Summary: Charise Raquin is posing as her brother, Micah, in the war so he didn't have to leave his family. When she gets moved to a new squad with a new mission, she thinks it's going to be routine-when in reality, it's anything but. Faced with new friendships, the death of a close friend, and her secret possibly being exposed; Charise has to decide if this is really the place for her-not to mention, she has to make sure Saving Private Ryan isn't the last thing she ever does.
Author's Note: I've been sick, so these will probably come out a bit slow Rate&Review please(:
"Damn it! Where'd that come from?" Horvath questioned, looking around.
"He was on the ground before we heard the shot!" Jackson shouted back, before looking about as well. His eyes locked on a church tower, and he readied his gun "That's where'd I be. I didn't see it, but I could guess. Four hundred fifty yards, Captain. Maybe a shade under. I wouldn't venture out there, fellas! This sniper's got talent."
Jackson headed around some more debris, taking up position next to a large pile of rubble. He lay down, situating his gun so that the muzzle of it pointed straight at the tower. Jamming his helmet down on his head, he looked through the eye piece, trying to get a clear aim at the figure he was sure was hiding in the tower.
Caparzo looked at us, his voice shaking. "Captain!" he called, trying to escape his position out in the open.
"Hold on, Caparzo," Miller called, willing him to stay still-and Jackson to hurry.
"Help me up. I can walk. I can walk!" he shouted, a bit of anxiety edging into his voice. He was frantic, now; he must have known death was a likely possibility.
I still held the girl, who was crying more now. She clutched the rosary tightly in one hand, her face buried into my chest-she must have sensed I wanted to help her. I patted her on the back, trying to calm her echoing cries.
"Caparzo, stay still!" Wade ordered. It was evident the medic wanted to make his way out there to him, but Caparzo was fading fast. I knew that Wade felt a sort of duty to protect us all and keep us safe; but him dying right about now wouldn't exactly do the squad a lot of good.
Wade cried out, "Captain, can you see him from there? How is he? Is he alright?"
"Wade, you stay put!" Miller ordered, giving him a serious glare. Obviously, the Captain and I were on the same wavelength.
"Where's he shot, Captain?" Wade continued, starting to get up. "Captain, can you see them from there?"
"YOU STAY THERE!"
"Damn it, stay down! What's the matter with you?" Mellish shouted, grabbing the back of Wade's pack and pulling him down into a sitting position.
"Caparzo, don't move. Put your head down. Put your head down!" Wade ordered, knowing the Sniper was still out there.
Caparzo was to preoccupied to listen, obviously. He reached into his jacket, searching for something, and pulled a letter out of his jacket. "Copy it. Copy it and send it for me," he begged somebody, waving it towards us.
"Carpy, you're gonna send it yourself. Put it down!" Mellish told him, staring at him with worried eyes.
Caparzo was still panicking, however, and took a deep breath. "It's got blood on it! It's- It's- It's to my dad. It's got blood on it."
"Caparzo…just hold on a second longer," somebody called, and I didn't bother trying to see who it was. I squeezed my eyes shut tight, hoping that he would somehow make it through this. He was just trying to save a little girl! He didn't deserve to die.
After a moment of silence, I heard footsteps on the rubble and a quick 'Got 'em' as Jackson made his way back over to us. It was like somebody has pressed play on a formerly paused movie; all of a sudden, everyone shot up and ran over to Caparzo.
Mellish reached his old friend first, and looked down. "How bad is he?" Wade reached him second, already taking his pack off of his back and preparing to patch him up. "Chest, maybe lung shot."
I watched, worried, my heart beating a mile a minute. I felt shell shocked as Wade pulled a blanket out, and set it down over him. It was so fast-in a matter of five minutes, a bright life had faded out, and I could do nothing but sit there and watch. I swallowed back a lump in my throat, and looked at the girl, who peered up now that all the noises had ceased.
I pulled the rosary out of her hand and set her down, allowing her to run back herself to her parents. Although I knew that it wasn't her fault, at this moment, the girl disgusted me-she didn't give a damn about the soldier who now lay dead on the ground, even though he sacrificed his life to try and help her out.
The thought made me sick to my stomach.
I made my way out towards the others, shaking my head solemnly as we all just looked at the figure under the blanket. I leaned down, setting the rosary on his chest, and straightened back up without a word.
"This is why we can't take children," Miller said venomously, as he reached under the blanket and ripped Caparzo's dog tags off. I looked away as he started to rattle off orders.
"Sergeant Horvath, do an ammo check. Upham, Raquin…canteens. Fill 'em up. Mellish, check the tower, hustle back here. Right now. Go!"
I did the assigned task with Upham almost soundlessly, neither of us bothered to try and start a conversation. The sense of loss still hung heavily in the air, and we figured talking about it wouldn't help any-in fact, it would probably make the situation worse. Soon enough, we came back, and redistributed the canteens to our men. Moments later, we were on the move again, Caparzo's body a distant figure in the clearing behind us.
Rounding another corner, I almost ran into the man in front of me as we spotted a rifle sticking out of the wall.
"Thunder!"
"Flash!"
It seemed we had finally crossed paths with the other half of the American unit stationed here, and I couldn't be more relieved. Maybe, just maybe, this would heighten our chances some-I wasn't much for taking risks as is, but the fact one of our men had already died made me think twice about each step forward I took. However, I was to far in to give up just yet. There was no going back-it was press on, or die. The image of myself being looked at as we had just looked at Caparzo made me shudder, and continue on nearly glued to Jackson's side.
"You okay, kid?" he asked, clearly sensing my discomfort. I gave a bit of a noncommittal shrug, before voicing the matter. "It's just…when we landed on Omaha Beach and all the men died there, it didn't hit as hard as Caparzo's death just did. Maybe it's the fact a smaller squad makes it easier to connect. I didn't know Caparzo well, but…it felt like I did."
"Hmph," Jackson murmured, before looking about cautiously. "Seems like Upham might've been onto something, with the talk about those 'bonds of brotherhood' and all," he said, and I nodded quickly. Yeah, maybe he did know what he was talking about.
There was a rush of people, crews regrouping, and I stood still next to Jackson. Wade had come over, and the two exchanged some rushed words, before the medic wandered off again-presumably to find the Captain.
Despite our large numbers with both squadrons combined, I still felt ill at ease-exposed, like it would be easy for Germans to pick us off one by one. I glanced over at the other Sergeant who was with us, who was complaining about a pain in his foot. "Oh, let me get this hitchhiker out of my boot!" he said, before moving over to a pile of rubble.
The rubble rested against and old house, and as the Sergeant sat back, a plank from behind him fell and smacked into the wall. It was like watching a domino effect, or something of the sort-all of a sudden, the bricks started to cave inwards. Seconds later, the wall collapsed and a pile of dust shot up. When the dust started to settle, it was easy to see the German soldiers watching us with wide eyes in the now destroyed room.
Simultaneously, everybody reached for their weapons, American and German alike. The tension was thick in the air, for clearly neither side wanted to suffer losses or be the first to shoot. Suddenly both sides began to yell.
"Drop your weapons!"
"Nicht! Stellen Sie Ihre Waffen hin!"
"Drop 'em now!"
"Nicht!"
"Drop the fucking weapons!"
"Stellen Sie Ihre Waffen hin!"
"I'll shoot you! I'll shoot ya! I'll shoot you!"
Only one German managed to get a shot off, before the rumble of a machine gun sent bullets whizzing past us and flying towards the enemy line. Every single one of them fell, and as the bullets shot into the furniture as well, wood splintered and flew out everywhere. I felt a pain in my side, but brushed it off as a simple piece of debris flying past.
We glanced up to see who had come to our aid, and saw some more of our men up top-but none I recognized.
"Fred Hamill, Pathfinders 101st," the one man greeted.
"John Miller, 2nd Rangers. Thank you. We're here looking for a Private James Ryan, he's part of your outfit. Any chance at all you policed him up?" Miller asked, not sure of the answer he would find.
"Uh, sir…?" Upham began, but Miller cut him off. "Not now, Upham."
"How was the road in?" Hamill asked Miller. "Scenic. We lost most of our ammo. Not to mention one of our men."
"Captain!" Upham said, a bit more urgently.
"I said not now, Upham!" Miller reprimanded, before looking back to Hamill.
"Lieutenant, re-deploy that bazooka to the right side of the road. And get Ryan up here." Hamill shouted, watching as his orders were carried out.
"Yes, sir! Ryan! Ryan, front and center! Ryan!"
As we waited, Upham spoke-surprisingly-roughly to Miller. "Captain, it's important!"
Miller turned to look at him, clearly unhappy with the many interruptions that had hit him thus far. He was almost at his breaking point. "Fine, what, Upham?"
Upham's tone returned to his rather soft, hesitant one. "Uh, it's-it's Raquin, sir. He's been hit."
I looked over at the others, who were all staring at me. I looked down at my side, and as my eyes landed on the tattered shirt, I felt the pain hit. I suppose maybe it was because I hadn't been paying attention to it, I hadn't felt it-but now, I sure as hell felt it. I gripped my side with my hand, biting my lower lip, and Wade made his way over to me.
"Hey, Micah, come on, we're gonna get you out of here. Come on, this house right here. I'll fix you up in there," he said, pulling me towards the structure. I followed him inside, and he made a turn off of the main room into a different one.
It was a bedroom, and he pulled off his pack as I made my way over onto the bed. I laid down, trying to make sense of what was going on. And to wrap the wound…
"No, I'm-I'm sure it's fine," I told him, eyes steely and hard. Wade looked at me like I was stupid. "Don't be ridiculous, Raquin. It might not be deep, but it could be infected without cleaning. I don't care if I have to knock you out, I'm cleaning you up."
"No, really, Wade-I'll be okay…"
"Raquin!" He said, cutting me off. "Just shut up. You're getting patched up, whether you like it or not."
With that, I closed me eyes, and succumbed to my fate.