The Golden Soldier (Call of Duty: WW2 Fanfiction)

Chapter 13

"This camera is so annoying," Stiles grumbled, looking like he wished to snap the technology in half. "The film keeps getting stuck!"
I tilted my head. "Couldn't you get another camera?"
"They're a little hard to come by..."
I shrugged in agreement and then set my breakfast to the side. "Mind if I take a look?"
Stiles hesitated and then handed the black and silver camera over to me. I examined the old piece of equipment, likely to produce images in black and white, and flipped it over. My fingers popped open the film container and I looked at the wedged film.
"It's definitely jammed. I would take it over to the armory," I suggested, closing the entrance to the film cave. "They might have tools small enough to tinker with it."
"Maybe," Stiles proceeded to watch me behind his black-rimmed glasses. "You look like you've never even seen a camera before."
    Not this exact edition, no. "I suppose not recently. It's just shocking to see such a simple and traditional thing around here. Reminds me of home."
Stiles cocked his head, a smile lifting the corners of his lips. "Take some pictures with it."
"Oh no!" I shook my head and reached to give him the object back. "I'll drop it."
He laughed. "Oh come on, Ava."
I stood and shoved the camera into his chest. "I refuse."
Stiles looked from my hand pressing the technology into his chest up to my face. I glanced between the two as well, finding the slight V opening at his tussled uniform to be inviting, distracting. I could see a glimpse of his collarbone, the beginning of the valley between his fit pectorals.
I looked back to his dark eyes, a dark coffee shade. They studied my lighter, pale green eyes, narrowing as he shifted his gaze slightly lower, to my nose. I watched his gaze move again, heading for my lips...
"Um," there was a clearing of a throat and I released the camera, "am I interrupting something?"
"No," Stiles and I spoke instantaneously to Aiello's dark smirk.
"Wow, College," Aiello glared at the younger man pressing his glasses closer to his face, "we leave you alone for five minutes and you're already--"
"Shut up!" Stiles hissed and stood.
I felt the camera be shoved in my direction as Stiles moved towards Aiello. Aiello smirked more and then shoved his sleeves up. The two clashed in a playful tussle and I chuckled, raising the camera to get some shots.
Stiles managed to headlock Aiello, who used his hand to twist the arm of his opponent. It was clear who was stronger as Aiello pinned Stiles to grass, holding his arm at an angle I didn't think humans could bend. Stiles grunted as he twisted in the lock and kneed Aiello's gut.
"Boys!"
I perked up to the snappy command of Turner. He stood right outside the command tent, glaring at the foolish young men. They quickly broke apart and popped up, straightening in the back and torso area. Turner moved his glare to me and then motioned with his head for me to come to him.
"Avaline, we need to talk."
Even though I subconsciously knew I wasn't in trouble, fear prickled through my body. The hairs on my arms stood straight up and my neck suddenly became so cold.
"Here's your camera," I mumbled to Stiles as I passed the two.
I could feel their stares up until I ducked through the flap of the small wall tent. At the center of the room was a wooden table with few papers catered on it. Around in the corners and along the edges were small crates full of commanding-type things likely.
When I moved my green gaze to Turner, behind the table, I was reminded that he'd used my full name to address me. His jaw was tight, clenched in stress, and I could tell he wasn't trying to clench it. His almond-shaped eyes were focused on my smaller framed-body in silent deciphering. What he was deciphering was what I was worried of.
    "I found you another ride home."
    His words shocked me to the core. I could feel the pounding of my heart in my ears and an ache in my gut. It made me want to spasm and roll around on the floor in pain...in helplessness.
    Turner watched me process the statement, his lips pressed into a hard line. I closed my eyes and breathed out of my mouth, rolling my tongue along my inner bottom gums.
    "It will be by train," Turner proceeded. "And at night to avoid detection."
    "A train is the most dangerous way of travel," I whispered.
    Turner sighed. "It's the best I could do Ava."
    I opened my eyes and glared at him, losing my temper. "The best you could do? The best you could do would be to keep me here, behind the front lines!"
    "Avali--"
"I can help people, Turner!" I argued. "You've seen it yourself that I already have."
    Turner shook his head. "Ava, you can't stay here. Women....they aren't supposed to be at the front lines...not American women. You would get hurt."
    "Oh, so you think I'm incapable?" I raised my voice, my fists clenching.
    "No!" Turner snapped back and his tone made me flinch. He sighed and shook his head. "It's too dangerous."
    "No more dangerous than it is for you."
   "Avaline!" Turner gritted his teeth, his voice raising again. "Don't you realize the consequences of having you here? We would all get in trouble, all of us would be punished in ways that would hinder the war!"
    "And sending a lone girl on a train wouldn't be dangerous? Hindering to the war?"
    "You can't be here."
    "Then why have you assigned me this uniform?" I gripped at the green covering my body. "This helmet? And what of the few people I've already began to patch up? You assigned them to me!"
    Turner watched as I came undone in front him. The tears of fear and the unknown were trailing down in huge salty drops. I took off my helmet to let my hair fall out, so I could clench my fingers through the gritty locks of black.
    "I'm in an unfamiliar place with people I've never even met!" I cried out. "This time period is entirely fucked up and crazy and I just want to go back home, back to my time! I miss my family! And I can't do anything about it because I'm stuck in this fucking period of time!"
    The tent was silent as I sobbed.
    "I'm not leaving, Turner," I caught my hyperventilating breath. "This is the only place I have. You are my only chance at surviving at this point. You have the control over my fate, but I'm also smart enough to know when it's threatened. I won't go on any train or plane or vehicle."
    I couldn't read his expression. It may have been frustration or anger, maybe even curiosity. I'd said way too much. I'd broken apart and shown part of who I was...where I was from.
    "Avaline Baker," Turner's voice was cool, but I could sense the heat behind it. "You are going to tell me exactly where you came from and who you are or--and I'm not lying about this--I will have you detained."
    I breathed out and shut my eyes for a few moments. No matter what I was about to say, I had to make sure I woudn't twist the future. Nothing I said would even make sense to the man in front of me, so it was likely that I would seem crazy. Anything I said would probably change the future, or the opinions of it, anyways. Might as well not hide anything.
    "I'm from the future," I whispered, opening my eyes to see he'd come around the table, leaning against it.
    Turner didn't look convinced, crossing his arms in impatience.
    "I'm twenty one, born in 1991. It was 2012, during a camping trip, when I went to a historical museum to learn more about this war, to help my recently changed college degree in history. I touched the gearstick of a jeep--a replica of those just outside--and then was plopped in the middle of a forest with a German gun barrel pointed directly at my face."
The silence in the tent was suffocating.
"I probably look and sound crazy," I lowered my voice, unable to meet Turner's eyes. "But all of it is true. It explains my clothes and my hair."
I flipped my pack around to pull out the blue sweatshirt. My finger pointed out the 2009.
"I won this as a senior in high school during basketball. The year was 2009," I pulled out my sneakers. "These are the newest edition of Nike's, a clothing company big on sports. They aren't founded yet I don't think. And my jeans," I pulled them out, "these are skinny jeans. A popular style for women and men both."
   I shoved everything back into my pack and then stood straight. "I have this thing called an iPhone too. Take a rotary phone and make it wireless, mobile, almost as smart as us."
   I took the rectangular white phone out of my pocket and held it out to Turner. He paused, staring at the alien material, and then gently took it from my hand. I watched him click the home button, the screen lighting up. He widened his eyes--a sign of emotion, bless the the lord--and then examined it more.
    "It takes pictures, records movies or videos, and there are even card games. I can talk to people on it and message like letters, except it never leaves the phone screen."
    Turner touched the screen--it was like a monkey examining something new and unusual--and then opened to my home screen. I watched as he fiddled with different things and then managed to stumble into my photos.
    "Swipe to look at the different ones," I breathed.
    Turner scrolled through images, none of which I could see. He let out a huff of amusement, corners of his lips lifting. "You look like your mother."
    I smiled and let out a breath.
    "Your father is also present. I can tell in the eyes," Turner looked up from the glowing screen and stared into my worried expression. "Very determined. Strong. Stubborn though."
I couldn't help but smile and dip my head. Turner handed the phone back to me and I looked to the percentage of battery....forty. My hopes drained just in the slightest.
"I promise you this is real," I tucked the phone away, making sure to turn it off. "I didn't think it was at first, but I've had too many realistic experiences to decide otherwise."
Turner cocked his head at me. "It did help me to understand your situation a little better."
I breathed out relief. "There's so much I could tell you to make you understand more. Like, for example, my stubbornness to fight. Women are allowed to do so much more in 2012 than the 1940s."
"Yes, I'm sure there are a lot of aspects," Turner mused.
"Don't you realize why I can't leave now?" I whispered. "I have to find a way back to 2012, to my home. The current America isn't it. If I leave here, I might miss the opportunity to go back home--however it happens."
Turner slowly nodded in understanding.
"And you can't tell anyone about this!" I rushed out. "I don't want to damage anymore of the future."
Turner cocked a smile. "I won't tell a soul."
"Thank you."
"I'll allow you to stay here," Turner decided. "Only...you have to stay inconspicuous."
"There's only one way to do that," I muttered.
"Oh?"
"I have to fight."
"But first you have to train."
"I know you don't think I can, but--" I cut off, raising my eyebrows. "What?"
Turner chuckled, resting his hands backwards on the table. "You're right, I did assign you that uniform, that helmet, and even the task of using your nursing skills. I should make you work to use them to the best of your ability. That being said, you're going to train...hard. We don't have a lot of time."
I couldn't say anything in response...my jaw was so low to the ground. I then rushed forwards and hugged Turner, my arms squeezing his torso tightly.
"Thank you!"
Turner squeezed my shoulder and then brought my upper body away from him. His eyes deeply met mine. "I'm going to try my best to help you find a way home. That's why you can't get killed in the process."
I smiled and then released him. I picked up my helmet from the ground and plopped it on my head, tucking my hair up. It was impossible to believe I'd convinced Turner, that I'd saved my fate. I felt a bad vibe reflecting my confession, however. I just didn't know how it would affect me or the others yet.
"Well, sir," I pressed on the word, "I should go find someone to get me started shouldn't I?"
"Indeed," Turner dipped his head. "You're dismissed."
I smiled and then made it to the flap. Before I opened the flap, Turner spoke once more, catching me off guard.
"The number on your helmet better be worn as it's supposed to be," Turner spoke seriously, reminding me of how he expected the most from his men from First Platoon.
"I know, sir."
"I think you'll fit into it well."
I smiled with my back to him and then pushed out of the flap. "Thank you, sir."

--•--•--•--

So Ava was finally able to convince Turner, what a dangerous thing to do...considering her situation. We'll have to see where it takes her. 😏
Hope you enjoyed! The action is coming soon, I swear by it!
Song: Only One by The Score
~MS~