CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - ANNA

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Amelia Greene -

The wall explodes inwards, drywall and bricks raining down heavily. The smoke is something close to toxic, but it's the least of our worries at the immediate German response. "Push-in!" Pierson reminds me as he runs forwards.

I follow behind with zero hesitation, watching him immediately scurry for cover.

"We need to clear the lobby!" Turner's voice is rushed, "Zussman, take right! Aiello left with me! Stiles and Greene, second floor with Pierson!"

The sight of dozens of Germans is unsurprising but never welcomed. "On it!" Aiello replies, staying with Turner.

"They're dug in by the main staircase, far side!" Keeping my head down, I follow Pierson to the right and up the stairs. At the top, a German points his gun down at us. Pierson takes care of him, whilst I aim for the man behind him.

My thighs sting running up the stairs, and I find cover behind a stray box. "Keep your head down!" Pierson calls out, glancing at me once.

I unpin a grenade and toss it overhead, waiting for the explosion to happen before I spin and fire once more. Pierson moves ahead, and I stand up and follow.

He fires at German hiding at the left. The ground floor hardly has a better situation. I run sideways, aiming at the grand staircase in the middle of the lobby to clear a path for the others.

I was correct, it is a gorgeous hotel. Not so much, anymore, though. I circle and get to the top of the staircase, pressing bullets into the backs of the unsuspecting Germans.

I look around, it's clear. The rest of the team is regrouping downstairs, and the three of us head back down the stairs.

"The lobby is clear!" Pierson yells out to Turner. I take another quick look around just to make sure, and it looks like he's right.

"Hope that's all of them," Stiles let out in a breathy voice, winded. I blink in agreement, catching my breath.

I look up to the ceiling, hearing muffled gunfire. "The second platoon is sweeping the upper floors," Turner explains, "we need to secure the basement. On me."

Turner expertly kicks open the door, revealing a dusty staircase and a dingy hallway. "Everyone stay close." I stay behind Zussman while we make our way down.

Holding in coughs is difficult from the amount of dust and dirt in the air. The lights above are dimmed from being caked on with it, and not being replaced in years.

"Hey, Stiles," Aiello begins antagonizing Stiles, "found a little hiding spot for you."

"Screw off," Stiles replies with a monotonous voice. It was back and forth with them, it never stopped.

"Can it," Pierson's hisses. Daniels gets up to the door at the end of the hall and opens it by the handle, slowly.

It's dark in here, no lights, but there was a definite struggle as there are debris and papers strewn around. "Lights on," Pierson orders, his light already shining. It looks like storage for old files and furniture.

I stiffen hearing small whispers coming from the darkness. I move my light around, eyes narrowed as they try to adjust to the lack of light. "Sounds like a kid," Turner comments. "Daniels, still got that chocolate bar?"

"Yes, sir," Daniels replies and then reaches for the candy. I swallow, thinking of the fact that a child might be in the middle of all of this. Daniels beckons for the supposed child to come out and take in.

I gasp slightly when the blonde head sprints towards the chocolate. "Anna!" An older woman's voice calls out, reaching for the girl, with a rifle in her other hand.

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