The Golden Soldier (Call of Duty: WW2 Fanfiction)

Chapter 16

"Ava on me," Turner whispered as we headed for one of the most advanced trains of the decade, a Panzerzug.
    I followed Turner in silence, refusing to show I was a woman to the British companions with us. Vivian and Crowley were the two British S.O.E. agents teaming up with us on our mission to stop the train carrying rockets that could destroy Paris. Vivian was a woman, yet I couldn't dare to reveal myself and risk Turner's hide. Therefore, I was entirely silent around the team.
    We snuck around a large house, taking out a few German officers. Daniels, Crowley, and Vivian all cleared the house. It wasn't long before they were proceeding to the train. Daniels was sneaking through the giant courtyard littered with Nazis.
    "Stay low and move along the outside," Turner motioned for me to move first.
    I crouched and moved forwards as I led him along the edge of the courtyard; Pierson had taken the rest slightly further down, advancing from another point. My body froze as a German walked out in front of me, eyes peeled further out into the environment. I held my breath, making sure there wasn't another German in sight.
    Turner moved before I could, advancing on the soldier and covering his mouth as he slit his throat. My jaw clenched as I saw his body wiggle, throat spurting blood, and then grow still. The sight made me gag, throw my eyes into a dumpster. Seeing a slow motion video of a beetle being squashed would've been more satisfying. It wasn't like I saw death commonly like the others had.
    "Keep moving," Turner was like a focused father, trying to keep me grounded and learning. He was the only one who may have developed a sense of caring at this point.
    The train suddenly let out a roar and I flinched.
    "Change of plans, we've been spotted!" Vivian cried out.
    "Get to the train!" Turner hissed.
    I charged for the building being used as an exit from the courtyard to the station. My legs carried me out into the open area, where Daniels and the Agents were already fighting off alerted Germans. Pierson stumbled out into the fight with the others as well.
    The station wasn't further than 500 feet and the train was directly on the other side. I could feel the rumble of the train heating up as I scrambled to duck behind a cobblestone waist-high wall. Shots bounced off the top of the stone as I regained awareness, fixing my helmet. Across from me Daniels was shooting down a German Shepherd, the squeal from the dog cutting my core. Further down Pierson was stabbing a man in conclusion of a hand-to-hand struggle.
    I touched my temple, feeling the pulse of my heartbeat out of control from the unusual point. My fingers gripped the rifle in my lap, unknown to the hand whom they were attached to. I trembled as I looked to Turner, pressing forwards to reach the train as quickly as possible; his body was tight and prepared for war, unshaken and steady. I wished to have his bravery.
    "We gotta get to the train!" Zussman shouted upon a warning whistle from the tracks.
    "We'll never make it!" Stiles responded as he cowered while reloading.
    I found courage to pop up and shoot slowly, randomly at targets. In the moment I didn't know if I hit anyone. It was a matter of looking busy so that I would avoid heat from the others--Pierson especially. Likely, my idea was stupid and reckless and bound to get me in trouble, but I had to do something besides hide and cower.
    "Cut through the post office!" Pierson shouted to Daniels and Stiles, who were closing in on the small building ahead.
    I found myself moving up without checking myself. Running across open territory, I caught up to Aiello, who was reloading. He eyed me, my tight grip on the gun, the weight of ammo in my pockets of my field jacket. Though he didn't say anything, it was clear I hadn't shot much.
    Pushing past him, I filed after Turner into the post office. Daniels was pressing for the final door. In one motion he tore open the door and faced rounds from a turret on the train. As he fell back, Pierson and the others pressed through.
    "Everyone in the jeeps now!" Pierson's throaty yell echoed over the commotion.
    I watched Zussman help Daniels up and then barrel for the jeep in front of me. Without orders or questioning what the hell I was doing, I dove into the back of the jeep. Zussman found the passenger seat and Daniels floored it from the driver's.
    The train screamed as we drove off the side of the tracks to rougher terrain. The bouncy path made my helmet shake to the sides of my head and I held the top of it as I braced myself against corners of the back. Since there wasn't a seat, I found it difficult to stay steady. My hands gripped the back of Zussman's seat as I peered forwards to the busy situation.
    "Shit!" Zussman called out as Daniels drove up to the edge of a cliff.
    I hugged the seat like my life depended on it as Daniels drove off the drop. We bounced when we landed, making Zussman groan and me let out a squeal of surprise. Daniels continued to flank the train, trying so hard to catch the other jeeps and cut off the train.
    "We have to stop it," I gasped, knowing at least the importance of the mission.
    Zussman glanced over his shoulder as if he'd temporarily forgotten of my presence. His green eyes looked to where I had a death grip on the seat and frowned. I gave him a sharp look that told him to focus, that I would be alright, but I think there was more fear in it than anything.
    The train shot as Daniels dove underneath a bridge and overgrowth. I winced to the shaking thunder of the rockets smashing into the earth less than a cat's whisker away. Daniels approached another bridge, hidden from the train's view once more.
    "I'm gonna puke," Zussman gasped and I silently agreed.
    My mind recalled throwing up in the last fast-paced jeep ride--back in Marigny. I remember almost falling out, Pierson saving me...Aiello had been disgusted. To the memory, I forced the bile down my throat in a tender swallow. I had to keep it together.
"I shoulda drove!" Zussman shouted in frustration.
"Now's your chance," Daniels suddenly evacuated the wheel and barreled back towards me.
Zussman scooted to the driver's seat and then motioned to the empty passenger seat. "You'll like it better up here when he's shooting."
I slid up to the front, catching my breath and finding myself weaponless. The damned gun must've bounced out at one point. I inwardly slapped my head and then focused on the incoming train.
Zussman avoided any huge bumps as Daniels shot at the Germans appearing on the train. I wished to be able to help--though it was likely I would've sat stationary like before with a gun.
"We gotta get to the front of the train!" Zussman gritted out as we meandered along.
I could feel the jeep roll it's eyes as Zussman put the pedal to the floor to speed up. Daniels shot consistently, killing Germans and blowing up what he could of the cars as we passed.
"If we get up close, they can't hit us!" Zussman wove inwards, coming so close to the track I could feel the heat rushing off it.
Daniels started shooting again, pausing when a speck flew through the air down at the jeep.
"Grenade!" Zussman shouted.
I reached for the equipment, launching it as far as I could away from both the train and jeep. It exploded close, dangerously close, and Zussman suddenly started losing control.
"Fuck!"
I was thrown into the side of the vehicle as the jeep veered in front of the hustling train. My lungs came to my throat, my heart to my head, as I faced the front of the train head on. Zussman gave up on steering, abandoning ship as he leapt off the right side of the track.
"Jump!"
Daniels soon followed and I moved to do the same. Before I could reach the back of the jeep, however, the train began to crush the vehicle. It started to come up and off the tracks, eliciting sparks and yellow flickers of energy. My leg was pinched in the jeep as I jumped, leaving my distance shorter than it should have been.
I hit the graveled, dusty ground on my hands and knees, my palms being scraped against the roughness. My instinct told me to roll over. As soon as I did, a piece of the train flew across where'd I'd been.
My mind dizzily, faintly, watched as the train derailed all around me.