Disclaimer: I do not own warriors

February 19st 1955

Chapter 16: Hezbollah

Bluefur's POV:

I woke up staring at the ceiling. I climbed down my bunk bed and went to the bathroom all the orphans shared.

Orphan.

I never thought I would be one. Contrary to popular belief, being an Orphan isn't that

.

.

.

.

Different.

[Everything's the same, just without a negligent parent]

I opened the door, and as I walked into the uni-gender bathroom with my toiletries, I heard a noise coming from the showers. I tried to ignore it as I brushed my teeth, but to no avail.

"I'm on tonight and my hips don't lie!" (What do you mean it's not relevant anymore?)

The sad thing was that the obnoxious song was actually somewhat good. By the time I finished washing up, a few people were in the bathroom listening to it. A hand stuck out and grabbed a towel nearby. I had a suspicion that he was singing, but this confirms it.

I walked out of the bathroom just after Fuzzypelt left the shower.

I snuck out of the building and started to walk down the hill. I began thinking about how to get to the base faster. Walking for an hour wasn't going to cut it.

I heard a hushed voice behind me "Bluefur! Wait up!"

I immediately dove for the shrubbery.

༼ (Oo ༽ [Mouse-dung! how would I explain this?]

I peeked to see Fuzzypelt on a scooter gliding towards me. Relieved, I walked out of the bush and brushed my shirt.

"Are you going to the base too?" He asked, as I got a leaf out of my pants.

"Yeah." I said.

"Hop on then." He motioned.

After I stepped on, the scooter began to pick up speed.

I held on to Fuzzypelt as the wind ruffled my hair. We managed to get to the base in a solid 10 minutes. I stepped off the scooter, and walked directly into the bathroom. The kid in the corner rolled his eyes.

"Ay! Glad you could make it." Rosetail yelled from the engineer room.

"How do you know it's me?" I asked.

"Tawnyspots designed a mirror camera system! Look to your right!"

I turned to my right, but saw nothing.

"More to your right. Left now. Little more, little more, There! Stop, and look up, behind the coat rack!"

I saw a book sized hole, and assumed it was it.

I waved to it, and Fuzzypelt said:

{Have you gone bonkers?} Σ（￣□￣；）

"Okay," Sunstar said to the entirety of the base, "You may know about the middle-eastern stability problem."

"Are we going to go back to Iran?" An agent groaned from the back.

"No, to Iraq." Sunstar responded.

"What about operation Stopwatch?" Speckletail asked. (*The building of listening post tunnels into East Berlin)

"The Americans should be able to finish it." Sunstar dismissed.

"Not It!" Goosefeather called, setting off a chain.

"So we're taking you then. Also, this might not be a good place to bring your overcoat to." Sunstar said, dryly.

"I'll always keep this coat." Goosefeather hissed.

I asked the person sitting at my right, "What do they mean by 'going back to Iran'?"

Thrushpelt responded, "They toppled a government."

"Why are we going?" Goosefeather asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"We need to contain communism, so we are making a pact with other middle eastern countries." Sunstar explained.

"Why us?" Goosefeather complained.

"Headquarters did not tell me, but our mission is to protect the ambassador. Anyways, we are taking …" Sunstar listed.

I was to go, and so was Fuzzypelt. Rosetail and Thrushpelt have families, so they couldn't come.

-One week later-

On the plane, I asked Goosefeather, who was acting as a buffer between Fuzzypelt and I, "What is the situation in the middle east?"

"It's complicated." He said, not even looking at me.

Hmmm. How can I do this?

"How are babies made?" I asked Goosefeather, who surrounded himself with his overcoat.

He thought for a bit, "Ummm… Well….. Let's use you and Thrushpelt as an example. You see, whe-"

Oh Starclan no

I changed the topic. "Nevermind. What is going on in the Middle East?"

Goosefeather gave me a lecture boring enough to be in a documentary. Basically, he said:

Jews and Arabs hated each other. They both wanted the land of Transjordan and Palestine. The US backed the Jews, and Arabs didn't like the US, and since they had oil, the US started funding revolutions.

I asked if it was moral to overthrow a democratic government for a dictator that supported the west.

He did not respond, but looked away and used his overcoat as a buffer.

Are we the bad guys?

We all stepped out of the airway passage thingamajig (Did you know that's how you spell it?) and was immediately greeted by a man who whispered something to Sunstar and gave him some tickets.

[Hello, Iran.] ( )

Sunstar groaned, "Okay, turns out we were not supposed to go here, and we were supposed to go to Israel."

"Really?"

"Not my fault…."

-One flight later-

We landed in Tel Aviv, and was immediately pat down. After a minute of privacy invasions, we left the checkpoint and walked out of the airport. We got on a bus and traveled to a outskirt village.

"Why do we have to be here? Can't we just go to a hotel in the city?" I complained, exhausted.

"We can't afford that." Sunstar said.

A couple of people were staring at us, and began muttering in awe. A man grabbed Sunstar by the hand and motioned us to follow him. We walked into a house, and went under a trap door.

Fuzzypelt mouthed, "So cool."

After a solid minute walking underground, we went to a underground space, much like our base in germany. I saw people, arabic, overcrowd the room. A poster showed a man waving a flag patriotically. It had a eagle with a crescent moon and three stars in the middle of the black, red, and white backdrop. The guerrillas were mostly armed with WW2 era weapons.

A woman spoke fluent german to us, "Thank Allah, I knew you guys would come back! Let's get started on the contingency operation."

"Um…" Sunstar questioned.

"Now, let's get revenge on those Jews." She clenched her fist, "Follow us. Children, stay back."

The group of adults dispersed into the catacomb like structure of the underground lair, leaving a few boys left in the room.

What was this all about?

A boy, 7 or 8, stared in awe of us. "You must be really talented to be part of this special group!
When I grow up, I want to be just like you!"

"Thank you!" Fuzzypelt said, ruffling the boys hair.

"You must be really talented! I honestly didn't think germany could survive, but Hitler has his ways." The boy said.

HITLER?!

Fuzzypelt warm smile froze, and he recomposed himself.

I thought about it. The arabs were anti-semitic, and they did cooperated with the nazis. Maybe they were left out of the loop that the war was ended. If we did tell them we were british spies, they might kill us.

I managed to change my expression of horror into a fake smile, but a boy, roughly my age, caught my split-second realization of the situation. The worst thing, he was kinda hot. He had messed up dark-orange hair, green eyes, and a complexion that made you want to hug and snuggle with him.

The hot boy said, staring at the sky with a disapproving glare, "You know what? How 'bout you go and get our visitors some water."

"Okay Jake." The boy left.

After the younger boy left, Jake grabbed Fuzzypelt's and my hand, to which I immediately flushed, and led us to a smaller room.

"Are you really german?" Jake asked once we were out of range. "I won't tell on you."

"Yeah." Fuzzypelt said.

"Honestly?" Jake questioned, as if he was a lawyer interrogating a witness.

"Yes." I answered, "But Germany is divided between the Soviets and the Western Powers."

"And you are?" Jake asked.

"A British spy." I revealed.

"Oh. The Brits." Jake sighed, and stared at the ceiling.

"Did that really deserve a sigh?" Fuzzypelt asked, a bit offended.

"I always wanted answers form the Nazis; (I think that is how you use a semicolon.) " Jake explained, "Why they gassed jews, Why they make children work in the army, Why they attacked the soviets, You get what I'm saying."

"Well the only way to know the answers would be to go into Hitler's head, and he's dead." Fuzzypelt said.

"Well…" Jake said.

"Is he BLOODY alive?" I asked, barely releasing my tone.

"In Santiago." Jake said, staring me with those forest green eyes, as if saying "You wanna argue?".

I backed down. I can't argue with a hot guy. Jake knew that as well.

Is this love?

No, just a hot guy.

"That's near Jamaica, right?" Fuzzypelt obliviously said.

"No." We both said.

"Are you sure?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Yes." We said in unison.

Jake had managed to convince the leader that we had a bigger missions, and that they could not stop for us. Because of this, We slept at the base for a day, and they gave us an escort to the airport. As we walked to the hanger, an Arab man asked, "Isn't that a british plane?"

I quickly responded, " We need it for cover. We are going behind the lines."

The Arab man nodded.

Fuzzypelt whispered, "Smooth thinking."

"Thanks."

We all got into the plane, and it began to sputter. I feared that the planes would just not start, or even worse, it would get into the air, and stall. However, The plane flew safely over the mediterranean, and we entered West Berlin.

Well this was useless…

It's like a filler chapter.

I snuck back into the orphanage with Fuzzypelt, and got to my room, where I was apprehended by Whiteye.

"Bluefur, " She said in an unusual tone, " Where were you for the past day and a half."

"Gone." I responded, avoiding her eye.

"Do you know the web of lies that I had to make for you?"

"No."

"Bluefur, please warn me before you extravagant the world. It would give me time to make up a lie for you. It gives it more credibility. Fuzzypelt is already onboard."

Whiteye sighed.

"I know you and your fancy spy stuff is important, but please try to tell me in advance. Good night."

"Okay."

Whiteye left the room. I guess I shouldn't leave without telling Whiteye anymore.

I brushed my teeth, and changed into my jim-jams. (I forgot to add british slang. Welp.)

I pulled the covers over me, and drifted to sleep.

I didn't know at the time that that wouldn't be my last time in the middle east.