto the road. Surprisingly it was more barren than he had last remembered.

"How the hell did we get here?" Nick muttered to himself. "I need to keep moving."

Nick's body ached, screaming at him to stop and his legs felt like lead. He staggered away from the burning wreck, shedding the equipment he had on his back one piece at a time.

Just keep going Wilde…just keep…

He finally succumbed to the loss of blood as he fell to the ground once more, his vision fading into the darkness one last time.