whatever you have to,” she whispered.
Silva took a step back, and his wary expression turned quickly to the competent and sharp keen eyed Sergeant she had come to know.
“Say hi to the Major for us, Ma’am, and let him know we expect his return quickly.”
“I’ll pass on your comments, Sergeant.”
“Good luck, Ma’am.”
Chandra nodded in gratitude. Although she had little faith in Suarez’s leadership, she knew Silva was well up to the task of pulling the marines out of the hole they were in. She took one last look at Friday’s body as it was carried away and turned to leave the staging area. What a fucking mess, she thought.
Taylor ate slowly from a bowl of food that he couldn’t even name. It was a prison blend of key ingredients that the human body needed. It was a mush that no one would eat if not to avoid starving. As an officer, he was entitled to far better provisions, but he knew that Schulz or Dupont would have seen to that being restricted.
Keeping his strength up was always on his mind. He ate whatever was put before him and exercised regularly in his cell. The Major hoped to get out every day and knew that he needed to be combat ready the second it happened. As the weeks passed, he wondered if he would ever get out. General White would have procured his release, but he knew that the US was too busy fighting on its own soil.
Is White even still alive? thought Taylor. He had heard no news since being detained. All he knew was that Ramstein had held against the enemy attacks. It was a fact that both pleased and dismayed the Major. Holding for such time was a huge boost for the human forces. But had it fallen, he would have seen the light of day.
Where are you Eli? Where is my Company?”
Mitch had been going crazy locked up in the cell. He’d never expected being imprisoned would be pleasant, but when his friends were fighting and dying just kilometres away, it was the most painstaking experience. He hoped to see a familiar face from his Company every hour of every day. Instead, all he saw were the straight-faced guards and the sour Dupont.
As Taylor took down another mouthful of the foul food, the doors down the corridor slid open. It was too early to be taking back the bowls, and not a likely time to be interning a new prisoner. He put his bowl down on the bed and stood up in curiosity. Three sets of footsteps strode down the hall towards his cell. Can’t be Dupont, he’s never without his paper pusher.
Taylor tensed up and froze in anticipation that he might see a friendly face. Then she appeared before him in a dreamy moment. He felt all hopelessness fade away as he saw Chandra’s face. He was as much relieved to see she was still alive, as he was that she had not given up on him. The guards stopped at his cell with the Major between them.
“You’ve got five minutes,” one of them snarled.
The guards strode off back down the corridor. They had not opened the doors to his cell. They never extended any courtesy to Taylor. It made him wonder how on earth Chandra managed to get in, but his moment of joy faded as he saw the sombre tone in her face. He leapt forward to the cell bars.
“I thought you’d forgotten me,” he cried.
“Never! But you’re at the top of Schulz’s shit list, and I’ve been through hell trying to get some contact with you.”
“What finally made him sway?”
She looked down gravely before finally meeting Taylor’s eyes once again. He had a thousand questions, but there were few she didn’t want to answer. She realised she had no choice but to explain all their woes, even though it could destroy the Major’s resolve.
“Since your imprisonment, we have been hit hard. Stripped of our equipment and thrown onto the front line. It’s taken a heavy toll. Schulz has had us out on suicidal missions, and more than our fair share.”
“What are you trying to tell me, Major?” insisted Taylor.
She sighed as she tried to find the words to explain.
“One of our platoons was ordered forward today, to go beyond no man’s land and scout ahead of an engineer party. That platoon was led by Captain Friday. Several hours into the mission, they were attacked in the heavy woodland on the western side, and Friday was struck in the fight.”
“And, is he okay?”
Taylor thought back to the early days of the war, and how little protection they had against the enemy energy weapons. His face turned to dread as it became clear what she was saying.
“I am sorry to say that Captain Friday died of his wounds during the firefight, along with Private Rollings.”
Taylor turned and gasped in shock. He stopped breathing for a few seconds as he stared at the back wall of his cell. Shortly after, his shock turned to anger, and he rushed back at the cell bars and threw his body against them.
“Why? Why the fuck, am I still in here? This is Schulz’s doing!”
Chandra looked in despair at Mitch’s furious anger.
“Tell me it wasn’t those two bastard Generals who caused this!”
She shook her head, not able to contradict him.
“They could have sent anyone out there. Someone had to do it, and that someone was Friday,” stated Chandra.
“Fuck!” he screamed. “Those bastards are going to pay for this!”
“Ultimately, it was the enemy that killed Friday. It was the Krycenaeans that started this war. It was them who killed our friends and brought this destruction to our world. We can do nothing to Schulz and Dupont, but if we can get you out, then you can get some payback against those alien bastards.”
Taylor strode forward more calmly, leaned in against the bars and dipped his head. He squeezed the bars with a strong clenched grip, trying to release some of his anger.
“That is what they are called? Krycenaeans?” he muttered.
“Yes. Since you rescued Jones, we have learnt a few things about our enemy. That is what they call themselves.”
Taylor’s sullen tone suddenly lifted slightly.
“Charlie? How is he?”
“I have only seen him a couple of times. He’s been taken to a recovery facility further east. Honestly? He’s a wreck. Whatever they did to him… well, he may never recover.”
“Jesus, we’re dropping like flies. Have you been reinforced?”
Chandra shook her head. She couldn’t believe it either.
“What? Who are your platoon leaders?”
“Yorath, Suarez and now Silva. Green was wounded a week ago.”
Taylor sighed.
“What is the fighting strength of the Company?”
She did not respond.
He looked up and stared into her eyes. He could see it was an answer she didn’t want to give. He glared until finally she folded.
“Sixty-five at present.”
“And your people won’t send any fresh troops?”
“British forces are already fighting further north of here. They arrived last week. There is still speculation of a new front being started in Northern France.”
“They’re going to tackle the Normandy beaches? Jesus!”
“We all hope it’ll happen, but I guess they need to know there’s a good chance of success. It’s not like we have anywhere to run if Britain falls.”
Taylor paced up and down the room. He was glad to finally be getting some news, but it made him all the more furious that he was locked up and unable to help his comrades.
“You have to get me out of here!”
“I am well aware of that, but what am I supposed to do?”
“Anything! Everything!”
