A/N: I finally got around to writing this second chapter on my own since the other author… Well, we've lost contact. But I won't dwell on it. You guys have waited long enough for me to continue this.
Oh, and thank you SomeSnowInShell for the corrections of the Finnish used in the last chapter.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
The Swedes eventually overtook the Finnish forces, mainly because they had better weaponry than we did. As they advanced in the uneasy quiet down the street, I played dead, hoping that the Swedish soldiers wouldn't figure out that I was alive. My eyes were oh-so slightly opened, so I could still somewhat see what was going on.
Four ski-masked Swedes were checking the bodies, taking ammunition and grenades, and kicking those they thought were still alive. One unlucky Finn was alive, and grunted as he was hit, only to receive a bullet to the head. I held back a gasp, trying hard to remain still. I didn't want to end up like my fellow Finn.
When the Swede who had shot the other injured Finn approached me, I forced myself to remain calm. I held my breath, going completely limp, playing the best dead guy I could possibly play. The man crouched down and placed two fingers on my neck, checking for a pulse.
Oh. Shit. I couldn't stop my heartbeat obviously, and my pulse was erratic. I could feel it. I soon found myself with a pistol pressed to my forehead, and that's when I sprung to life. My eyes opened wide and the adrenaline started pumping. I forgot all about my injured back and what was most likely a concussion, and quickly smacked the gun right out of the man's hand. He shouted in protest, and before he could go for another weapon, I lurched forward, tackling him. My back cracked in an extremely painful way, but it didn't stop me. I had one thing on my mind. To get out alive.
Within seconds, the tussle was over, due to the fact that the three other Swedes had their guns pointed at me. After I stepped off the other man and backed away slowly, the one who seemed to be in charge approached slowly, his eyes hidden behind black ski goggles. He grabbed the front of my uniform and leaned in to speak in my ear.
"Tino, 'm sorry."
I gasped and went wide-eyed. It was Berwald behind that ski mask and goggles.
"B-Berwald… I-I'll always forgive you… N-No matter what." I muttered.
"I kno'… But this'll hurt…" He replied quietly.
"D-Do what you have t-to do…" I said. He nodded a bit then slammed me up against the side of a building. I cried out in pain. My back was sure going through hell.
Berwald let one of his hands slide down to his hip, retrieving a pistol. He placed it under my chin, and tears welled up in my eyes. He wouldn't shoot me, would he?
I felt slightly relieved as his hand shakily lowered, placing the gun back in its holster.
"What're you doing, Oxensteirna? Shoot him!" One of the other Swedes shouted at my lover. Berwald turned to face them, still holding me up against the wall.
"He'll b' a good source of Finnish intell'gence. We'll keep him to translate Finnish radio stations 'nd messages." He responded.
"But that's not our orders! You said it yourself; shoot any injured Finns we come across!"
"Now m' orders are to capture, n't kill."
"But sir, we-"
"Enough, private. Y' don't have a say 'n this."
"But-" Berwald grabbed his pistol yet again, aiming it at the pugnacious soldier.
"Enough." He ordered. The other Swede didn't respond, but simply kept walking down the street. Berwald turned back to me.
"Can y' walk?" He asked. I shook my head slightly. Before I knew it, I was held in my tall lover's arms, being carried down the street. I was in a lot of pain still, and I think he noticed.
"I hurt y', didn't I?" He said. I smiled sadly.
"It was necessary though… We're fighting against eachother. I'm still your enemy." I responded.
"Now you're m' wounded captive. I'm going t' get y' out of Pajala, I promise."
"Won't your commanding officers find it suspicious that you're being so caring to me?" Berwald chuckled at my remark.
"Tino, I am a commanding offic'r. I'm Överstelöjtnant Oxensteirna. Normally I wouldn't b' out in such a dangerous area like Pajala, but I like t' keep the Swedish morale up and…"
"The Finnish morale down."
"Yeah…"
"It's all necessary in war." I hoped to cheer him up with that, but I didn't get much of a reaction.
Berwald carried me to a camp set up in a large parking lot that was barricaded by armored vehicles and barbed wire. When we passed through an opening, two soldiers walking out, presumably to go on patrol or something, saluted to Berwald. He nodded in acknowledgement and continued walking.
I was in awe at the camp before me. There were Swedes everywhere, and they were all heavily armed. Their gear was pretty protective-looking too. Where the Swedish soldiers sat or stood, there were normally crates of guns and ammunition, but occasionally there were computers and other forms of communication.
"Welcome t' Camp Låssmed, Tino. The main Swedish camp in Pajala." Berwald said.
"I don't feel very, uh, welcome here…" I responded, noting the glares many of the Swedish soldiers threw at me.
"Don't worry. Th' only places you are going t' be at are th' medical tent, and th' communicat'ns tent." He reassured me. I nodded slightly as he carried me to a white tent, most likely the medical tent he had mentioned.
He carried me in through the opening, revealing what was definitely a medical area. There were four beds lined up against the right side of the tent, six against the side adjacent where the entrance was, and two off to the left side that were splattered with blood with medical equipment scattered around. I was going to guess those were beds for operations.
"Överstelöjtnant Oxensteirna." A monotone voice caught Berwald's attention, making him turn to the man whom had spoken.
"Medic Bondevik. I have a patient for y'." He said. I got a look at the medic, and to be honest, I was pretty surprised. He was thin, pale, and had blood all over his clothes. I figured none of it was his. He also had blonde hair, held behind his ear with a cross hair pin. He wasn't in a Swedish military uniform; instead he was in brown slacks and a white long-sleeved shirt. He was most likely a civilian doctor.
Medic Bondevik looked to me and went wide-eyed, then looked back up to Berwald.
"A Finn? You want me to work on a Finnish soldier?" He questioned.
"Yes. Where do y' want me t' put him?" Berwald's voice didn't change the slightest bit at the questions Bondevik asked. I would have been stuttering and tripping over my words if a medic asked me if I wanted them to work on my enemy.
Medic Bondevik motioned to one of the six beds in the back of the tent, and meandered over with Berwald close behind. I was laid oh-so softly on the worn out mattress of the bed, and Medic Bondevik pulled up a stool next to me. He put on some latex gloves for what was most likely sanitation purposes, and was about to start doing his job, but he stopped and looked up to Berwald.
"Shoo. You'll see him soon enough." He said. Berwald nodded and saluted the medic before heading out.
"Alright… Let's get started here. What's your name, Finn?" He asked.
"Tino Väinämöinen…"
"What did Oxensteirna bring you here for?"
"I think I may have, uh, broken something in my back… And I may have a concussion… He tackled me out the wall of a two story building."
"Alright. Well, I'm going to need you to take off all your clothing from the waist up so I can see your back." He said. I nodded and started to take off my heavy uniform coat, the movements of trying to get the mass of zippers and velcro undone not working well with my back. Medic Bondevik had to step in and help me, which was embarrassing to say the least. Though after about 10 minutes, we finally managed to get all the necessary layers of clothing discarded. That consisted of a white tank top, a white long-sleeve cotton shirt, a black jacket, a bulletproof vest, and a thick camouflage coat.
Bondevik made me roll over onto my stomach and soon his cold hands were pressing on my back in certain spots, feeling the bones for any breaks. I cringed in pain and let out a grunt of pain as he pressed down on what I knew was injured. It was in my upper-spine area.
"Hm…" The medic felt the area a bit more, forcing me to bite down on my hand. "I don't feel any breaks, but there are most likely fractures." He said, taking his hands off me.
"I'm guessing from your troubles their somewhere either in the Cervical or the Thoracic vertebrae. I'm going to take a shot in the dark and say that it's either the C6 or the C7 that's fractured. Those would be in the Cervical, right above the Thoracic… Those assist arm function, which is probably why you had trouble getting undressed. I'm not a chiropractor, but I'm pretty sure that with pain medications and rest, your back can heal. We can't do kyphoplasty since I don't have the means to do that, so yeah… Rest and medication is your only option." He explained, all with a completely monotone voice.
"How long will I have to rest?" I asked.
"I'm not too sure. Let's start with a week, and if it's not completely better, we'll add another week." He said.
"Alright… Say, Medic, why aren't you in a uniform? Are you a civilian or something?" I questioned.
"I'm a Norwegian volunteer. Lukas Bondevik. I was a doctor back in Norway, but decided to offer my assistance to the Swedes. Who knew I'd end up in a place like Pajala?" He mused as he stood and went over to a shelf, sifting through boxes of medications.
"… So what's the deal with this place? All I saw outside this tent was ammunition and soldiers. Not many communications." I tried to strike up some sort of conversation with Lukas. It couldn't hurt to try and learn a bit about the camp, since I was going to be here for a while.
"This is Camp Låssmed. The main Swedish camp in Pajala. It supplies munitions to all Swedes in the Pajala area, and some other northern camps. It also houses the most heavily armed and geared soldiers in Sweden, the Långtradare. They were recently brought into the Swedish Armed Forces after going through an intense and strict training program called Ångvält Systematisk Utbildning. These Långtradare are amazing when they are in action. They have such heavy armor on them, bullets don't get through to the skin, and grenades will do little to no damage. And they use heavy-duty weapons like Rocket Propelled Grenades*, Remington 870 Shotguns**, and they carry around modified Kulspruta 88's***. No offense, but you Finns don't stand a chance with your equipment."
"We aren't exactly the best with close-range warfare. We're better with long-distance things, like sniping."
"I see. Well, enough chit-chat. Let's get you dressed, get some medication in you, and get you over to the recovery beds." He said.
Within a few minutes I was dressed in my uniform once again, minus the bulletproof vest. Lukas helped me over to the beds at the right side of the tent, and assisted me in laying down on one.
"Here." He said, handing me a few pills and a bottle of water. "Take these, and the pain in your back should go away for at least 24 hours."
I nodded and took the pills with the water as Lukas removed his latex gloves in a favor of a different pair.
"You can go ahead and keep the water. It looks like I've got another patient to take care of." He said; standing as a Swedish soldier was assisted into the tent. The man who was injured had a few bullet holes in his leg from what I could see.
I sighed a bit and leaned my head back on a pillow, closing my eyes as the Norwegian doctor conversed in Swedish with the injured patient.
A hand on my arm startled me, making me flinch and open my eyes. I let out a sigh of relief as I saw Berwald sitting next to me on a chair.
"How're y' feeling?" He asked quietly.
"I'm okay… I'm going to be stuck in this tent for a while though." I responded.
"Why?"
"Medic Bondevik said the only option for me if I want my back to heal is medication and rest."
"Ah… Looks like we'll have t' set up communicat'ns around y' then if we want y' to decode Finnish for us, huh?" He said, chuckling a bit. I smiled and slid my hand over to grasp his. He took it and brought it up to his lips.
"I love y', Tino… I wish we weren't in this war, b't we are." He murmured, warm breath heating up the cold skin of my hand.
"I… I love you too, Berwald…" I replied, almost in tears. It had been so long since Berwald and I had been able to share a moment like this.
Even though things were not looking good for the Finnish Armed Forces in Pajala, even though I was a Finnish soldier stuck in a Swedish camp, and even though there were Långtradare and entire Swedish units just waiting to kill Finns like me, I couldn't help but feel safe.
But I knew things wouldn't last long.
An explosion rang out outside, somewhere near the entrance of camp, followed by shouts and screams in Swedish. Berwald stood and hurried out of the medical tent, pulling his pistol out just before he exited.
Then I heard it. Someone shouting in Finnish, along with helicopters and what sounded to me to be something along the lines of a tank round hitting one of the armored vehicles parked around the perimeter of the camp.
That's when I realized- Oh shit. This was a full scale attack on Camp Låssmed by Finnish forces. And I, Tino Väinämöinen, was caught in the middle.
xxxxxxxxx
*A Rocket Propelled Grenade (RPG) is a shoulder-fired anti-tank weapon system which fires equipped with an explosive warhead. These warheads are affixed to a rocket motor and stabilized in flight by some fins. Some types of RPGs are reloadable while others are single-use. RPGs, with the exception of self-contained versions, are loaded from the muzzle. RPGs are very effective against armored vehicles such as armored personnel carriers (APCs) and landed or hovering aircraft.
** The Remington Model 870 is a U.S.-made pump-action shotgun manufactured by Remington Arms Company, Inc. It is widely used by the public for sport shooting, hunting, and self-defense. It is also commonly used by law enforcement and military organizations worldwide.
*** Kulspruta 88's are the Swedish variant of the M2 Browning Machine Gun. The Browning .50 Caliber Machine Gun has been used extensively as a vehicle weapon and for aircraft armament by the United States from the 1920s to the present day. It was heavily used during World War II, the Korean War, the Vietnam War, as well as during operations in Iraq and Afghanistan in the 2000s. It is the primary heavy machine gun of NATO countries, and has been used by many other countries as well.
Well, don't I just sound like a war-freak? Haha.
Well, here is the long awaited 2nd chapter of "Love Is War". Took me long enough to write, huh?
