A/N: Surprise! Two chapters in one day. You'll be pleased to here there's an appearance from Bucky next chapter, but for now, it's still just Daphne and the 26th. :)
4 - New Orders
The next four weeks passed quickly, with the men training first in combat, then with guns. At the end of each fortnight another tournament was staged. The longest match was thirty-eight seconds long after the first, and just under a minute with the second.
The morning after that I gave the guys an extra hour to sleep before hauling them all out of bed. For the first time, all forty men were stood in front of me for a training session.
"Alright," I said loudly, "I've been doing some thinking lately-"
"Generally a good thing," Francis Gooding commented, and the rest laughed.
I mock-glared at him. "Mind your tongue, Gooding," I said sternly. "Otherwise next time my thinking might include ways to cut it off." The guys laughed again, knowing I wasn't being serious. Gooding was a decent bloke, really, he just liked the sound of his own voice a little too much. "Anyway, I realised that not all of you guys have really met each other yet while working. So, I had a stupidly strange thought yesterday that gave me an idea about how to introduce you all to each other, and to help you create ties with one another. Bonds are what turn a group of guys into a team. So, I spent a lot of last night looking at your files. And there are a few guys I'd like to come up to the front. These guys are Morrell, Carrick, Dwyer, Finn and Stoke." Said men exchanged glances as they moved to stand in a line beside me. I handed a sealed envelope to Dwyer. "Your first instruction is in this envelope. Every one of you is to help out. But these guys are your leaders." Everyone nodded, though many seemed confused still. "By the time you come back, hopefully you'll be better in tune with each other, and, if all goes to plan, you'll probably be hating me a bit more too. Off you go."
I stepped to the side as the men gathered around Dwyer to hear him read the first instruction. Then they moved off towards the running tracks.
Colonel Phillips, whose presence I noticed a few seconds before he was stood beside me, said lowly, "You're not going with them?"
"Nah - I trust them to do what they're supposed to. By my estimation this shouldn't take them any less time than an hour, so if they're back before then, chances are they've skipped a step or two."
"Why are they going to hate you?"
I chuckled. "Because one of their instructions is to write a song."
Phillips stared at me like I'd gone mad. "Why?"
"To get their minds in sync with one another," I said simply. "Men in the army spend a lot of their free time doing things like singing, either to distract themselves or just for enjoyment. Besides, one day it might come in handy. Maybe they'll be split up. It could help some of them find each other." I shrugged. "I know someone who was trained like this. He said it really helped him and many others through..." I trailed off, eyes widening. After James had told me about his trainer, I'd mostly forgotten about her. I figured she was probably dead and that, if she wasn't, she wouldn't remember him anyway. I never really registered everything. He'd called her Evie. Evie... as in a nickname for someone named Evelyn. Someone who was an unrelenting trainer for the army. Who didn't like following orders. Who told the men she trained to write songs. As I stood in silence, barely noticing the Colonel's curious look, I realised that the Evie James had told me about was me. It had to be. The similarities were too damn close to be coincidence.
Which meant I'd be forced to face him again, and be forced to admit to myself that I was meeting a stranger wearing a familiar face.
On the plus side, Bucky wouldn't be enlisted for another three to four years. So I had time to steel myself for the inevitable.
"Helped them through... what?" Phillips asked, drawing me back to reality.
I swallowed thickly. "Helped them through a really tough time," I answered. "Excuse me." And then I walked away, my mind still trying to digest everything it had just realised.
By the time the guys came back, they were singing a bouncy tune at the tops of their voices. I was standing where I'd been when they left, arms folded across my chest, an amused smile on my face.
The song came to a smooth ending as the guys lined themselves up in front of me.
There was a beat of silence. "Have fun?" I asked with a smirk.
"Could've been worse," came a reply from further down the line.
I chuckled. "Well, you guys were successful at least. Any problems?"
"Just Mallory's ass," Warren teased, and the guys laughed at Mallory, who in turn just rolled his eyes.
I chuckled. "Well, that's good to hear. I want you guys to memorise that song, and sing it as often as you can. One day, you might find its the only thing that keeps you sane. Especially if you've got someone like me to train you." They grinned at me, and I smiled back. "Now go grab a bite to eat or something," I said by way of dismissing them, and they instantly started chattering. They seemed in astoundingly high spirits, and I was glad to see it. I honestly thought they'd come back grumpy and irritated because of what they'd been directed to do, but apparently my idea had the opposite effect.
"Miss Moore?" I turned to see one of younger soldiers, who wasn't part of the forty under my command, standing nervously in front of me.
"What is it, kid?" I asked, pulling my short hair out of its hold and letting it swing around my shoulders.
"You're wanted in the command tent, ma'am."
I nodded. "Thanks for the message, soldier." He smiled slightly, before walking away. I headed instantly towards the tent. When I entered, there was a tall man who'd never been on the camp before (at least not while I was there) standing beside the Colonel. "You wanted to see me, sir?" I asked, standing with my back straight and my arms by my sides.
Colonel Phillips nodded. "Yes, I did. Miss Moore, this here is Lieutenant-Colonel Miller of Fort Hamilton Army Base."
I nodded. "Sir," I greeted curtly, and I got a sharp nod in return from the man, who looked to be about a decade younger than Phillips.
"You're being transferred, Moore," Phillips said, and instantly I stiffened.
"Transferred?"
"Yes," he said, moving towards the table in front of him and picking up a piece of paper. He held it out to me, and I hesitantly took it. "I had to inform a few others that you were here, since you were never officially hired by the army. Since then I've been giving bi-weekly updates on the progress of both you and your men. Everyone is very impressed."
"Then why am I being transferred?" I asked, eyes scanning over the paper, finding dates and something that looked suspiciously like a timetable of sorts, but no reasoning.
Phillips sighed. "The men you've been training here are being deployed," he said. "Under your tutelage, they've been developing their skills far faster than they were expected to, and we just got news that one of our lines is in need of additional support. Since they won't be here, you won't have anyone to train. So, Miller here asked to move you back to Fort Hamilton."
"Back?" I frowned.
"Hamilton was where you and I first met," he said vaguely, and I knew then that the details of my arrival were not widely known. I was grateful for that.
I shrugged. "I didn't look it up," I stated simply. I let out a sigh. "When are the guys being moved?"
"A week today. You'll be moved on the same day. Keep this up, Moore; don't let them slack off this last week. If anything, work them harder. They need to be fully prepared for what's to come."
Shaking my head, I told him, "Out there, they're going to see things that no training can prepare you for. Those guys are gonna look at the faces around them, and they'll immediately know that nobody expected anything like what they're going to face."
"Well, try to find a way to prepare them."
I clenched my jaw, but nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Once you arrive in New York, you'll be training the 69th Infantry Regiment," Miller said with a gruff voice, and I sent him a raised eyebrow in response.
"That's quite a famous group," I commented idly. Since joining the army I'd done a bit of research, and the 69th was known to many as the 'Fighting 69th', and had mostly been posted in France during the First World War.
Miller hummed. "Which is why you are needed," he said, and I gave him a look of confusion. Why me specifically? He gave me a rather poor attempt at a smile. "Every one of us agrees that your methods are somewhat unorthodox, however they have proven very effective. But also..."
I frowned. "What is it?"
Phillips sighed. "Europe is at war," he said simply. "If things go on as they did last time, it won't be long before we're in the same situation. We need as many trainers as possible, and if your methods are as successful every time as they have been this time, then we're going to have a formidable fighting force at our disposal."
I blinked a few times. I hadn't realised it was September already. "Europe is at war? Against whom?" I asked, feigning ignorance.
"Germany," Phillips answered. He shook his head. "For now, I want you to focus on getting the 26th as ready as they can get for the front line. Understood?"
"Of course," I said lowly. "Do you want me to break the news of their deployment as well?"
"That would be best," he replied, with a clear tone of dismissal in his voice. I nodded, glanced once more at Miller, only to see him staring at a map on the Colonel's table, then spun on my heel and left, mind reeling.
I walked towards the mess room in a kind of half-daze, following the sounds of my group's revelry. I stood in the doorway for a few minutes, watching them talk and laugh with a bittersweet smile on my face. Against all odds, I'd become close to those guys in the short time I'd been training them. Some more than others, but all of them could be called a friend. I was gonna miss them. I was gonna miss Abbott's joking complaints, and Gooding's constant need to talk, and Walsh's hysterical attempts at flirting with me, and, more than most, I was going to miss Tanner. He'd been a surprisingly constant presence by my side, and despite his buff outer appearance, he was a great guy on the inside. In a way, he reminded me a bit of Steve, though there was less of the patriotism (among other things).
"What you doin' hangin' in the shadows, boss?" Jeffreys called over the din. "Come join us."
I shook my head, stepping forward. "I have some news for you boys," I said, and suddenly the room fell dead silence. You could have heard a pin drop. I sighed. "You're being deployed," I told them.
Faces fell all across the room.
"When?" Alsworth asked.
"A week," I replied. "You're being sent off to support another group on the front line."
"What about you?"
"I'm being moved as well," I said. "Word about me gets around, apparently. I've been transferred to Fort Hamilton to train the 69th."
"Congrats, boss," Tanner said, raising a mug. "That's a tough group, I hear."
"I've heard the same," I murmured, slipping into a seat at the end of the table. "All the same, I'm gonna miss you bastards."
A few of them chuckled, while the rest cracked variously sized grins. "Aw, we're gonna miss you too, boss," Walsh said, wrapping an arm around my shoulder and giving me a one-armed hug. I batted him away, making the others laugh. "One day," Walsh said, "I'm gonna convince you to let me take you on a date."
"That one day's a long time coming, Walsh," I teased with a grin. "This lady here is already taken."
Many of the guys oohed, as if that was the juiciest piece of gossip they'd heard in a long time. Upon reflection, I figured that was probably the case. "So who's the lucky fella?" Jeffreys questioned with a crooked grin.
"No one you know I can assure you," I said quickly. "He and I were trained together."
"Isn't there a 'thing' where it's a stupid idea to date your workmates?" Hoffman asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
I scoffed. "To call him my workmate is a bit inaccurate," I told him. "Though we were partners for a long time."
"So, what's he like?"
And just like that, I froze. Talking about him being my partner was one thing. Talking about him was another entirely, as it turned out. Suddenly my throat tightened up, and a deep ache grew between my eyes. I shook my head. "I'd rather not talk about it," I murmured.
"Why? You end on a bad note?"
I snorted. "Not exactly. Last time I saw him was two and a half years ago," I informed them. "And I was shot. He probably thinks I'm dead."
"So why not go find him?"
"It's not that simple," I muttered. I stood up. "0700 tomorrow, gents. All of you."
As I walked away, I couldn't hold back the few tears that fell from my eyes. I thought being away from James would get easier over time, but the pain remained just as fresh as that first day. In fact, if anything, it had gotten worse. I didn't want to think about what he was doing back in 2014. I didn't want to think about him at all, because it just hurt that much more each time. I was going to have to wait 75 more years before I could see him again. I wasn't sure I could wait that long. For all my physical strength and bravado, I knew I was weak and broken on the inside.
As it turned out, even when I was far beyond their reach, Hydra was still destroying my life.
