(AN: Apologies for this taking so long. Work got busy, then the holidays hit, and COVID hasn't exactly been conducive to creative writing, but here we are, getting closer to the end. Well, I know this story has dragged on, but I promise the payoff is coming :) And also I'm happy for the continued interest in it, it does help drive the creative juices. I've had some feedback that the 'Damned' haven't had enough screen time, so all of you who've asked will be happy to know that they're a lot more prominent in this chapter and the next...)

(Joutenheimen Mountains, 1,200 feet from Galdhøpiggen Peak, 22:18 hours local time)

"Goddammit, this fuckin' weather sucks!"

SGT Barrigan cursed to himself as he trudged through the snow-packed trail that led to the mountain's peak. He and the rest of Kilo Company's contingent had been climbing the mountain since early morning, only pausing briefly to eat their cold weather rations. He glanced back at PFC Cooper, who, like the sergeant, was bundled up in cold weather gear, his scarf completely covering his face.

"How we doin' Coop?"

The private shifted the Scout Tactical strapped on his back.

"Never thought I'd be missing heat and sand in Dubai, sar'ent."

A low chuckled steamed through Barrigan's scarf, but ended abruptly as if the mirth froze along with his breathe. The reason was obvious, their op leader, Lt. Perkins was struggling to keep up. Behind the young officer Prince Hans and his men, whom Kilo was acting as 'military advisors' to, were at least fifty feet to the rear and falling behind rapidly. The sergeant frowned and turned to Cooper.

"How much further to the objective?"

The private reached into one pouch on his black plate carrier and checked a small handheld device. Its screen cast an unearthly green glow over the young soldier's balaclava-covered face as he replied.

"Dagger's says we're still about 2 klicks from target."

Their conversation was interrupted by a droning/chopping noise above them. Overhead, an AH-J6 'Little Bird' with welded-on armor and an upside-down American Flag painted on its fuselage flew past in a figure-8 formation. PFC Cooper continued.

"Sar'ent, at this rate we're not gonna reach the objective in time..."

SGT Barrigan glanced back at the struggling soldiers that were Prince Hans' men. Still wearing stiff woolen topcoats in bright red with fancy epaulettes and tall bearskin-covered helms, they struggled and slipped in the snow as their boots and uniforms were more suited for a parade ground than a winter ruck. As Freebird flew past a second time, the sergeant noticed the wind had died down, and the clouds parted, revealing a full moon. The moon's light lit up the mountainside, and revealed a tall sparkling crystalline castle in the distance.

Barrigan pulled down his scarf and removed his heavy woolen cap, stashing both in his pack. He then unclipped his Kevlar from his belt and secured it to his bald head. He looked back at Cooper, who also saw the castle. Cooper's face was still concealed by his scarf, but Barrigan knew the private was grinning.

"Alright Big Mac! Let's go kill us an Ice Witch!"

He charged ahead, running past Barrigan, who gave an evil smile as he called up to the private rushing up the mountain path.

"Whoa there, Whopper Junior! Save some pussy for the rest of us!"

The sergeant was still shaking his head and grinning as Lt. Perkins caught up to him, puffing and out of breathe.

"What's the sitch, sergeant?"

Barrigan racked a round into his combat shotgun and pointed it to the castle in the distance.

"Tango in sight, sir."

The lieutenant gave an unprofessional whoop of savage joy as he unslung his FN F2000 rifle.

"Hot damn I get to use this bad boy!'

He pulled down the NODs on his helmet and skulked forward, doing a bad impression of an operator from a Call of Duty video game. Barrigan watched the lieutenant and muttered to himself.

"Roger that, High Speed."

The sergeant then turned and called down to Hans and his men.

"Hey! You overdressed pretty boys better pick up the pace, or there ain't gonna be any glory for you or your pretty cracker prince!"

Prince Hans was the first to reach Barrigan, who paused to catch his breathe.

"I...I would very much appreciate it if you would not insult me in front of my men."

The prince regained his composure and drew himself up.

"I am after all royalty and will be ruling Arendelle, after this...matter is taken care of."

Barrigan listened to the prince with barely disguised contempt.

"Yeah, sure whatever. Just tell your men not to run in front my men. Once we engage that witch, they're all cleared hot, an' your men are expendable."

Prince Hans ignored the veiled threat and continued past Barrigan.

"Oh, by the way, I have a great rapport with that officer Lt. Perkins, it would be a shame if I were to be derogatory of your performance in this skirmish after the fact..."

The prince left Barrigan without another word, but the sergeant was unfazed. He pulled out his pack of cigarettes from a pouch pocket and stuck one in his lips. As he started up the mountain and lit it, he could still see the prince marching alongside Lt. Perkins. A peal of laughter broke the night air as Barrigan took a deep drag. He exhaled.

"Too bad Prince Dumbass doesn't realize High Speed isn't runnin' the show."

He took another drag from his cigarette as Barrigan's eyes drifted briefly towards the audience, before turning his attention back to the prince.

"Though it doesn't surprise me those two get along. Great minds think alike, takes a retard to know one."

With that he finished his smoke and flicked but away, double timing it up the mountain to catch up with Cooper.

(Meanwhile, at that moment)

Elsa's eyes widened.

"You mean...you're from another world?"

Lt. Bradley shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but it had nothing to do with the fact that the bench was made of solid ice.

"More like another time, but yeah. About three centuries into the future to be precise, and another world to boot."

The Queen of Arendelle was in shock at the lieutenant's revelation. She couldn't believe that such a thing could be possible, and yet as she stared at Bradley it made sense. His mossy colored uniform that was made of tiny geometric patterns, his boots that were finely crafted, even his weapon which looked more sleek and short than any musket in her royal guards, everything pointed to him being from another time, another world. And yet, her rational brain rebelled against such a notion.

Elsa shook her head.

"But that's impossible!"

Bradley leaned in and grinned.

"Um, yeah...and a girl who can conjure up ice and snow with the flick of a wrist is normal?"

That earned a small giggle from her, when she looked up Elsa saw how close the young officer was to her. Impulsively she leaned in and kissed Bradley. The shock of having a set of soft lips touch his threw the lieutenant off, then the queen put her hand on Bradley's chest for support as she continued to kiss him.

A blast of ice struck Lt. Bradley and sent him flying back. He hit a pillar nearby with the force of a freight train, which cracked under his weight as he slid down to the ground. He was groaning and pushing himself up as Elsa ran over to him, horrified.

"Eric! Are you alright?!"

Bradley pulled himself to his feet with her help with an embarrassed grin on his face.

"Wow, that kiss packed quite a punch..."

Elsa's horror and concern drained away as her perfect brow furrowed. She half-heartedly punched him on his arm.

"Don't do that Eric! You scared me!"

She watched as he checked his gear and weapon, and when she spoke, it was tinged with worry.

"You...you sure you're alright, Eric?"

Bradley finished checking his M4 and shrugged.

"Yeah, it's okay. I've been hit by ice before."

He glanced down at his armored vest.

"Of course, I was in the 3rd grade when it happened, and it wasn't quite like this."

He rapped the the chest plate of his PALS vest with his knuckles, and it made a solid 'Thump!'.

"Fortunately these Sapi trauma plates will stop anything short of armor piercing rifle rounds, so other than bruised butt I'm fine."

Elsa lowered her head.

"I-its just I made that same mistake with Anna many years ago, and she almost died as a result!"

"Hey, it's alright..."

A gloved hand gently took her chin and when she raised her gaze Bradley was grinning at her.

"Now, if I remember right, you were in the process of kissing me, you ready to give it another go?"

Elsa smiled and leaned in to his face, closing her eyes. She heard a hissing noise and looked up. There was her henchman Marshmallow, the giant abominable snowman whom Bradley recognized as his captor earlier. The giant snowman growled something that he couldn't make out, but based off of Elsa's expression, she could.

"He is here? With armed men?!"

Bradley looked puzzled.

"He who?"

He saw the snow queen's fair features crease into a frown.

"Prince Hans, that slimy snake who seduced my younger sister Ana...He's here to get rid of me!"

Ice crystals were already forming around her hands as Elsa spoke, but they faltered as she felt a gloved hand take hers.

"Don't worry Elsa..."

Elsa's eyes regarded Bradley, for a brief moment those blue eyes softened as she regarded the young officer. Then they hardened, and were as cold as the ice around her. She let out a bitter laugh.

"Worry? Those fools can't harm me! I will destroy them!"

But again, her laughter was cut short as she felt the gloved hand squeeze hers gently. Bradley was still grinning as he spoke.

"Hey, nobody said you needed help..."

He unslung his M4 and pulled back the charging handle.

"...But helping you stay alive is part of my mission, and I intend to Charlie Mike."

Bradley saw the puzzled expression on Elsa's face.

"Er, it means I'm going to finish this."

Then suddenly there was a loud crackling hiss, followed by a distorted voice.

"…repeating, this is Misfit Three transmitting in the blind for Misfit One, if copy switch to channel four, over."

Elsa was shocked to hear another's voice.

"Where is that coming from?"

But Bradley doesn't respond, and quickly he pulled his radio out.

"Misfit Three, this is Misfit One, I authenticate IFF Romeo Foxtrot, Echo Bravo Six, Zero, Fife, Niner, over."

He heard Sgt. Torrez's chuckle through the static.

"Good to hear your voice again, sir. What's your sitch?"

He glanced over to Elsa, who was puzzled by the cryptic messaging.

"Ah, Misfit Three, be advised I have located HVP."

"And you're not captured or under duress?"

Bradley saw the pouting expression on Elsa's face, clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

"Ah, that's a negative on the capture, the duress bit remains to be seen."

"Roger that, Misfit Two, is your poz secure?"

Bradley shrugged as he keyed the mic.

"Ah, sure? According to Elsa's pet abominable snowman there's baddies inbound, I do not have eyes on so I cannot confirm."

There was a pause, then Sgt. Torrez came through again on the radio.

"Ah, Misfit One, be advised I can confirm enemy QRF inbound to the ice castle."

"Misfit two, what enemy QRF's ETA?"

"Be advised, enemy QRF is less than 5 mikes..."

"Shit!" Bradley cursed.

He glanced about the ice castle's ballroom. Off one wall was a set of double doors that opened to a large porch. It wasn't big enough to land a helicopter, but it did give the lieutenant an idea. Bradley keyed his mic.

"Misfit Three, do you have backup?"

"That's an affirmative, sir. What's your plan?"

PFC Cooper repressed a shiver as he felt the cold seep into his boots. Both he and SGT Barrigan had taken up defensive positions in a deep snowbank less than fifty feet from the ice castle's main entrance, and thus far had encountered no resistance. But it didn't make Cooper feel any better, or less cold. He glanced over to Barrigan, and saw the frown creasing his NCO's dark features. Far from putting the 'Damned' sergeant at ease, the quiet and lack of resistance made him all the more tense. The sergeant turned his attention back to his sniper, who was scanning the turrets for targets, and the NCO could tell that the private was as tightly coiled as he was. He heard Lt. Perkins speak up in a loud stage whisper.

"Any contact, sergeant?"

The sergeant glared back at Perkins, who was standing up in the open.

"No, sir. But it would behoove you to fall back into cover, it could be an ambush."

Perkins, as if suddenly realizing it, threw himself down into the snow. He then raised his head and spoke much softer.

"Ah, SGT. Barrigan, Prince Hans and his men are getting antsy, they want you to give the go ahead..."

Barrigan scoffed.

"To do what? Storm the castle, like in the movies?"

The lieutenant shrugged, the gesture causing the snow around him to crunch.

"Well, yes."

The 'Damned' sergeant stood up and dusted the snow off his clothes.

"Y'know what? Fine. If Prince Cracker an' his posse want to be the breachers and bullet sponges, I ain't losing any sleep over it."

He motioned Perkins to get up.

"Go tell Prince Hans the the honor of capturing the Ice Witch is his...assuming his stupid cracker ass survives."

Perkins, not catching onto the sarcasm in Barrigan's voice, rushed down to tell the prince the good news. Prince Hans and his men, upon hearing this, wasted no time rushing up the snowy embankment to the castle's entrance. Perkins rejoined his fellow soldiers of Kilo Company, and watched as the armed men smashed down the doors. Barrigan, for his part just lit another cigarette. He glanced over and saw the look PFC Cooper was giving giving Hans' retreating form. He took a drag and gave the private's shoulder a reassuring pat.

"Take it easy, Coop. You're get a shot at that Ice Witch before the night's over."

As he spoke he heard Miller's voice come through the radio.

"Big Mac, this is Freebird, do you copy?"

Barrigan grabbed his radio and keyed the mic.

"Freebird, this is Big Mac, go ahead."

"Ah, Frank we got company...it...ust appeared...owhere as if it...hidden..."

The 'Damned' sergeant shook his head as the Little Bird pilot's voice was overcome by static.

"Say again, Freebird, did not copy your last?"

SPC Mayfield watched as Davis fast roped down from the SeaHawk to the ice castle's expansive porch. Off in the distance he could see a familiar shape with winking lights on its top and bottom. The craft was weaving back and forth over the enemy QRF in a figure-8 pattern, even in the darkness the specialist could see that was another chopper. A AH-J6 Little Bird, by the shape. He looked back at Torrez and shouted over the rushing wind and the chopper's engines.

"Hey, sarge! We got company!"

He heard Torrez chuckle in his headset.

"Not to worry my man! Ol' Merlin said he was going to run some magical interference for us. Those bastards won't see us coming!"

The Zulu Squad soldier grinned behind his balaclava, then looked down. PVT Davis was giving him the thumbs up, so Mayfield grasped the thick rope with both hands and jumped. For a moment he was weightless as gravity pulled down, his criss-crossed boots helping him control his descent. When the specialist landed on the icy deck, he heard Davis speak into his radio.

"Misfit Three, this is Misfit Two we are on the deck and ready. Stand by at secondary RV for extract."

Mayfield pulled himself to his feet and checked his SCAR-H.

"C'mon Davis! We gotta save the loot's ass!"

The two soldiers leap-frogged to a set of double doors that led from the porch to the castle. Davis stood at the ready with his M4 while Mayfield got ready to breach. As he readied the detcord, he heard Davis speak up.

"How do you think she'll look?"

Mayfield paused.

"What do you mean?"

The young medic grinned.

"I mean, how do you think Elsa will look, you know up close and personal? I've seen her probably a dozen times on the screen and through the scope..."

The Zulu Squad soldier chuckled to himself.

"Davis, pull your head out of the gutter and focus. You can check out the Ice Queen's ass after the mission's over..."

Mayfied lit the Cordtex and leaned away.

"Fire in the hole!"

A moment later the doors blew inward in a shower of ice shards and snow and both Exiles bounded in. They were greeted by a sight that stopped them both in their tracks.

Lt. Bradley and Princess Elsa were both standing off against a group of soldiers from the kingdom, led by the prince that they were debriefed about. The lieutenant was aiming his M4 at Prince Hans, while Elsa had conjured up ice in both her hands and was brandishing it like a weapon. The explosion had stunned Prince Hans and his men, but Bradley was unfazed. Prince Hans and his men, on the other hand were taken aback by the fierce-looking man wearing all black, with black and white armored shoulders, his face covered by a scarf that was patterned to look like a skull. The imposing man approached Bradley.

"You alright, sir?"

When his CO nodded, Mayfield turned his attention back to Hans and his men.

"Listen, shitheads, we're leaving with the princess. You guys stay put and no one gets killed-"

His words ended in a gurgle and he sank to his knees. An arrow, which was a lucky shot, was sticking out of his neck. Bradley stared as Mayfield collapsed to the floor, ignoring the young medic rushing to his comrade's side, desperately trying to administer first aid. Vaguely he heard Prince Hans speak.

"You are in no position to demand anything, Outworlder."

He lowered his crossbow pistol and smiled smugly.

"I, on the other hand, am in a position to demand everything. Including that dangerous witch under whose thrall you have become."

Bradley's eyes finally tore away from Mayfield, glaring at Hans. For a moment the prince's smug demeanor faltered under the young officer's murderous glare, Hans watched in terror as the Outworlder raised his weapon and spoke in a low, emotionless voice.

"Davis...report."

The young medic sat back from Mayfield's lifeless body.

"Negative...Mayfield's...he's gone, sir."

Bradley's eyes hardened as he heard Davis grab the dead soldier's SCAR-H. He saw Prince Hans sweating profusely.

"Now...let's not be hast-"

The rest of Prince Hans' words were cut off by a loud explosive bark as Bradley fired his M4. His initial burst caught three of the eight bodyguards of the prince off-guard, buying him enough time to pull Elsa and himself behind a pillar. He then unclipped a frag grenade and pulled the pin.

"Grenade out!"

He saw Davis pull Mayfield's body to cover, then aimed his weapon at the remaining targets downrange, who were petrified in fear.

"Orders, sir!"

Bradley glanced out of cover at the remaining 20 soldiers, still frozen in confusion and terrified as their prince. The lieutenant then looked down at Elsa, who was still in shock, then back to Mayfield's lifeless corpse.

"Private you are cleared hot! ROE is lifted, shoot to kill!"

The once-opulent crystal palace became a charnel house as both Exiles opened up on Hans and his men. It was a massacre. Over the din of gunfire Lt. Bradley snarled into his radio.

"Misfit Three, this is Misfit One, I need a hot extract! Be advised we are engaging enemy QRF, request fire support to secure secondary LZ. ROE is lifted, orders are shoot to kill!"

Glossary:

Dagger: The US Army issued AN/PSN-13 Defense Advanced GPS Receiver or DAGR for short was nicknamed 'dagger' by the troops that used it. Ironic since it uses satellites to triangulate coordinates, but I'm handwaving it on the grounds that Captain Pilton's boss the Big Bad is manipulating the data to guide them to their quarry.

(AN: Well, so much for a quick, easy, bloodless op. But we all knew it was going to end this way, didn't we? I apologize for the delay in getting this chapter out. My goal is to get the next chapter out before Easter, and (barring any complications) it will be the final chapter or at least the penultimate chapter. Then I'll decide whether or not to continue the story. So please comment or DM me and give me your input, let me know if you want more Disney and less Call of Duty or more military stuff. Until then!)