"Thunder!"

"Flash!"

The ten breathed a sigh of relief. They had finally reached the other side of the American troops. Donnie pulled her girls to the side. Her face had cleared up some.

"We have to look for a map, and be on our way. It doesn't seem these boys are headed to Ramelle."

"We don't even have a full team," Jo argued.

She put a hand on her chin. "I suppose you're right. We'll stay with them until we sniff out three more. After that, straight to Ramelle."

The two nodded. Their attention shot back toward the troops as a large brick wall fell over. It revealed a large company of Nazis. The three girls pulled out their pistols. Both sides began yelling at each other to drop their weapons, ending up in a miniature stalemate.

"Drop your weapons!"
"Nicht! Stellen Sie Ihre Waffen hin!"
"Drop 'em now!"
"Nein!"
"Drop the fucking weapons!"
"Stellen Sie Ihre Waffen hin!"
"I'll shoot you! I'll shoot you!"

Some shots came from an upward angle. Soon enough, the Germans were dead. Fortunately, they only fired a few shots.
Miller looked up. The head guy walked down some stairs.

"Fred Hamill, Pathfinders 101st."

"John Miller, 2nd Rangers. Thank you. We're here looking for a Private James Ryan, he's part of your outfit," he explained, "Any chance at all you policed him up?"

"How was the road in?"

"Scenic. We lost most of our ammo," he replied.

"Not to mention one of our men," one of them snarled.

"Lieutenant, re-deploy that bazooka to the right side of the road. And get Ryan up here."

A soldier nodded. "Yes sir. Ryan! Ryan, front and center," he yelled, "Ryan!"

Donnie turned to check on her girls. Her eyes widened as she stared at the blonde. She was biting her lip as crimson bled through her brown shirt.

"Montie! Your arm!"

She nodded. "Only grazed. I'll be fine."

"Wade," she called out. The medic was quickly at her side.

"What do ya need?" he asked.

"Montie was grazed. Patch her up for me, Doc?"

He turned his eyes to the wound and nodded. "Sure." He waved her over. "Let's find a stable place to sit."
The two walked off. The auburn stood next to her friend.

In a low voice she spoke, "It looked deeper than a graze."

"I know. All we can do is patch it; the rest is up to her."

The two shared an understanding silence. All of a sudden, their ears perked up as they heard a familiar name.
"Hey Donnie! Is that you?"

The girls turned on their heels to face a woman. She had ebony hair and chocolate brown eyes. She was around five feet tall. She wore green combat boots as well as forest green cargo pants. She wore a light green, no sleeve, shirt. Her hair was in pig tails. A black head band covered her forehead. Donnie beamed.

"Mary? Damn, it is you!" The two jogged over as the brunette landed a hug on her friend. "I thought you were assigned to El Alamein."

"Kicked their asses and was sent out here." Her eyes flicked to the auburn. "Jo? Shit, ain't this a reunion."

Jo smirked. "Nice to see you too Tom-Tom."

"You two know each other?"

"Yeah. We worked together near Leningrad until winter hit the first year. Pete was our leader."

"Ah Pete. I miss her. What happened to her?" asked Jo.

Tom-Tom averted her gaze. "Last I heard, she was captured."

Jo's eyes widened for a split second. Anger boiled up inside of her, yet she refused to let it surface. She soon turned her gaze to her friend.
"How do you know Donnie?"

She smiled broadly. "We went through basic together, shared a bunk."

"Good times."

"I'll say," Tom-Tom agreed. "So, who's your leader?"

Montie had just walked over with a patched arm. She had heard the new friend's question. She decided to answer.
"That'd be Donnie." She stuck her hand out to Tom-Tom. "I'm Montie."

"Tom-Tom." The chocolate eyed girl looked at the leader amused. "You're leading?"

She shoved her. "What of it? Actually," she paused, "You with a squad?"

She shook her head. "Nah, haven't been in awhile."

Jo's eyes widened. "Wait…were you with the group that found a sniper?"

"Jo," Montie reprimanded.

"It's okay," Tom-Tom sighed, "But yeah, I was the one that got out."

Donnie frowned and patted her friend's back. "I'm sorry, Mary."

She smiled sadly. "Hey, it happens. What were you saying about a team?"

"We're short by three-"

"I'm in."

Mellish had run over to the group of girls. His eyes were mixed with anger and determination. The strange mix caught the brunette's eye.

"What's up Mellish?"

"Wrong fuckin' Ryan."

Jo was taken back. "What do you mean 'wrong Ryan'?"

"I mean they got the same name except for the one in the middle," he retorted angrily.

Jackson joined the party. He looked at the girls.

"If ya'll are still taggin along, we got a place to stay for the night."

"Taggin along?" Montie asked surprised.

"Yes. You are followin us around."

She raised an eyebrow. "All we need is a map and we'll be gone before the sun sets."

He laughed. "And lose sight of you pretty ladies? Not a chance."

They all laughed as the four girls followed the boys to the church. Donnie stood next to the blonde and checked over her wound. Montie tried to pull away from her vice grip, but the effort was futile. The brunette continued to ask questions about her capability. Jackson glanced over his shoulder at the pair. He had noticed the bandage around her sleeve earlier, and it made him worried. Although her answers said she was fine, he could tell that it bothered her. His attention was ripped away as he heard the voices of his squad. Miller saw them coming and eyed the ebony haired girl.

"Who's this," he asked.

"This is Mary Tomms," the auburn answered, "She's joining up with us."

He stood a moment. Mary offered her hand. He shook it.

"Call me Tom-Tom."

"Captain Miller. Do you know a Private James Ryan?"

She shook her head. "No sir. This is my first week out here in France. I've been in Russia and North Africa, nothing farther."

"It's getting dark," Montie spoke up. "We should get inside."