"Okay guys, listen up," calls Colonel Hogan as he strides into the radio room. Everyone is already there waiting for him: Kinch, LeBeau, Carter and Newkirk. And myself though not through any part of being a member of the team. I really have no other place I am allowed to go, forced to stay in the tunnels and out of sight of the camp above while we wait for London to send the time travel device in the next scheduled supply drop.

It had been a long week so far with still another two to go unless something pressing changes the drop schedule, but I wasn't holding my breath on that one. I found I was longing to see blue sky and smell fresh air that wasn't tainted by damp earth and musty material. I'm sitting quietly on the cot Kinch keeps by the radio, my normal 'hang-out' spot when someone's downstairs. Most of the time the rest of the tunnel system is kept in darkness unless preparations for a mission are underway and rather than wasting their carefully rationed supply of kerosene, I have been keeping to the lit portions of the tunnels.

I have to admit it is rather lonely; I'm not really keeping anyone company. They have their own routines and things to keep them occupied. Mostly I'm ignored and my more-normal shy personality has come back to the fore. The guys are doing important work here and I don't want to get in their way so I watch from the sidelines and don't bother them. It also means I'm minimizing my impact on the timeline. Knowing my luck, and Heaven forbid, I would probably screw something up so bad it would cause the Nazis to win.

LeBeau's been really good about seeing I get decent meals. Kinch sometimes starts a conversation when things are really slow or he's waiting for a response from London. Carter has let me into his lab for a change of scenery, and of all the Heroes I suppose he's the one I'm getting to know the best. Both Newkirk and the Colonel are doing their utmost to ignore me, just as I'm doing my best to not be a thorn in their side but the waiting is starting to grate on my nerves.

My attention is drawn back to the Colonel, as he's explaining the Intel behind the latest mission to come down the wire.

"This bridge has to be blown tonight; priority one: no exceptions, no delays," emphasizes Hogan. His firm tone has the rest of the team leaning on his every word. "London has just received reports of a Panzer division moving through the area, aiming to strengthen their side of the Western front. If we can take out the bridge, it will delay them enough for the Allies to get reinforcements in place. Otherwise, our line will likely be overrun and it could be a major setback."

"What do we know about the bridge structure, Colonel?" asks Carter, his mind already working on how many bombs and what strength will be needed to accomplish their task.

"It's a simple wooden truss and arch spanning 200 ft. Nothing we haven't taken down before," replies the Colonel, and Carter nods in agreement. "We'll need timers on this one – with the Panzers around, there will be added patrols and we'll need to get back to camp as soon as we can. We'll head out at 2300. I know it's mid-morning now – will that give you enough time to put together enough packages Carter?"

"Should do Colonel. I have some already bundled – just need to add the timers," says Carter with a nonchalant shrug. I can tell he's truly comfortable with his role as the team's demolition expert.

"Good. Update me with a status report at 1400 and let me know if you need any extra hands," orders the Colonel. The team breaks up, easily picking up Hogan's unvoiced 'dismissed' and Carter heads off to his lab, happily whistling a Tommy Dorsey tune.

Two o'clock comes round faster than I realize and soon four of the team members are gathered around the radio room table. Carter arrives late and with a scowl on his face. I've never seen Carter worked up over anything before and I wonder what has the normally even-tempered man in such a huff.

"It's no good Colonel," begins Carter angrily, throwing a timer onto the table with a bit of force. It hits with a bang, skids a little and comes to rest in the center, innocently meeting the stares of the team.

"What's no good, Carter?" asks Hogan.

"The timer. All the timers," emphasizes Carter. "Only had a few left and not one of them is functional."

"Can they be fixed?" questions the Colonel.

"Not a chance sir. They're all defective. Missing the spring which controls the count down." Carter picks up the offending device and twists the control dial. It immediately swings back to 0 in less than a second. He throws it back on the table in disgust. The others sport wrinkled foreheads as they frown at the hurdle they've just been handed.

"Okay. Alternatives? What about a wired detonation from the box?"

"Thought of that sir," answers Carter. "Remember how we asked for more detonator cable in the last drop? Which they forgot to send?" Winces go round the table and the Colonel drops his head to his chest and sighs. "In a nutshell, we don't have near enough. A smaller bridge, maybe, but not 200 feet," finishes Carter.

"That only leaves fuses. I take it we have those?" asks Hogan in exasperation.

"Yes sir…"

"I sense a 'but' there Carter. Go ahead, spit it out," says the Colonel.

"The fuses are pre-measured and short. Remember we usually light 'em and toss 'em. I have lots of sticks so we can put the bundles of dynamite close enough together that the explosion of one should lead to the explosion of the next in a chain. But the initial fuse will only last about a minute. Whoever lights the fuse won't have time to get clear…"

And there it was. Laid bare on the table with the defective timer. The oh-so-simple operation had just turned into a suicide mission. My eyes widen in disbelief at what I'm hearing and I subconsciously hold my breath – waiting for one of those brilliant "Heroes' Ideas" to come springing forth from someone's mouth.

"I'll do it sir," says Carter quietly, his anger at the situation diffused just like one of his bombs.

"No Carter, I'll do it," replies the Colonel. "The next CO will need your expertise."

The room erupts into a flurry of arguments over who is more expendable, with everyone bucking to be the one to lay down his life instead of the Colonel.

"Enough!" bellows Hogan and silence descends. Jaws snap shut in mid-argument at the command. "My team. My order. My choice."

Hogan pivots and stalks away, headed to the ladder to take him up to the barracks. Shoulders sag on the remaining team members. Carter suddenly makes a fist and pummels the table before grabbing the damnable timer and retreating to his lab. He still has all the other bundles of dynamite to put together. Little bundles of death which will bring an end to his CO's life…

"I 'ate this bloody war," fumes Newkirk as he too heads towards the ladder. LeBeau and Kinchloe follow behind, climbing up to the barracks proper and leaving me alone with the echo of the Colonel's words ringing in my ears.

My team. My order. My choice.

Those of us who write fan fiction have often portrayed Hogan as the self-sacrificing type, but to be forced to witness his bravery first-hand was enough to bring tears to my eyes. I'm left stunned by the emotion still filling the room as I curl up on the cot, hoping someone could come up with something in time to save the Colonel.