Chapter 36: La Joie

"Fear!" Joy commanded. "Leave the pilot alone, and let him fly."

"Ah, but it's so much fun having a hostage," Fear sighed, lowering the crossbow.

"Oh, thank you, ma'am!" the pilot stammered. "I really wasn't going to do nothin' but…"

"Just concentrate on flying the damn plane," she said.

"Yes'm!"

"Fury, find his field dressing."

Joy unbuttoned a pocket on her pack and pulled out a vial of white powder styptic. Not even off the ground, and they already had to use it.

"Strap in, one and all," the pilot called. "We're lifting off."

Joy sighed, "Strap him in. I think he can survive a few more minutes."

Sorrow's eyelids drooped, and he shivered with each breath. At least he was breathing; David had missed his lungs.

Once the plane was level again, she lowered the shoulder of his flight suit. The cut wasn't too deep, and David hadn't hit an artery. It was just long, stretching from the left side of his collar bone to just below his right pectoral. He grunted in pain as she spread the antiseptic and styptic over the wound. She wrapped his dressing and another from her pack around his chest and kissed his neck.

"I've never gotten that kind of treatment," Fury said. "When I got shot with a fucking hollow point in Italy, you left me with Thor as my doctor."

The pilot sniggered. "So that pale chap's the father? I've been sayin' that if they're goin' to let women fight, they ought to - ."

"You ought to shut your mouth," Fear barked, "or I'll put a bolt through it, and the boss will fly the plane."

"Calm down, Fear," Joy sighed. "Get over here, and leave the pilot be. Sorrow, I have to go over our route with the pilot. You should rest. That harness is going to hurt like hell tonight."

"I will be fine if you will seal the wound… you know…" Sorrow pursed his lips into a silent kiss.

Joy gaped at him. "Really, Misha?" She smiled and kissed the bandage.

"You're a manipulative little shit," Fear whispered once Joy had taken his place in the cockpit.

"I learned from you," Sorrow said. He leaned his head against the back of his seat and smirked.

"How far to Mathieu?" Joy asked the pilot.

"It'll be about another four hours if we don't have to divert or anythin'. Night's pretty clear. It'll be good for navigating once we're over France. Flown a couple o' these spook missions before an' it can get mighty difficult if there are a lot of clouds."

Joy watched the moon run over the English Channel, chopped into glowing slivers by the waves. In only a few days, the invasion force would be cutting through that water, innumerable ships transporting troops and war machines to the coast of France. After three hours, Joy was the only Cobra still awake. The End slept in the same place he had been when Joy boarded, Pain snored with his head on his chest and his arms crossed, Sorrow's head rested on a snoozing Fury's shoulder, and Fear curled on the floor like a cat. If they were going to be alert for the jump, the Cobras needed to wake up now. The plane was already well over land.

"Everyone up!" Joy cried. "An hour left until we go!"

"Get the hell off me," Fury grumbled, pushing Sorrow as delicately as he could muster.

Sorrow was still whiter than usual, but no blood had soaked through his bandage. He would heal.

The plane flew higher now than over the Channel. With the blackouts, the cities were harder to spot at night, but their pilot navigated expertly by his compass.

Fury crouched in the cockpit behind the co-pilot's seat and watched the stars.

"What the fuck was that?" he shouted a few minutes later.

"The fuck was what?" Joy said sharply, turning around.

"A light. A bright-ass light passed over us. You saw it too, didn't you?" he asked the pilot.

The pilot sat dumbstruck at the controls. He nodded.

"What the hell was it?" Fury said.

"I – I couldn't guess. It was like a disc. With lights, lotsa lights. It – THERE!"

The light flew toward them, a small pinprick like a star and then suddenly on top of them, something like a red orb that glowed enough to blind them for an instant as it disappeared.

"What is that thing?" Pain shouted.

The orb hovered by the tail of the plane, keeping their speed.

"Let's just get the hell away from it," Joy said.

They dropped several feet and veered away, but the orb followed vigilantly, dancing around the tail like a ghost light over a marsh.

"You think it's an animal?" Pain asked.

"What? A fucking firebird?" Fury shouted.

"I just thought it moved like one…"

"It is not attacking us," Sorrow said.

"How do you know it won't?" Joy snapped.

"We cannot know, but we also cannot escape. If we go lower, we risk being spotted, correct? If we continue to run from it, we will not be paying attention when someone fires at our plane."

"Fuck," said the pilot.

"What now?" Joy asked.

"I – I thought it was fine at first, but every instrument in my panel is reading wrong. I know we're not this high, and even my compass switched directions."

"What direction were we going?"

"Southwest, but I turned to get away from it."

"We're going almost due west," Pain said.

"How'd you - ?"

"He's a mountain man. Trust him," Joy said.

The orb trailed them for another ten seconds before it darted back into the sky and winked out between the stars.

"You sure it's going to be safe to jump?" Fear asked when it was gone.

"Shit, Fear, it's never safe to jump," Fury said.

"I'm perfectly fine with goin' back to England," the pilot stammered. "Quite perfectly fine."

"We'll continue on to Mathieu," Joy said firmly.

"Hey, you have the final say, ma'am, but don't be sayin' I didn't offer to take you back."

"This mission is worth more than your life, kid," she said though the pilot was probably several years older. "If you didn't drop us at Mathieu, I would not hesitate in killing you and taking the controls myself. And a bit of advice for the future – stop calling me 'ma'am'."

"Yes, sir," the pilot replied. "Beginning a descent to the supply drop at Rouen."

They passed low enough over the Seine that Joy saw the plane's reflection on the water, and then they turned sharply north. Across the river from Rouen, four people with electric torches waited in a field. The Cobras pushed four massive barrels out the back of the plane and watched as the parachutes attached popped open. So close to the invasion, the supplies would be guns and explosives for sabotage missions, similar to the drop Parasite's circuit would have gotten earlier that week.

They continued along the Seine until the sea loomed again only a few miles north. The pilot avoided Caen by flying over the Channel for a few miles, and then they were pulling on helmets and harnesses. The End saw the lights first, his sharp old eyes spotting the formation of electric torches that marked their drop zone. The pilot climbed again and cut the engines.

"You first, Fear," Joy said.

"Ladies first. I insist," he said with a bow.

Normally she would have gone first, but she had a suspicion that Fear was planning something.

"We're here," the pilot called.

"Go, Fear," Joy said.

"We don't know what's out there."

"Fucking jump, Fear!" Fury shouted.

"We don't have all night," yelled the pilot.

"Hate to do this, you little shit," Fury muttered. He took Fear by the shoulders and shoved him out of the plane. Then he followed.

Pain gave a salute and jumped like a boy doing a cannonball into a lake. The End went after him, rifle slung across his back.

"Are you going to be okay?" Joy asked the Sorrow who was standing at the door.

"Of course," he said, and he let his body fall. She thought she heard him groan in pain when his parachute opened.

The plane rumbled off toward England, and six dark parachutes drifted over France. There were nothing but fields under them, but villagers defying the blackout marked small towns nearby. Joy saw one parachute drop into the field near the torch lights, then another – Fear and Fury. With a rushing sound, the wind caught her parachute. She was at least another fifty feet from the ground, so she let it carry her over a sprouted wheat field far from the others. The ground was harder than she had expected, and her extra weight made the fall painful. Joy gathered the parachute as the child inside her kicked in protest.

The drop zone was over a small rise, and she hurried across the wheat, not caring if she trampled any. Someone came toward her over the rise, and she drew her pistol. A figure with a feminine gait ran across the field, burdened by a long skirt. When she saw Joy, the figure dropped her hands to her knees and panted.

"Glad…," she gasped. "Glad I found you."

Joy did not lower his pistol. "Who are you?"

The woman stood, and Joy saw a red carnation in her lapel. She also saw that the woman was very beautiful – curved like a violin and wearing a purple jacket that complimented her dark hair.

"Where did the snakes go when they were driven from Ireland?" the woman asked.

"We came to France," Joy answered. "I am the Joy."

"I am Le Feu," the woman replied in French.

The Fire. Good enough name for the Cobra Unit, Joy thought.

"None of them will say a word to us," a curly-haired man said to Le Feu as she and Joy approached.

"Good," Joy said. "You can speak freely now, Cobras."

"Finally," Fear mumbled.

"That's the Fear," Joy told Le Feu. "The old one's the End. The tall one is the Pain. There's the Fury with the big bag. Sorrow is the pale one."

"Everyone come with me!" Le Feu shouted. "We've made a lot of noise. Let's get the Cobras to Parasite. Quickly, now."

"So you're the Cobra Unit?" the curly-haired man asked breathlessly.

"Casse-toi," Fury muttered.

"Fury, be nice," Pain said. "He doesn't mean it."

"Of course not!" The boy had not lost his excitement. "You're the Pain, right? Well, I'm Sébastien, but my code name is Pierre, so call me that. The Pain is a much better code name. La Douleur sounds strange as a code name, but La Peine would be good, though very close to yours - ."

"Would you shut up, kid?" Fury growled

"What did he say?"

"He thinks that your code name is fine as it is," Pain lied.

"Oh, good! Le Feu gave it to me. She's ever so pretty. Well, your commander is pretty too, but I see that she's pregnant – I didn't expect that! I didn't expect a woman at all, in fact…"

"Pain, what's he saying?" Fear hissed.

"A bunch of bullshit about the Joy being pretty," Fury answered. "What the hell's with the Sorrow?"

Sorrow was still as scenery on Fear's left. He looked too uncomfortable to be asleep.

"Hey, Sorrow," Fear whispered with a nudge.

"Mmm?" Sorrow's pupils widened instantly from tiny dots when he opened his eyes.

"Oh, the Sorrow!" Pierre cried. "I've heard of him. He's a medium, right? Like he can talk to dead people? My mother thinks I might be psychic because once, when my dog ran away, I…"

"Is everything alright?" Fear asked.

"No," Sorrow replied. "It is very not alright."

"Aw, shit," Fury groaned. "What is it?"

"I cannot. Not here."

"You can tell us. The kid's mostly harmless. Hell, I don't even think he understands English."

"This is a matter… I must… Joy must know as soon as possible."

"How far to meet Parasite?" Joy asked. Her French was out of practice, so she spoke slowly.

"Four or five miles," Le Feu answered. "Why?"

"I did not expect to go so far from Mathieu."

"That is where we have your explosives, mademoiselle. We would not carry them to your drop zone."

"I'm surprised Parasite did not come to meet us."

"She is a suspicious one, Le Feu," the driver, a graying man called Clement, laughed.

"Parasite is suspicious too, La Joie. He does not go to meet agents."

"If he had known La Joie was a woman, he might have come," Clement chuckled. "Imagine my own surprise when Le Feu comes over the hill with a lovely vision like you. I am in shock that they let you come to France at all being that you are…"

"That is unimportant," Joy snapped. She disliked him, especially the way he lifted his hands from the steering wheel to gesture as he spoke.

"Silence is prudence, Clement," Le Feu said. "Heaven knows I would lead a charge with a child on each hip if it meant my country's freedom."

The car ahead of them, headlights off, turned suddenly down a gravel road under a canopy of trees. Le Feu's car passed the road without slowing.

"Aren't we following them?" Joy asked.

"They have to get a few things from the barn," Le Feu said. "We'll meet them at the farmhouse."

"They aren't following us," Fear said.

"Hey, Pierre," Pain translated. "The other car isn't following."

"Right," Pierre answered hesitantly. "We have to pick some stuff up."

The barn was big and ramshackle, held up as much by the trees that grew against it as its own timbers. Pierre heaved against a heavy metal door until it slid open.

"Pain, Fury, and Fear, I need you each to take one of those." He pointed to three large bundles lying on the dirt floor. "Take them down the hill to that yellow house with the candle in the window. Le Feu should be there when you arrive."

"Shit, these things are heavy," Fury grunted as he hefted one of the bundles.

Pain lifted his effortlessly. "At least we're going downhill with them."

Fear breathed deeply with his nostrils flared.

"Camphor," he said.

"For keeping moths away, I'll bet," Pain replied.

"Sorrow," Pierre said, "I'll need your help moving these boxes into the car."

"What did he say?" Sorrow asked Pain.

"He needs your help moving boxes to his car. I can't keep translating, so you'll just have to figure it out," Pain sighed, and with a grunt, he ducked through the door.

Pierre pointed to a stack of wooden crates labeled for vegetables and then to his car. Sorrow nodded and lifted one. It was heavier than he had expected, and the contents clinked metallic against one another. As he set the crate in the back seat, he heard a voice. It was low and immediate, and he knew it was a dead voice because, though it spoke French, he understood. It was the same man he had heard in Pierre's car.

"Careful," it hissed.

Is there something dangerous in the box?

"It's just bullets. Be careful about Pierre. He just put a rag soaked in ether into his pocket."

The house was a two-story clapboard in yellow with white trimming the curtained windows. They reflected the sky glowing with moonlight like the backdrop of a shadow play. The soft clap of the car door behind Joy echoed like a rifle shot in the silence. Le Feu knocked at the front door, painted white but warped and peeling from neglect. A delicate young woman in an unflattering copper dress answered. She motioned everyone into a brightly-lit dining room with a long table built from halved logs and a many-armed hanging candelabra fitted with electric bulbs. In the indoor light, Joy saw that Le Feu's dark hair was not brown but inky black, and her skin was almost as pale as Sorrow's.

The young woman at the door, who had scampered away when they entered, returned with two men. One was broad-shouldered and slightly cross-eyed, and the other was small with a round, creamy face and narrow, almond-shaped eyes. He was Chinese.

"My name," he said in unaccented French, "is Parasite. I assume there are more of you, though I hope they are less disappointing than an old man and a pregnant girl."

"I am the Joy," Joy answered, fighting the insults that threatened to voice themselves, "and this is the End, an excellent sniper, perhaps the best in the world."

The End had chosen a seat at the table and was already snoring.

"Your French is terrible," Parasite snapped. He dropped into the chair at the head of the table. "Dandelion, get us some cold chicken for dinner. There are – " he counted on his hand – "five more coming."

Dandelion, the woman in copper, curtsied graciously and left.

"We hate to refuse your hospitality, but we already ate. We should be almost to Ryes by morning, so it would be best if - ," Joy said.

"I insist that you have dinner," Parasite said tersely.

"And I insist that you give us the supplies you are keeping and send your soldiers with us to run the radios."

"Ah, well I'm afraid you will have to wait. I am going too, and I have anticipated dinner with you all evening. You cannot leave until I've had my fill."

"Where are the supplies?"

"Please sit, La Joie. You should put less strain on your body."

"The supplies, Parasite."

He sighed. "Pierre and the rest of your men are bringing them."

"And all of you know how to use the Nazi radios?" She was still standing over him like a gargoyle over the entrance to a cathedral.

"We know how to operate them, yes. Captured one a month ago. The medium will give us the encryption, of course."
Her stony eyes narrowed. "What do you know about him?"

"Open the goddamn door!" a voice shouted from outside.

"Le Feu, answer the door, and tell the brute to keep quiet," Parasite growled.

Joy heard the Fury grumble when Le Feu told him to carry something into the dining room, and then he, the Pain, and the Fear tromped in with cloth-covered bundles that shook the room when they hit the floor. The smell of camphor filled the room.

"Where's the Sorrow?" Joy asked.

"With Pierre still," Pain replied. "They're loading the car."

"Well, men," Parasite said with a smile, "sit down for a little dinner."

Pain translated to the other two.

"I know what the hell he said," Fury grunted.

Fear said, "Sounds pretty good to me," and sat beside the End.

"You will not tell my men to do anything!" Joy shouted into Parasite's startled face. "This is my unit, and they take orders from me!"

"It's funny that they listened to me," Parasite chuckled nervously.

"I won't be having dinner, Mister…," Pain said. "What's his name?"

"Parasite," Le Feu hissed.

"What's going on?" asked Fear. "I'm getting the impression that I won't be eating."

"No shit," Fury muttered.

"Now," Joy said, quiet but menacing. "Where are the explosives?"
"I'll take you," Parasite said faintly. "Come, Clement."

"Fury, you'd better come too," Joy said.

"Actually, mademoiselle, Parasite and I have some information for you that cannot be given in front of anyone else," Clement said.

"This is my unit."

"Those were our orders, La Joie," said Parasite.

"Fine." Joy loosened the clasp on her holster when they turned away to lead her into another room.

Parasite opened a narrow door that could have been a closet. A set of cramped stairs led to a dark hallway, and Joy wrapped her fingers around the handle of her knife. Parasite clicked on an electric torch and led them by its light to an open door. As they entered, Joy saw a heavy bolted lock. With a match, Parasite lit the kerosene sconce, and a tiny bedroom in provincial blue appeared from the darkness. There were no windows, but the cream-colored wall made the room a little more cheerful. A wash basin sat on a wicker stand, and rose petals floated in the water.

"La Joie, you can come in," Parasite said as he knelt to look under the bed.

She crossed the room cautiously, eyes on Parasite and ears on Clement. She heard a faint brushing sound – Clement raising his arm, and she swung her left arm back to catch him if he grabbed for her. His hand closed on air where her shoulder hand been. As her hand found his bicep, Joy saw Parasite spring to his feet. She threw Clement to the stone floor and missed the back of Parasite's shirt as he spun to the door and slammed it.

"What the hell are you doing, Parasite?" Joy shouted through the thick door.

"La Joie," his muffled voice said. "Please understand that we weren't trying to hurt you. Let me assure you that you're much safer here."

"That's not the… goddamn point," she sighed, but she knew he had gone back up the stairs.

Historical Notes:

The styptic is a reference to the Cure screen in Metal Gear Solid 3. Powder styptic was used to stop a wound from bleeding in the field. A soldier's field dressing would usually be kept on his person in a small pocket.

This strange appearance of what seems to be a UFO will be important later, but it IS historically accurate. A phenomenon called "foo fighters" was common during missions over France and Germany in late 1944. Pilots saw fast-moving lights following their planes. While the cause of these lights was never determined with any real certainty, their appearances are rather well-documented.

The Seine is a major river through France.

"Casse-toi" means basically "fuck off" in French.

Parasite's Resistance members are all using code names, which was common at the time to protect their identities while they talked about one another.