《Second Chance War》


 1 The Beach

    JUNE 6, 1944 D-DAY NORMANDY, FRANCE


    Staff Sergeant Thomas Conlin gripped his rifle tightly in his hands, the waves crashing against his amphibious landing craft. The salt in the air from the ocean water stung his eyes and every drop that fell on his face left a splash of gritty sand. There was an absence of seagulls and other birds in the air, only the sound of teeth chattering, nervous men praying, and the roar of the ocean could be heard. The cold steel of the landing craft below his feet gave him the illusion of solid ground. He''d rather be back on the USS Texas, even if he had to put up with his sergeant. At least on the USS Texas, he wouldn''t have to be worried about running headlong into certain death.


    This wasn''t Thomas''s first rodeo into death either, he''s had a long illustrious career in the war. He was there for Africa and Italy, he chased Field Marshal Rommel, the Desert Fox, all the way back into Germany. He liberated Italy from the fascist dictator Mussolini, saw the hope in the people''s eyes. He''s come a long way and lost many of his friends, even one of his brothers died. He had the rest of his family back home in the fields of Kansas. His mother, his father, two sisters, and his sole remaining brother, who couldn''t join the war for medical reasons. Sometimes he wishes he was back home helping father tend the fields, maybe find a nice girl, and settle down. He''d seen too much death, but he knew why he was fighting. He didn''t want Hitler taking over the world, the man was a tyrant, and he needed to be removed.


    Thomas looked forward out past the men in front of him, setting his gaze on the far-off bunkers and cliffs he knew they''d be assaulting very soon. He gripped his rifle tighter, the familiar wood was already imprinted with his hands, making small grooves here and there. He''d had the same rifle they''d given him out of basic. He''d taken care of it well over the years and nearly lost it a few times. What he was doing though, well it made him nervous. He knew the Germans were well prepared for this assault, maybe not as prepared as they could have been, but as prepared as they could be given the plans that were made. The Germans had the beach fortified, there were tank traps, barbed wire, and beyond that, pillboxes filled with MG-42s and Pak-88s. They were bringing tanks along with them, but he wasn''t sure how far up the beach they would make it.


    A wave splashed over the side and soaked him from head to toe, bringing him back from his thoughts. He looked up at the sky as a formation of P-51 Mustangs flew overhead, the noise from the engines was a comfort to him as they flew past. "Angels In the Sky" they were called, having saved many men from instant annihilation in the past.


    "Thirty seconds!" The driver yelled from his position no sooner than the Mustangs flew past, flinging out three fingers just in case you didn''t hear him, though none of them were really looking. Then the captain began his pre-mission speech, hoping to raise the focus of the men at hand. Thomas didn''t really like the captain much, he was a hard ass and didn''t take shit from anybody. If you got him in trouble for something he did or should have done, you were going to be on his shit list for a week. All of the dirty and heavy lift jobs that no one wants would belong to you, you would never sleep anymore either, he''d make sure that you always had something to do.


    "Listen up! We''re going to hit that beach and I want you to keep your heads down! You all should know what to do by now, get up the beach and I''ll see you at the shingles." The shingles was a wall up the beach made up of a bunch of rocks that got deposited there by the sea. The Germans had fortified it with barbed wire fences so the whole thing stood at about five feet high. The plan was for engineers to get the Bangalore Explosives, which is basically a long tube filled with detonating powder with a pull-fuse on one end, to the shingles and blow a hole in the fencing. The captain threw out a few more orders, "Powell, Franks, Harvey take the starboard side up the beach. Conlin, Jefferson, Charles, you''re with me, we''ll move up the beach cover to cover."


    Shortly after the captain finished, the shells started dropping, a couple missed his craft, exploding harmlessly in the water with a giant accompanying spray of ocean water. Some of the crafts weren''t so lucky and got directly hit, those poor soldiers never stood a chance. The smell of burning metal and oil mixed in with the salty ocean air. Another craft got hit in the side and careened off into a second craft, sinking both of them and everyone on board. German planes flew overhead as well, battling the Mustangs and Spitfires, some of the stray bullets streaking across the water or bouncing around the inside of a landing craft in which you could see the blood and limbs flying out of.


    Ten seconds, then five, next a whistle blew as the landing craft hit the beach, and the ramp dropped. No sooner had the ramp dropped then the whizzing of machine gun fire entered, completely shredding the bodies of the men in front of him in a cloud of blood and guts. Thomas quickly climbed up the side of the craft and deftly rolled off the side into the water as the bullets continued to bounce inside the craft he just left. His world became a vision of blue and darkness as he struggled with his ammunition pouch on the front of his gear, it was weighing him down and causing him to sink. He could vaguely see other men struggling with their packs as bullets whizzed through the water, leaving trails and blood as they punctured the no longer struggling and dead soldiers.


    Thomas felt a hand grab his pack and haul him through the water. He finally breached the surface on to the sand as the violent sounds of the world resumed. He gasped for breath as he listened to the sound of bullets whizzing into the sand and other objects, seeking out defenseless soldiers to consume. He took a look at who hauled him out of the water and it was none other than his captain.


    "GET UP AND GET OFF THE BEACH CONLIN!" The captain shouted at him, then he ran over to an obstacle. It was a metal tank trap, and it did a pretty good job of blocking the German machine gun fire streaming out of the bunkers and pillboxes on the hill. Conlin got to his feet unharmed and unharmed, he lost his rifle in the water somewhere.


    He got to his feet, his boots sinking into the wet sand and ocean water. He struggled to lift each boot and run through the knee high water over the dead bodies of his fallen brothers in arms. He made it to the nearest tank trap just an obstacle behind his captain just in time to see one guy get shot in the face by the machine guns, his body fell over, his half exploded face staring up at Thomas, pouring blood onto the wet sand. A Sherman rolled off a nearby landing craft and up the beach, trying to maneuver around the tank traps when it got hit by a shell from the 88''s and it exploded, sending shrapnel and smoke everywhere. His captain waved Thomas and the other men behind him coming out of the water to move forward. Thomas advanced up to the tank trap his captain was hiding behind. The captain slid over a couple of inches to make room for Thomas.


    "Private Conlin!" He yelled over the sound of explosions and screaming men, "We need to get off this beach! We need to--" whatever he was going to say got cut off as a shell went off near them, throwing all of them into the sand. Dazed, Thomas got to his feet, trying to focus his hearing, but everything was like a silent movie in slow motion. He looked down and saw what was left of his captain, looks like he got the worst of that shell, judging by the limbs he still had left, there weren''t that many. Thomas had a few abrasions and a nasty cut across his shoulder, but that was the worst of it. He couldn''t hear worth a damn, the shell explosion which threw him to his feet dazed him and gave him a minor concussion, everything was muted around him.


    His hearing came back and he heard screaming, bullet ricochets, shells exploding. He knew what he had to do, he picked a rifle off the ground. Time to make a run for it. He peeked around the trap, the machine guns were occupied with shooting at newly arriving landing craft or other soldiers pushing up the beach. He spied a nearby obstacle not even fifteen yards ahead. He steeled himself for what he was about to do next.


    Thomas broke cover and started running towards the obstacle, one of the machine gunners in the pillbox at the top of the hill noticed him. Suddenly a hail of bullets stitched up the sand behind him, getting closer. Ten yards! Five! After a couple of feet, he threw himself at the obstacle, just as the bullets kicked up the dirt where he was at a few seconds ago. Any more time and he would have been dead. He picked up his rifle off the ground and checked it. There was too much sand and and gravel in the breech. He tossed it away, he still had his trusty pistol on him, he would just have to find another rifle.


    It seemed he and the machine gunner got into a deadly game of cat and mouse. He would move from obstacle to obstacle, whereas the machine gunner would try to fill him with holes full of lead. After a few more games of this, he was only twenty yards away from the shingles. That''s what they called the small hill of barbed wire that stretched across the beach, the first obstacle to taking the entire beach over. He looked over the beach behind him. The water was stained red by the blood of many, half of the corpses or even pieces of them, strewn about the beach by the many shells that blew them up in the first place.


    This is it he decided, do or die, twenty yards to relative safety. With a shout to encourage himself, he took a full-on sprint to the shingles. Machine gun fire nipping at his heels, kicking up dirt. Those Germans were determined to not let another soldier to the shingles. A fellow soldier who ran just behind him from a tank trap got caught in the machine gun fire and was killed instantly. His body flying forward with momentum, the limbs flopping everywhere at unnatural angles as blood from the bullet holes poured into the sand.


    Fifteen Yards! The machine guns were getting closer. Ten! He could make it, he pushed out with all of his strength. Five yards and he jumped for it, landing face first into the small hill of dirt the barbed wire sat on. Thomas made it, he was alive, but now comes the hard part. Getting past the barbed wire, but he didn''t have to really worry about that for long.


    "Private Conlin!" A shout from his left made the young soldier turn his head. Shit, it was Lieutenant Ybarra. The Lieutenant is a short stocky Mexican, he''s got a full mustache and a couple of screws loose. Always gives the most dangerous jobs to those he considers expendable, such as him. The Lieutenant waved his hand, "get over here!"


    "Sir, yes sir!" Thomas made his way over past a couple of radiomen and one of the field medics, who was attending to a man with a few bullet holes in his leg. It was a bloody mess, especially with the bones sticking out Ifragments, the man groaned only slightly.


    "Private, our men carrying the Bangers, went down just over there," Ybarra pointed out a few bullet-ridden bodies in a bloody patch of sand about eighty yards away just before a huge pit that was created from an artillery explosion. "I need you to get over there and grab that Bangalore, we''re sitting ducks here without it!" As if to emphasize his point, a German sniper blew the head off one of the nearby radiomen in a fountain of blood and gore.


    "Sir!" Thomas saluted smartly before leaving his weapon next to the LT. Normally such a thing would''ve gotten him a couple weeks of hard duty and latrine scrubbing, but he needed speed if he was to get that Banger. He dropped his tactical equipment, including his tactical belt which contained most of his supplies and his spare ammunition. He was ready.


    With explosive speed, Thomas ran from crater to crater, dodging both sniper and machine gun fire. He had to get that explosive, it was the only means of getting through the wire! Thirty yards, a shell exploded off to his left, throwing him from his feet a few inches forward. He quickly got up and rolled to the right, just in time as a line of bullets stitched the sand, intent to turn him into swiss-meat. He kept on running, he was only a few yards now. Got it! He recovered the Bangalore from the dead hands of the soldier lying there. The man was shot twice through the chest with holes as big as acorns and had only half a head, his skull was fractured in pieces.


    "Rest well brother, may God bless your soul," Thomas said a quick prayer for the dead man before he took off running with the Bangalore in hand. It was a weighty thing, three long sectioned tubes with an explosive cap at one end and a primer/detonator at the other. Perfect for blowing holes in barbed wire. He hauled ass back to the LT, dodging and ducking along the way.


    He threw himself at the dirt again having made it there and back.


    "That was some fine work Conlin, now blow a hole in this damn wire!" Ybarra turned to the radiomen next to him, "tell command that Baker One is open for business!" Thomas quickly unscrewed the back of the Bangalore after attaching it all together and primed the detonator before shoving it into the dirt just on the other side of the barbed wire.


    "Fire in the hole!"

 2 Alive Again?

    A huge explosion of dirt rendered the sky dark for a few seconds for the nearest soldiers. There was now a hole in the barbed wire fence, enough for five men to charge through abreast. A whistle blew and everyone rushed through, it was now at the point where the machine gunners on the cliffs couldn''t depress their guns low enough to shoot the troops pouring in, but they didn''t have to.


    Numerous German soldiers in bunkers and trenches below the cliffs opened fire. Tens of men were mowed down, but more took their place in the charge as they swept through the bunker, shooting, stabbing, and punching their way through the German defensive system. There was a lot of screaming and yelling as men from both sides ferociously fought each other in hand to hand and close quarter combat.


    Trench warfare was particularly brutal as the US soldiers employed the use of trench shotguns and flamethrowers. Screams of the dying and the shot echoed in the trenches and bunkers almost drowned out by the roaring of weaponry being employed in various manners. Some men even set off a few fuel canisters, sending flames sky high as German infantry near to the canisters were lit on fire or even incinerated by the ensuing fireball.


    Thomas was also part of the charge, and he made it to the first bunker with two other guys. They charged through the open door that looked as if it belongs on a ship than a bunker. They cleared the first room which just had some basic radio equipment, most likely for communication with the nearby bunkers. As they were clearing one of the rooms, a crazed German soldier with the look of death in his eyes charged out from behind a wall and tackled him to the ground, before the two men that Thomas came in with could shoot the German soldier, he stabbed Thomas in the gut several times.


    BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!


    "You german fucker!" The soldiers screamed as they shot him full of holes in a spattering mess of blood. Thomas slowly sank to the ground as his limbs lost all feeling.


    "Is this how I''m going to die? Is this what death feels like? God save me," he croaked, coughing some blood up. He had done his duty, he was ready to let go. He let the darkness take him as the sounds of the battlefield slowly faded from his hearing. From Africa to this, if he had another chance, he''d make sure he wasn''t one of the ones storming the beach. With a final exhale, he let out his final breath as death took him. The two soldiers next two him said a quick prayer for the man''s soul before they grabbed their guns and pushed on. This unfortunate young man may have died today, but the war wasn''t over for them, not yet anyways.


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------


    CAMP YOUNG, MOJAVE DESERT, CALIFORNIA, THE UNITED STATES 1941


    Deep in the Mojave Desert in California, there exists a camp full of hot-blooded young men willing to do their part for the war effort. It is here that the United States Army is training troops for what they deemed to be an inevitability, the entry of the United States into the war. Even though it was July, they were almost certain that either the Japanese or the Germans were going to make the first move on the United States. New training camps were established as quickly as they could build them, most often they were threadbare facilities with the base minimal needed. However, Camp Young was specially built for a specific purpose in mind and as such, much care was taken into its construction.


    The establishment of Camp Young went on without a hitch, and it is here that first troops of the African Campaign were being trained, or they would be if it wasn''t three in the morning. Instead, on the far side of the camp was the barracks and inside the barracks was a group of twenty young men. On one particular bunk in the corner, on the top rack, was a young man of medium build, if he worked out more, he could look like your average gym junky. He had a strong, angular chiseled face and a high brow, if they didn''t shave recruits bald, you would''ve known that he had blonde sandy hair. His eyes were blue and his arms thick with some muscle, he had been here for two weeks.


    Right now, no sound could be heard from this man, and his chest did not rise. He was in a near death state and his body was twitching as if whatever dream he was having was slowly killing him. Then his body started jerking for a second before slowly coming to a stop. Now his chest was rising slowly, in rhythm with his slow beating heart. Although all of this took a short time to describe, it really took over half an hour to happen. It was now a few minutes to four. Slowly the man''s eyes opened, then widened in shock.


    Thomas Conlin was back, he flexed his hands, pinched himself, he wasn''t dreaming. He was really truly back in the land of the living, but how? Before he could even ponder how he came back to life, the door to the barracks bust open and a shrill whistle sounded.


    "RISE AND SHINE LADIES! TODAY IS A BRAND NEW DAY!'' A tall and strong, muscular man in uniform was standing in the doorway shouting. Thomas shot to his feet and stood at attention on reflex while everyone else was slowly getting up.


    "LOOK AT YOU, IF THIS WERE AN ATTACK, WITH EXCEPTION OF RECRUIT CONLIN HERE, THE REST OF YOU WOULD BE DEAD!" The drill sergeant berated the men, the angriest scowl on his face. He looked about in his mid-thirties, but his body was chiseled as if he was still a twenty-year-old. "FASTER, MOVE IT, MOVE IT, MOVE IT!"


    The recruits were now scrambling to their feet, no longer was they tired. They stood in a perfect line on either side of the barracks just in front of their beds. The drill sergeant walked up and down, slowly inspecting the recruits before stopping at the door and turning about. He took a deep breath before he looked at them.


    "Let me tell you something," he began, "you''re all lower than maggots. Look at you, fresh off the books and straight into Boot. YOU''RE NOTHING! HEAR ME? NOTHING, BUT..." he paused for dramatic effect. "When I''m through with you, you''re gonna be the best of the best. YOU''RE GONNA KICK THE GERMANS RIGHT BACK INTO GERMANY AND OUT OF EVERY FOXHOLE THEY''RE HIDING IN, RECRUITS FALL IN, YOU''VE GOT THIRTY SECONDS TO STASH YOUR GEAR AND DRESS IN PT! I EXPECT TO SEE YOU OUTSIDE IN THIRTY-FIVE! DISMISSED!"


    As the drill sergeant walked out the door everyone scrambled to quickly dress into their PT uniforms. Thomas made his bed and dressed in his PT within the first fifteen seconds before heading outside to stand at attention before the drill sergeant. Within the next twenty seconds, most of the recruits were outside and at attention. With the exception of two people who came five seconds late. One was a tall lanky kid with glasses who looked fresh out of high school, just like everyone he was bald, but his most striking feature was his long arms. The second was a short muscular man who looked like he could hold his own in a fight, and if the crooked nose was anything to go by, he pretty much did.


    "YOU TWO FRONT AND CENTER!" Shouted the drill sergeant, "HOW IN THE BLAZES ARE YOU TWO SO SLOW! WE''RE GOING TO FIX THAT RIGHT NOW, DROP AND GIVE ME THIRTY!" The two recruits ran to the front of the sergeant and then dropped to push up position before counting up. One, two, three.


    "The rest of you," the drill sergeant looked pointedly at everyone. "Welcome to hell for the next eight weeks of your miserable pathetic lives, I''m Drill Sergeant Lloyd, and I''ll be your worst fucking nightmare."

 3 Drill Sergeant Lloyd

    Drill Sergeant Lloyd inspected his batch of recruits slowly, walking up and down the rank and file. He stopped in front of Thomas Conlin, inspecting him. Thomas gazed straight ahead, not even swiveling his eyes to look at Lloyd. The Drill Sergeant was impressed and tried every which way to get Thomas to look away or be distracted. Thomas endured it all before the Drill Sergeant took a step back and impassively gazed at Thomas.


    "Impressive recruit, what''s your name?" Asked Drill Sergeant Lloyd.


    "It''s Recruit Conlin Drill Sergeant, Sir!" Conlin replied off rote memory, gaze still straight ahead. Lloyd snorted for a second before looking at the two recruits on the ground who were on their fifteenth push-ups. "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOU TWO, STAND UP AND JOIN THE REST OF THESE MAGGOTS"


    The two recruits joined at the end of the two rows of recruits, standing at attention, not daring to move a muscle. The didn''t dare to look at the drill sergeant so they just stared straight ahead, hoping the drill sergeant wouldn''t focus on them. Coincidentally at the same time, some random recruit in the middle of the pack started snickering, instantly garnering the attention of the drill sergeant, who came barrelling over.


    "WHO DO YOU THINK YOU''RE LAUGHING AT RECRUIT MCSNICKERS?!" Drill Sergeant Lloyd wasn''t having any of that recruit''s snickering. "DROP DOWN RIGHT NOW AND GIVE ME FIFTY PUSH-UPS! GO, GO, GO!" Recruit "McSnickers", dropped straight to the ground like a thirty-pound anvil and started counting out his push-ups, he was slightly faster than the other two recruits. One..two..three..four. His slim arms which didn''t look like they contained much strength continuously pumped up and down like a steam piston.


    Drill Sergeant Lloyd paced back and forth, "Listen up, every morning at oh four hundred hours you will get up and you will be dressed and in PT uniform by no later than oh four hundred one, we will then do PT for two hours before we move onto..." Conlin spaced out as the drill sergeant was explaining the schedule. He''d heard it all, of course, this was basic, boot camp they called it. The question is, how did he get back here? He clearly died, that much is certain.


    The final scene he remembered back then. He was laying on the floor in the bunker, the crazed German soldier had been killed. He was laying there bleeding out and one of the soldiers was screaming for a medic. He was nice, looked like every other American, he was taking a compress out of his pack.


    "Hold tight, soldier, help is on the way," The man was pressing the compress to him, "Gardner where''s that goddamned medic!"


    "On his way sir! Hell of a time getting to the bunker from the shingles sir!" The other soldier replied as he was on the lookout.


    "Hang in there son don''t---Gardner help me out! We''re losing him! Hang in there son" The soldier with the compress looked at him with determination and that was the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes. Zipping back to now, he could still feel that cold steel knife stabbing into his flesh inch by inch like a needle. It slid in so easily, it felt so hot, yet so cold.


    "RECRUIT CONLIN!" Drill Sergeant Lloyd barked, "Take these two buffoons at the end of the line and Recruit McSnickers here. You''re in charge of them until the end of boot camp! Make sure they fall in line!"


    "Drill Sergeant sir!" Recruit Conlin replied without a hint of disrespect.


    "Alright, you maggots! Time for your daily dose of hell! Drop down and give ''em to me until I say otherwise!" Lloyd barked at the recruits who then immediately got into the push-up position. "Down! Up! One! Down! Up! Two!" Conlin forgot how weak his current body was, but he can ignore the burning of his muscles. He had other things on his mind than muscle exhaustion. As much as he wants to help those two soldiers who tried to save him, unfortunately, he only knew the name of one of them. Gardner...back then he was assaulting the beach with the 500th Badgers and 23rd Skulls.


    Conlin shook his head, he had plenty of time to worry about it later, for now, he should just focus on the physical training in front of him so that he could build up his strength. Yet, now that he shook the thoughts out of his head, his arms started burning with intensity. Should have just kept thinking, he gritted his teeth.


    "UP! DOWN! ON YOUR BACKS RECRUITS! SIT-UPS! LET''S GO!" Lloyd barked at them once more and a recruit off to the side looked like he was gonna puke. "YOU BETTER NOT BE PUKING ON MY GROUND RECRUIT!" The drill sergeant had unfortunately noticed this recruit. "THE HARDEST PART ISN''T EVEN HERE YET!"


    Conlin, of course, knew what the drill sergeant was talking about, and with his current body, he wasn''t looking forward to it any more than anyone else would, unless of course, they were that one guy. Yeah, he joined in three weeks later after one of the recruits here dropped out. Section Eight if he remembers right, poor bastard tried to blow his own brains out, speaking of which, maybe this time he could prevent it.


    How could he forget! Since he was just really teleported back in time somehow, couldn''t he just alter this reality with all of his accumulated knowledge of events from now until then? Couldn''t he forge his own path and become one of those prestigious Rangers? Even better if he could be a Ranger with the Pathfinder designation! He could prevent some of the miss drops on the night before the invasion! With his course set, he became more determined. Now though, it was the part that he was dreading the most. An exercise that his current body was completely unready for.


    "Stop! Everybody at attention! Drill Sergeant Lloyd smiled at everyone with a most sinister expression. "It''s time for my favorite morning activity. Recruits how do you feel like a bit of a break?"


    "We''re going on a little hike."

 4 The Twenty Mile Hike

    The desert was scorching hot, it was only eight in the morning, but the sun beat down upon them with all the fury of a sledgehammer. Not only that, but the wind brought with it an extra element of heat that was unpleasant. So far they''d been on their "hike" for about fifty minutes. Conlin was at the back of the line of soldiers running through, well maybe actually just jogging through the desert.


    "I hate this shit." The recruit in front of Thomas muttered under his breath. Unfortunately for everyone, Drill Sergeant Lloyd didn''t have a sense of humor and he had the ears of a cat.


    "DID I JUST HEAR ONE OF YOU MAGGOTS COMPLAIN?!" Lloyd shouted at them. "PICK UP THE GODDAMN PACE, I WANNA SEE YOU WORMS SQUEAL LIKE PIGS! DOUBLE TIME LET''S GO!"


    Conlin could always count on the drill sergeant to try to give them a headache at every opportunity. Of course he knew that would happen, but he didn''t do anything to prevent it, he needed to polish his body after all and get it up to speed, as long as he had sufficient strength, he could already prevent some of the deaths he had seen. Of course he couldn''t prevent all of them, but maybe if he became an all-rounder who is skilled evenly at most jobs, a jack-of-all-trades so to speak.


    The others were cursing the recruit that spoke out first, just not loud enough that the drill sergeant would hear them. Of course Conlin knew what Drill Sergeant Lloyd''s true aim was, to destabilize the platoon, turn them against each other.He just had to use all of his previous knowledge to foster the leadership skills he never gained previously.


    "Keep going bro, dig deep it''s gonna be a long one," Conlin tried to bolster the recruit in front of him, both of them were sweating bullets by now. Of course he failed and the drill sergeant also heard him.


    "RECRUIT CONLIN FRONT AND CENTER MAGGOT" Drill Sergeant Lloyd hollered at him. "LET''S SEE HOW WELL THE PLATOON LIKES YOU AFTER THEY''RE ALL FORCED TO RUN AT YOUR PACE. ANYONE WHO FALLS BEHIND FORFEITS CHOW WHEN WE GET BACK!"


    "FUCK YOU CONLIN!" "EAT A BAG OF DICKS!" The rest of the recruits were understandably upset of course. No pain no gain though, Thomas double-timed it up to the front of the file and ran slightly faster than the last guy. This did not please the drill sergeant in the slightest.


    "CONLIN YOU ROT INFESTED MAGGOT I KNOW YOU CAN RUN FASTER THAN THAT, WE''VE STILL GOT FIFTEEN MILES TO GO!" The drill sergeant paused for a second, smiled cruelly, and then added, "OR DO YOU WANT TO ADD ANOTHER FIVE TO THAT?!"


    Thomas thought about it, but it wasn''t worth the fight with the rest of the company. If he was going to work on his leadership skills, he had to have the platoon''s best interest at heart. Even at the expense of shaping his body, which he could do on his free time anyways. He hated to make everyone else run faster, but he also needed to please the drill sergeant.


    "SIR, NO SIR!" Thomas shouted in reply and sped up, some of the recruits in the back line were now starting to fall behind. It''s rough going in the uneven desert terrain, it''s been two hours since they''ve started and they''ve covered roughly six miles.


    After another two miles the recruits started dropping like flies, first it was two, then three, then five. After another three miles, twelve recruits had collapsed, and the ones that collapsed first were but specks on the horizon, barely visible if you squinted hard enough. You might even mistake them for a cactus or rolling bramble brush. Thomas of course had slowed down considerably as the stamina for his current body was reaching it''s end. However, something occurred that was beyond even his expectations.


    "ALL STOP!" Drill Sergeant Lloyd shouted. "Take five minutes recruits, rest well, then we head back."


    This had never happened in his previous life. Thomas was confused, because according to his memories, the drill sergeant should have made them get to the end of the twenty mile hike and start doing push-ups and other calisthenics before making them jog all the way back.


    Something did not sit well with this situation, this was out of character for the drill sergeant he previously knew. He couldn''t push down his gut feelings that he might have changed something. Of course by leading the company in the run he had already accomplished a small change. In his previous life he was always slacking and taking punishment from everyone for causing them to do extra calisthenics for his antics.


    "BREAK''S UP RECRUITS, GET YOUR SORRY ASSES BACK IN LINE WE MARCH BACK" Lloyd was very loud and his voice echoed for a good couple of miles in the empty and silent desert. This should not be happening. Thomas felt a horrible feeling in the pit of his gut, but he couldn''t figure out quite what was going to happen.


    All the recruits lined back up and started marching in an orderly pace according to the drill sergeant''s wishes. However, instead of marching back the way they came, they marched towards the west. A complete perpendicular course since they came from the south. Thomas groaned inwardly, the drill sergeant was way more cruel than he ever thought possible.


    They weren''t marching straight back because he intended to leave the recruits who fell behind stranded in the desert. At least that''s what Thomas thought, it was the only reason they could be marching back in a roundabout way. He couldn''t stand up to the drill sergeant as he was a recruit, but maybe, somehow he could get in touch with the camp''s commanding officer. As far as Thomas knew, he was always a fair and impartial officer.


    He had to figure out a way to stop this madness from becoming worse. If Lloyd was willing to strand twelve members of the twenty man company, who knows what other extreme methods he may be willing to employ in order to break their spirits. Knowing this though, Lloyd might simply wave it off as a character building exercise.


    As if the drill sergeant was reading his thoughts, he suddenly said, "Not to worry, they won''t be spending the night out here, I''ll arrange a pick up for them, but they''re still going without chow and they''ll have double calisthenics from now on!" As there were only eight men of the twenty man company marching together, Lloyd didn''t have to shout so everyone can hear him.


    This worried Thomas, if they were going to be picked up, then why did he still have the horrible feeling in his gut? They were almost back to camp when Thomas suddenly figured it out. They had been marching and running for almost four hours total. That meant it was eleven in the morning. Almost time for tactical studies at noon, not only were they not going to eat morning chow, but they were also going to one of Thomas''s worse subjects. He gritted his teeth.


    Thomas would have to master tactics if he wanted to come out alive and on top. At least he would have some of his knowledge to fill in the blanks, but that wasn''t going to be enough. He needed to learn to formulate his own solutions without the aid of filling in the blanks or what was the point? He needed to do and be more than he was in the past, and he was just getting started.

 5 History and Tactical Maneuvers Class 1

    All of the recruits were exhausted by the time they made it back to Camp Young, Thomas was no exception, his lungs burned and his limbs moved sluggishly to his will. True to his word, the drill sergeant did indeed send a truck out to pick up the rest of the recruits who fell behind on the hike.


    From the barracks in the northeastern part of camp, it''s about a ten minute march to the classrooms in the southwestern part of the camp. Chow hall is next to it, which is unfortunate because everyone feels sleepy after eating the slop they serve in mess hall. Thomas also found it hard to concentrate on a belly full of bad food in his previous life.


    Thomas thought about it for a second, and came to the conclusion that they did that on purpose. After all, who doesn''t feel sleepy on a full stomach?Coupled with the fact that you had to listen to an instructor drone on about the different tactics used throughout history and how they all apply to today? It was way too much for the old him to handle. This time though, he''ll make sure to stay awake if it kills him.


    It was eleven forty five and they had fifteen minutes until HTMC started. Which means in reality they had five minutes to eat, but Thomas didn''t care. He wolfed down his food and a nearby recruit looked at him aghast.


    "How can you eat this shit so fucking fast?" The recruit was a man of medium height with a hawkish looking face and piercing eyes. He wasn''t the ugliest, but he wasn''t pretty either. "Oh, the name,s McLaney by the way, I''m from New York."


    When you listened to him speak though, it sounds like he added some letters and left some out, his accent was really rough and tumble, making it sound like he said "Nu Yawk".


    "Name''s Conlin, but you can call me Thomas," Thomas replied, "Oh and we have about five minutes to eat this before we march of to the tactics classroom." Thomas was only half paying attention to McLaney, dinner was a long way away and he''d rather fill his belly full now so that he''d have energy later.


    "How do you know that shit? What are you Jesus?" A nearby recruit snickered after overhearing their small and short conversation. It was Recruit McSnickers from earlier that morning. "The name''s Joshua, not Recruit McSnickers, so don''t get any funny ideas about calling me such."


    This went on and on before too long five minutes had passed and the drill sergeant walked in.


    "All right ladies, empty your trays, it''s time for class!" Drill Sergeant Lloyd did not have to shout because the mess hall went silent shortly after he walked in. He now had a reputation of sorts for being a hard ass and willing to go to any length to put a recruit in line, even if it meant punishing everyone else with them.


    Recruits McLaney and Joshua gave Conlin the evil eye as if he was bad news or something. Neither of them wanted to go to any sort of class, they were here to learn how to be soldiers. Thomas honestly didn''t want to go to class anymore than they did.


    They all got up from their tables and one by one marched out the door whilst throwing their trays into the trash can, they were disposable after all. Drill Sergeant Lloyd gave Thomas Conlin an appraising look. He felt that the recruit wasn''t as simple as he seemed and his gut feeling tells him that Thomas might be hiding more than he let on, judging from how clean his plate was, to how he''s been during the whole days exercise and even this morning''s wake up call.


    Indeed, if the drill sergeant knew about Thomas''s previous life, he would probably tear his own hair off. Thomas noticed the drill sergeant''s odd gaze and suddenly became alarmed. It couldn''t be the drill sergeant is starting to suspect me, he thought. No, that''s impossible, nobody could know that he''s already lived through this war, in a manner of speaking. He quenched the panic, now is not the time to think about it, he could always make something up later if the drill sergeant asks him.


    After marching into the classroom, they all took their seats and waited about five minutes. It was currently five to noon, and their HTMC instructor walked in. They all stood up and saluted.


    "Afternoon recruits, my name is Instructor Wilson and you will refer to me as such, you will also not speak when not spoken to, do I make myself clear?" Instructor Wilson, looked them over and nodded as he saw a few people in the classroom who seemed to really want to be here.


    The instructor himself was a tall man, about six-three and he had the muscle to go with it. He was about in his late forties, but you really couldn''t tell unless you were studying him closely.If you asked anyone he looked more like a gym trainer or a bodybuilder than he did a classroom instructor. His face wasn''t handsome, but it wasn''t ugly either, rather plain. He was just your average soldier, or so everyone thought.


    "Listen up, I may be the instructor, but unlike yourselves, I am also a veteran of The Great War," he paused to let that sink in, it garnered a few looks of respect from some of the recruits. Thomas already knew all of this of course, but that doesn''t mean he had any less respect for the man. Instructor Wilson was know for being tough, but good. As long as you followed the rules and toed the line, he would have no problems with you.


    "Now, some of you may be wondering why bother to learn tactics, maneuvers, and the histories behind them. Let me remind you that training your body is not the only way to become a great soldier." He paused to take a quick breath, "brute strength can''t solve everything, and when your strength fails you, your mind becomes the solution. That doesn''t mean you can slack off on your physical training either." He gave a quick snort and an evil eye to some of the recruits who were only half paying attention.


    "Sometimes, your mind can be a deadlier tool than your body, your rifle, or even the man next to you in the trenches. In my class you will learn how to shape your mind into a deadly tactical tool. You will learn to read maps, to pincer the enemy, how to trick the enemy, how to trick your friends, you will learn how to think your way through a situation." Instructor Wilson gave them a giant shit eating grin. "Let''s begin."

 6 History and Tactical Maneuvers Class 2

    The class wasn''t as boring as Thomas remembered it to be. Maybe because he had adjusted his mindset or because he had lived through it all already. In the beginning of the class, Instructor Wilson taught them something they were all vaguely familiar with, the history of the United States. It''s inception as an independent power in seventeen seventy six, the formation of it''s Continental Army the year before that, and some of the tactics Washington used to route the British.


    Of course these were all topics that school vaguely covered, but here they went into much greater detail, they scrutinized it closely. They weren''t the most perfect military strategies, but for their time, and considering the arms with which they had, they were ingenious. The strategy was ingenious, but it almost failed because of how challenging it was. It bordered on impossible, Thomas mused.


    "Can anyone tell me why Washington crossed the Delaware?" Instructor Wilson asked the class. "Nobody? Well I guess I am going to have to volunteer one of you." His gaze lingered around the classroom, it stopped on Thomas, there was something about him. That unnatural calm gaze, as if he was a military veteran of war itself. Of course if Instructor Wilson knew that Thomas died towards the end of WWII and came back to life...well if he had any hair on his, he''d probably tear it all out.


    "Recruit Conlin, you''ve just volunteered yourself," Wilson smiled to himself, there was no way anyone here knew the answer, or could come up with a plausible one.


    "Sir!" Thomas replied smartly, "General George Washington crossed the Delaware because he wanted to take the isolated fort on the other side and bolster the morale and resolve of the Continental Army against the British and the Loyalists sir!"


    "Hmm. Impressive, sit down, that''s only half the answer recruit," Wilson was slightly impressed, "I didn''t expect even that much out of any of you. While it''s true that those were things they needed. It was also close to being the worst tactical blunder in the entirety of American military history."


    "First off, while it''s true that it was a victory, it was a shallow one that almost failed from it''s onset. The plan of attack called for a three pronged attack across the Delaware, with three different forces."


    "Can anyone tell me who the leaders of the three crossings were, and how many troops each of them lead? What about the kinds of arms they were bringing with them? What kinds of ships did they use to cross the Delaware?" Wilson looked over the classroom, he didn''t expect anyone to know these. However, he severely underestimated Thomas who had knowledge from a previous life.


    "Sir! Recruit Conlin can tell you some of it sir!" Thomas stood up and saluted Wilson. Wilson was intrigued, "All right recruit, tell us what you know."


    "Sir! The river crossing three force''s leaders were General George Washington, Colonel Cadwalader, and General James Ewing! Respectively, they each led a force of twenty four hundred, twelve hundred, and eight hundred troops sir!" Thomas saluted again before sitting back down. That should be enough to stand out a little bit. He didn''t want to stand out too much, he wasn''t trying to become a tactical genius.


    "That''s only the half of it recruit! Next time I expect a full and detailed answer!" Wilson snapped at Thomas, but secretly he was pleased that even one of his recruits showed that little bit of knowledge. "What Recruit Conlin said is correct, these three indeed led the attack on the garrison at Trenton. However, only Washington''s force made it across. Due to severe weather and a number of unfavorable weather conditions both General Ewing and Colonel Cadwalader couldn''t cross. Even then, Washington almost cancelled the attack."


    Wilson took a breath before continuing, "Of course, because of that they only arrived with twenty four hundred troops and they were unprotected on both flanks. They used Durham boast and other cargo vessels to cross, and thanks to Washington''s insistence, almost all of their artillery was brought over. From three-pounders to sixt-pounders. He brought a great deal of artillery which was of even greater help."


    "Of course that was just the American side, can anyone tell me what sort of tactical blunders the British committed during this short offensive?" Wilson pointedly asked the class. Some of the recruits were starting to nod off. Including one recruit Joshua "McSnickers". "Recruit McSnickers! You''ve been volunteered! Now tell me what tactical error the British committed at Trenton?"


    "Uh--I uh--" McSnickers stammered, he really didn''t pay attention in US History class. Now it was coming back to bite him in the ass. Wilson was disappointed as well. "Sit back down recruit, it''s obvious you never payed attention in school either!"


    "Now, can anyone else tell me? Recruit Conlin perhaps?" Wilson turned his gaze to Thomas. Shit! Thomas thought he was being low key enough, he didn''t realize even the little bit he threw out was enough to make Wilson focus on him. Well, maybe he can try to mislead the instructor.


    "Sir! Regretfully I only know it has something to do with spies sir!" Thomas answered half-truthfully. Wilson considered for a second and then sighed, perhaps there really wasn''t anyone talented in this batch of recruits. "Only half right, and half wrong, sit back down recruit."


    Wilson continued as Thomas sat back down, "while spies did play a role in the weak British defense, it isn''t as large as everyone thinks. While there were a couple of deserters and a spy early in the war council for this plan, ultimately their efforts led to naught. Instead, British vigilance was to blame during Christmas." Wilson drew a diagram on the board behind him, showcasing the attack and all weak points of the garrison. "What really brought their defense to a new low was the fact that the British spent all night of Christmas Eve in revelry."


    "Sentries that should have been alert, were in fact, groggy and hungover. They were woefully unprepared for the American assault they were warned was coming. No one thought that the Americans and George Washington in particular would attack the morning of Christmas Day. Vigilance, when they should have been aware, they were caught with their pants down."


    Wilson took on a stern gaze as he looked at the class, "I hope when you''re in the field you also don''t slack on your duties, no matter how boring they are. It''s the difference between life and death for those who share your post. Now, let''s talk about tonight''s assignment. Knowing all of this information, and given that you were one of the leading officers back then, come up with a sound strategy that would have either allowed all three forces to cross the river, or to increase British vigilance and preparedness at Trenton! Class dismissed!"


    As the recruits were shuffling out of the classroom, Wilson looked over and saw Thomas trying to sneak out of the door.


    "Recruit Conlin, a moment of your time, come here." Wilson called out to Thomas who then made his way over, "Stay a minute, don''t worry I''ll handle Lloyd, he''s an asshole anyways and no one likes him." He winked at Thomas. "Now, I don''t want a bullshit excuse, next time you answer in my class I want a full answer." His gaze pierced right through Thomas''s mental defenses, he was taken by surprise at the man''s intuition and gut feelings.


    "I know you''re capable of so much more, if you have any questions about tonight''s assignment, my office is at the end of the hall and to the right. Now head on over with the rest of your platoon, I think the DI is going to have you run the obstacle course," Wilson smiled all teeth at Thomas as he guided him to the door. "Good luck, knock them dead, son."

 7 The Obstacle Course

    When the recruits got to the obstacle course they were floored and blown away. It was unlike anything they''d ever seen before. It was like a giant adult playground. Everything was at least 20 feet tall. There were small forts, a small "forest" of wooden poles, barbed wire fields, tunnels. There were even fortifications crewed by some of the camp staff. The biggest eye catching fortification was the forty foot tall makeshift fort at the end of all this, even from far away it was clearly visible, especially with the giant flag at the top of it.


    Off to the side Drill Sergeant Lloyd was sitting passenger side in a motor car, it was painted olive green and had a start in a circle on the front hood and the sides of the doors. "LISTEN UP RECRUITS, WELCOME TO THE PLAYGROUND AS I LIKE TO CALL IT. THIS IS GOING TO BE YOUR HOME FOR THE NEXT THREE WEEKS, YOU WILL LIVE HERE, BREATHE HERE, LEARN TO SHIT HERE." Drill Sergeant Lloyd took a breath before he resumed his little speech.


    "THIS IS WHERE YOU WILL LEARN ALL OF YOUR FIGHTING SKILLS AND YOU WILL APPLY EVERYTHING YOU LEARNED IN TACTICS AND MANEUVERING! YOU WILL SPEND THE NEXT SIX HOURS HERE GETTING FAMILIAR WITH THIS COURSE. BUT BEFORE THAT, YOU WILL NOW FORM SQUADS! EXCEPT FOR YOU CONLIN! I''VE GOT A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU!"


    Thomas could already guess what he had in mind, in his previous life it was divided into four squads of five. Now though, he was sure that Wilson had said something Lloyd and it might be skewered in favor of one large squad, two mediums, and one small. Sure enough, his hunch was right on the money. "CONLIN YOUR SQUAD WILL CONSIST OF MCSNICKERS, MCLANEY, AND SMITH, GOOD LUCK, YOU''RE GONNA NEED IT! AS FOR THE REST OF YOU, FORM UP INTO THREE SQUADS OF SIX, FIVE, AND FIVE!"


    "YOU HAVE SIX HOURS TO COMPLETE THIS COURSE, LAST SQUAD TO REACH THE FLAG GOES WITHOUT SUPPER! GOOD LUCK!" With that the drill sergeant drove off back to the camp, which was a good mile south. Complete the obstacle course, Thomas mused. There was only one way to do that and it was a good thing he had his previous experiences.


    However, before he could detail a plan, Smith the newest member of the squad ran over babbling about a plan. "Guys we should..." Whilst he was talking, Thomas was checking him out, he was on the shorter side of a man, but still within acceptable army standard. He had light eyebrows and brown eyes just like anyone else. As the shortest man in the squad he should be perfect for a few of the obstacles on the course.


    "Hold up there Smith, we''ve got a tactics expert here already," McLaney pointed out Thomas, "this guy managed to impress the tactics instructor Wilson."


    "I had a complete plan though," Smith said before brightening up, "Alright then, let''s hear your plan."


    The whole squad turned to Thomas and looked at him expectantly. Thomas sighed, this was a bit of a headache, but he shouldn''t really complain. This was the perfect opportunity to build his leadership skills. So with that in mind he pointed at the wooden pole forest and the staff in charge of that. "First we have to go through that forest, the objective is to play cat and mouse with the staff, who will be acting as the hunters, some of those poles are as big as trees so hiding is easy."


    "What makes you say so?" McSnickers questioned Thomas, the rest of the squad nodded their heads in agreement. "If you look over there, you''ll see that there is a table with flags, you should easily be able to figure out what the objective is. It''s to train our ability to run and hide within a forested environment, even though this is a desert, you can apply this training anywhere."


    The squad was shocked, they didn''t think about it that way. The only thing that Thomas didn''t tell them is that if any other squad had the same idea, then they''d have to survive against that squad as well as the staff. It was an unorthodox training tactic to be sure, but he couldn''t question how effective it was. It allowed him to survive through many situations in Africa, and it was useful for cities as well. Basically it teaches you to maximize your surroundings to evade a superior force, whether they are well armed or numerically superior.


    "Then we should tackle the first fort, then the barbed wire and tunnels, the biggest fight is going to be at the end in that massive fort. Must be all sorts of complex mechanics to get to the top. I''m sure we won''t be able to climb up from the outside." Thomas lay out his plans and gave some sound reasoning, all based off his previous experiences. The rest of the squad agreed with him and tried making minor adjustments such as which courses to do first.


    Baseline, they all agreed to do the forest first, at least that way they can get that out of the way before the other squads come to do it. Unfortunately for them, by the time they arrived, the biggest squad which consisted of six members was also there. Thomas also recognized the squad leader, a man by the name of Daniels. In his previous life Daniels was a bully and used his broad strength to bully everyone in line. Unfortunately for Daniels, strength isn''t everything. Thomas had his previous experiences and his somewhat mediocre intelligence, that was enough to deter this wannabe for now.


    "Conlin, what a surprise, I''m guessing you thought to get here first and complete this course before anyone else would show up?" Daniels was all teeth and fake smiles. For a large guy it made him seem a bit friendlier, but Thomas knew that under the surface, he was anything but friendly.


    "Not at all Daniels, just trying to get my squad through all the obstacles before anyone else," Thomas wouldn''t back down, he couldn''t back down, he needed to give his squad a reason to respect him.


    "Well between us six and the staff members patrolling, I don''t think you have a very good chance, better luck next time!" Daniels and the rest of his squad laughed before taking their flags and heading into the forest. Thomas already had a plan in mind though, it wasn''t the best, and it could fail, but it did suit their needs.


    "All right men, I have a plan." Daniels turned to the rest of his squad and smiled. This was going to wipe the smirk right off Daniels'' face.

 8 Operation Red Herring

    Thomas and McSnickers were waiting behind a couple of somewhat large poles that were nearby each other. McSnickers thought this plan was insane, Thomas thought it might just work, and also would be a huge morale boost for the squad if it did. McLaney didn''t have an opinion, and Smith just wanted to do things his own way.


    Thinking back on it, his squad is a little bit eccentric, bits of personalities that don''t really mesh well. A few minutes ago head explained the plan while the staff member outline the objectives and rules. Everyone was given a red flag, it wasn''t really a flag so to speak but a large ribbon to be ties to your arm. Staff had yellow, Daniels'' squad had blue, and Thomas''s squad had the overwhelmingly stand out color of red.


    The way it works is you have to survive and evade all the staff and other squad members for ten minutes, how you do so is up to you, but you''re not allowed to climb the poles or slip outside the boundaries of the forest. Following this ruling, Thomas came up with Operation Red Herring, that is, to target Daniels'' squad members and lead them straight towards the staff before disappearing off into the so called forest.


    The only problem with this plan, is the staff members might not necessarily chase after Daniels'' squad, after all the staff were free to choose their targets. Should they choose to chase after his squad members, they would ultimately lose. For a small squad like his, they couldn''t afford to lose any people, while Daniels could afford to lose one or two. Surely the staff were aware of this. Hence the risk in his plan.


    "Conlin this is insane, we should be trying to hide and not play sides!" McSnickers was fiercely whispering to Thomas. "What if the guards go for us? Did you ever think of that!?"


    "Don''t worry Joshua, I''ve got this covered, and besides that''s a risk we have to take," Thomas pointed out reasonably. "We''re never going to get anywhere unless we take some risks, we don''t want to be the lowest performing squad, and the other team isn''t that bright anyways."


    "I just have some serious reservations about your plan man, I don''t wanna get screwed and have to repeat this course," McSnickers was complaining while keeping a look out for the staff who were technically guards. "There, I see one! Three o''clock!" He pointed out one of Daniels'' squad members off to their technical "right", hard to tell the direction in this forest of wooden poles.


    "Alright, I''m going to run out and draw his attention, will use our strategy to keep splitting between the trees until we run into one of the guards patrolling." Thomas got ready to sprint out from his cover, the squad member was about twenty yards away and aimlessly wandering.


    "Wait, something doesn''t seem right!" McSnickers blurted out. Indeed no sooner had he said that than two more squad members popped out from some other trees behind the squad member. So they were traveling in two three man squads. Thomas was sure that it was planned to counter his two man teams. He needed to think of a new strategy altogether now.


    "Joshua, we''ll run together. We can weave through the trees faster than they can and they''re more visible to the guards than us."


    "What if the guards come after us?"


    "They won''t, bragging rights are still something everyone wants, would you rather catch two or catch three?"


    "Good point Thomas!"


    "Get ready to run....now!" They bolted out from the "trees" together and the other squad caught sight of them.


    "Look! Over there! After them guys!" A great chase began, following which Thomas''s squad ran in the eleven o''clock direction, hoping to run into some guards. Meanwhile on the other side of the forest.


    "Man this plan is all kinds of fucked up," Smith was complaining to McLaney, "we should have just gone with my plan, at least we''d have a better chance! How come we''ve been sitting here for like five minutes and no one shows up huh?" McLaney had enough of Smith''s crap, they were both lying next to each other covered in sand so they''d blend together in the ground.


    "Shut up Smith! You''re gonna give us away, I don''t like this plan either, but you heard Drill Instructor Asshole, Conlin is the squad leader!" McLaney reprimanded Smith who then shut his mouth and stared at McLaney like he was hearing things. "Look there''s a guard over there!" He pointed out a guard not even thirty yards away who walked out behind some trees. He already had two blue flags on his belt, in addition to the yellow one on his arm.


    "Shit, he caught two of Daniels'' men, wait, hopefully he caught Daniels, that would be hilarious!" Smith whispered while trying not to laugh. He lost his laughter after that because soon after two more guards appeared, they had one red flag each. He looked at McLaney and then whispered, "Shit, they got Conlin and McSnickers?"


    "Obviously not you dumb ass," McLaney retorted, "the guards are obviously cheating, think about it! Conlin had their whole route memorized, but I don''t know how he knew all that. It doesn''t matter, what matters is that they appeared on time, who cares if they have fake or real flags, we just need to survive for about five more minutes and we win!"


    "Shit, you''re right, how could I be so stupid, let''s try to sneak past them, there is obviously no one coming this way," Smith suggested. McLaney agreed and so they slowly backed away through the dirt and sand, crawling the whole time.


    Meanwhile two hundred yards to the east, Thomas and Joshua caught sight of Daniels alone, earlier they had run into a group of four guards who then gave chase to not only them but the three stooges behind them. After a few crafty tricks and some false leads, they managed to shake them.


    "Look! Daniels is alone, we can take him!" Joshua pointed towards Daniels, "if we can take his flag that would piss him the hell off!"


    "You''re right Josh, but we''ve got to approach this carefully, we don''t know if he''s alone." Thomas was trying to figure out a plan of action, but then Daniels turned towards their position. Almost as if he had known they would be there he yelled out, "Come out Conlin, I know you''re there, I can sense it and my gut never lies!"


    Shit! Thomas didn''t think that he had instincts that sharp, no wonder he was such a bully previously. Well there was only one way to establish superiority in this situation, he''s got to outmaneuver Daniels. Hopefully the other two had filled their end of the plan. Otherwise this was going to be the longest five minutes he''d ever had.

 9 Conlin vs Daniels

    On the other side of the forest, McLaney and Smith had managed to get away from the guards and were slowly circling the forest. It took them five minutes to do so, but it seems that something happened, because it had been ten minutes, but there was no announcement that they had passed this course. There was of course a communication system set up so they could let recruits know when the ten minutes were up, but nothing was said.


    Suddenly the communications came on and from old broadcast speakers they couldn''t see, they heard the drill sergeant''s voice, "Welcome to hell boys! Normally it''d be a ten minute survival situation, but since recruits Conlin and Daniels get along with each other so well, I''ve decided to add a rule! The course doesn''t end until either Daniels or Conlin is eliminated, of course, the guards will still be patrolling, so if they catch you and take all of your team''s flags away, this also results in a fail!" Drill Sergeant Lloyd''s cruel laughter could be heard across the course. "You think the Germans will go easy on you? We may not be in the war yet, but make no mistake, we will be. By then you''ll have much bigger things on your plate to worry about rather than this child''s game you''re all playing."


    "I''m not gonna go easy on any of you, oh and by the way, you have ten minutes. After ten minutes both teams fail. Good luck recruits, godspeed." Drill Sergeant Lloyd disconnected the mic, the recruits were on their own and with their competitive spirit it turned into a real ten minute survival game. Conlin and Daniels looked at each other for a split second before Conlin took off running. He was no match for Daniels right now, that man could snap his arm like a twig, the only way he''d be able to beat him is by outwitting him.


    "Think Conlin, think!" Thomas racked his brains, there really wasn''t any way to hide around here and he couldn''t climb the poles. He could try hiding in the, wait, that wouldn''t work. If Joshua wasn''t captured by Daniels by now then he could try to gather the rest of his teammates. That might work if they come at him by all sides, he couldn''t possibly take everyone on. He also isn''t smart enough to just go after him, he has his pride. Excellent, now that he''s formed a plan, Thomas can carry it out.


    Somewhere in the forest of poles and sad, after having heard the announcement and run away from the guards, McLaney and Smith were crouched down behind a couple of rather thick and large trees. They were also trying to come up with their own battle plan, but they were thinking along radically different lines than Thomas.


    "So we can hide, but you heard the announcement McLaney! Neither team wins unless either Conlin or Daniels goes down!" Smith was just as lost as McLaney.


    "I know Smith, I know! Just shut up and let me think for a moment." McLaney was exasperated and slightly annoyed by Smith''s less than stellar explanations that even a little kid would notice."We could always regroup with the others, Conlin and McSnickers should be together still right?"


    "There''s no guarantee to that, for all we know Conlin could have left him to Daniels," Smith pointed out. "What we need is a radical solution, something that no one would ever think of or dare to do."


    "You''re right Smith, but aside from knocking out a couple of guards and taking their flags, we really don''t have much." McLaney was lamenting about the lack of options when Smith''s face brightened up. "That'' it! We''ll knock a couple of guards and steal their flags, maybe their shirts too, no one would really notice, I mean they dress in PT underneath those uniforms anyways!"


    "I don''t know Smith, we could get in a lot of trouble for it."


    "Come on McLaney, this is a survival course! We''ve only got about eight minutes left, this is our best course of option, we can deal with the consequences later!" It was at this moment that a couple of guards came out from behind a couple of trees about forty yards off. They hadn''t spotted the two squad mates yet, they were still cautiously poking around.


    "It''s do or fail McLaney, we''re going after those walking disguises!" Smith declared as he started moving stealthily across the forest.


    "Shit!, We needed a better plan!" Muttered McLaney under his breath, but he still followed Smith anyways. No sense in letting him attempt this alone.


    Across the forest about ninety or so yards off, Thomas was still running, although much slower now. He was quickly reaching his stamina limit, he quickly flitted behind one of the wooden poles that made up the "trees" of this sandy "forest". He stood behind it trying to gain back what little stamina was left, five minutes left until this charade ends in a mutual loss, Thomas thought. He felt a tap on his shoulder and he just about jumped out of his boots when he saw the guard uniforms, then he recognized the faces.


    "Smith, McLaney, is that you?" Thomas whispered, he was a little confused.


    Yeah, Thomas it''s us, listen we''ve got a plan, it''s a little risky, but it''s a sure fire way to get Daniels'' flag!" Smith was excited as he detailed out his plan. It truly was a risk taker and assumed many things. They must normally be breaking around a dozen or so camp rules by doing this, but hey, whatever it takes. As long as they caught Daniels it truly didn''t matter how. As the good drill sergeant said, the Germans won''t show mercy, so why should they?


    Three minutes left to go and Daniels had finally caught up to them, he looked like a mess. Just as he passed a couple of poles, two guards came out from behind him. He turned and then took off running like a hare from a fox! He never noticed that their armbands weren''t yellow, but blue! As Daniels took off running, time kept plummeting, down to the last minute when suddenly from the side came Thomas, tackling Daniels to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs. They wrestled for a few seconds before Thomas was able to put Daniels in an arm bar and he forcefully ripped off his flag from his arm. He did it! He secured victory from the jaws of uncertainty!


    The intercoms blared to life as Drill Sergeant Lloyd''s voice echoed out among the forest, "Congratulations Squad Conlin, you''ve taken Daniels flag successfully resulting in course completion for your entire squad, and you didn''t lose a man to boot. Impressive, as for you Daniels, not only did you sacrifice a few of your squad you didn''t even complete your objective! A waste of men and resources, you''re demoted and no longer squad leader." He paused a minute, then continued, "I''m sure you''ve already figured out the layout of The Playground Conlin, take your squad over to the next obstacle. Daniels, you and the rest of your squad mates will remain here to repeat the course. Oh and Smith and McLaney, take those damn uniforms off and hand them into the nearest MP. Lloyd out,"


    Thomas and his squad were ecstatic, they secured victory without a single loss which for Thomas was a first in both his lives! Most of the rest of the obstacles were going to be damned easy to do, with the exception of the fort at the end. They could worry about that later though, for now, they''ll just take it easy and head for the next obstacle, the adult sized mini fort.

 10 Conlins Files

    Thomas and his squad cleared the rest of the obstacles with relative ease. Being the shortest, there were some obstacles Smith needed help with. Such as the wall climbing, it took a couple of running jumps to get a hold of Thomas''s hand so he could climb over the wall. Other obstacles posed a whole challenge for the team such as the rope bridge, if you imbalance your squad''s weight distribution the whole thing flips over and the whole squad drops down into a muddy pit of sand and dirt below. How they even get it to keep wet the whole day nobody knows, they''re in a desert.


    Eventually after three hours they had cleared all the obstacles with a good amount of speed. They weren''t the fastest, but they were the first, most of the other squads got stuck on the first obstacle that they did. If you were to ask Thomas it was more like a playground for adults than an obstacle course, but he couldn''t deny that after the morning calisthenics, then the quick rest in class and then this, well he felt stronger than before. He was sure the rest of the squad felt the same, even if they still looked like scrawny not muscular men. That would slowly change.


    They only had one more obstacle to go, the giant fort at the end, three hundred yards away. Thomas knew getting there wasn''t simple, it was pretty much a combination of everything they had done so far. Minus the pole forest of course. The first fifty yards was a barbed wire crawl, the next hundred yards was filled with walls, trenches, balance beams, and more. Then the final hundred and fifty yards were tunnel mazes, why anyone would make an obstacle course like this was beyond Thomas. Even in his previous life he felt it was a bit excessive for the military. Thomas waved his squad forward, prepared to traverse the obstacles.


    Elsewhere within the fort straight ahead of Thomas and his squad, in a room completely closed off to the rest of the fort sat two men with a whole view of the obstacle course. One of these men was of course, Drill Sergeant Lloyd. Lloyd looked at the other man with a measure of respect and due diligence, it seems his background wasn''t simple at all.


    "We have his file here, if you want it sir" Lloyd dare not be disrespectful in front of this figure.


    "I''ve already read his file, it''s useless, it doesn''t tell me anything we don''t already know." The man had a steady voice, a little on the grizzled side, he sounded like the bad cop during an interrogation in the middle of a TV drama. His features, cloaked in darkness, remain to be seen. "Grew up in Los Angeles California, born with no deformities, has two elder brothers, one younger sister. His father is a vet from The Great War, and his mother works as a waitress. He went to John Hopkins Elementary, average grades, then went on to Washington Middle School, moved on to Elmerton High School. He didn''t achieve much and was known as a slacker. Did I miss anything?"


    "No sir, but our psych profile has shown something unusual, as you know we test everyone who enters the military," Lloyd paused before tossing a file onto the table. "His psych profile suggest that he is unusually calm and collected even in the face of dangerous situations, take a look at this one here." Lloyd pointed out to a particular article in the folder.


    "Hmm, stopped a bank heist at the age of fifteen. the news article states that it all happened so fast and he was already moving on them before they even drew their guns to rob the bank." The man paused, already suspicious of this "Thomas Conlin". "It''s almost as if the man knew what was going to happen even before it does, future cognizance? No, can''t be, his ESP profile is way too low." The man paused, taking a few seconds to collect his thoughts, muttering under his breath, tossing out idea after idea.


    "You know we established Camp Young for one specific reason drill sergeant." The man stared across the table from Lloyd, fingers tapping on the table. "I can''t help but think this is related to that, but after going through all of my options that is the only thing I can think of."


    "Sir?" Drill Sergeant Lloyd was confused, he had no clue what the man was referring to.


    "Never you mind, it will suffice for you to know that we are paying very close attention to Thomas Conlin now, if that is indeed who he really is. Up the training regimen, I want to see what this Thomas is really capable of." The man snapped before leaning back in his chair, hands folded on his lap.


    "Sir! Yes sir!" Drill Sergeant Lloyd saluted smartly as he stood up, then walked through a revolving door at the end of the room, leaving the man to sit there, contemplating the answer to his current problem, then he sighed. "Thomas you''ve got a long road ahead of you and I don''t envy you for it at all. Even if this life is fabricated."


    The man slowly shook his head and stood up before crossing over to the two way window which had a view of the whole course. The light from the window briefly illuminated his should revealing a the gold oak leaf cluster of a Major and underneath that the acronym OSS.


    "Nazi experiments with unintended consequences hmm?" The man took out a cigar and lit it before taking a nice long drag, the light briefly illuminating half of his face, the half covered in gruesome scars and wounds. "Let''s hope this boon from the future turns out to be a help and not a hindrance." Ashes fell from his cigar slowly to the floor, settling there like dead blackened snow flakes before a slight draft blew them away to vanish into the air. Thomas Conlin was now a watched man who attracted the wrong sort of attention without even knowing it.

 11 Push Forward; Memories of the Fort!

    After crawling through the sand under barbed wire with live fire overhead, Thomas felt straight at home. His squad however, not so much.


    "Fuck me, why are they using live ammunition?" Smith complained loudly, his voice competing with the roar of the machine guns from both sides of the barbed wire field. He yelped as a bullet bounced off some of the barbed wire above his head. They''d only manage to cross ten yards of the fifty yard field in one hour, for some reason after they started crossing, the machine gun fire became more intense.


    "Just shut up Smith! Your boot is in my face!" McLaney was struggling right behind Smith who''s boot was indeed in his face. "Besides, it''s not that bad, once you get used to the bullets flying overhead."


    "I don''t want to get used to the bullets flying overhead! I want to get that flag and get some chow!" Smith retorted.


    "Can it you two, just focus on crawling across this field, we''ve got bigger problems than bullets overhead." Thomas finally snapped, normally he could stand these two, one lifetime of them arguing was enough for him, let alone two lifetimes. On top of that, he had the feeling that something was wrong, but he couldn''t figure out what.


    Thomas and his squad made about another thirty meters progress under the barbed wire, which was awfully cramped right now, it seems the farther you get the lower the barbed wire gets; on top of that, the machine gunfire was getting more intense to the point where they were kicking up the sand in front of their faces and blinding them. They gritted their teeth and kept crawling, the soft sand and hard dirt underneath them giving the distinct impression of both giving way and compacting. This made it even harder for them to advance with their tired and exhausted bodies.


    "Come on, we''re almost there!" Thomas tried to bolster his squad with encouraging words, "just a few more yards and we''ll be through this hell!" After having been through a lot of hell today, his squad was trusting towards him, his attempts to bolster their spirits were successful.


    "He''s right! It''s just a stupid bit of sand and a few yards of ground!" Smith spat out, being the shortest he had to work almost twice as hard to cover just as much ground. Eight yards, then five, and before they realized it they were free and the machine gun fire stopped. "Shit, we made it? We made it!" Smith was happy. "Just think of how much ammunition those bastards wasted on us! Hahaha!" He laughed pretty joyously. "On to the next one!"


    After another hour, they were sitting four hours out of the allotted six, with most of the three hundred yards of obstacles done. If you asked anyone about the funniest thing they had seen all day that day, they would have replied Smith trying to jump the wall. Apparently no matter how high he tried to jump, it looked like a retarded frog trying to jump onto a rock only slightly bigger than itself.


    It might be more apt to describe a grasshopper constantly jumping into a wall instead of over it, only to land on it''s ass time and time again. Finally, Thomas had to droop himself over the wall and pull Smith up and over.


    Now they stood in front of the giant fort, which if Thomas remembered right, was named, Fort Excellence. Thomas chuckled when he remembered why, that day was pretty clear in his mind and it happened after a few weeks of all the squads struggling. They were all assembled right here by Drill Sergeant Lloyd, and it was much like any other day, desert heat, shining sun, dusty winds. Thomas spaced out as he started to remember the memories, they almost felt like they weren''t his, almost.


    They stood there, two lines of ten recruits, all tired, hungry, and exhausted. The sun beating the sweat down their necks, curious gazes looking respectfully at the drill sergeant, their direct superior.


    After a grueling day of clearing the obstacles all of the recruits wanted to get some chow, a shower maybe, but definitely some food. Fighting for six hours would make anyone exhausted and hungry, but they had to stand in the ninety degree sweltering heat at parade attention in front of the massive fort they were all fighting to reach.


    "Listen up recruits! The massive fort you stand in front of today," the drill sergeant paused. "The fort you stand in front of today is only for those who excel against all others, you want to claim the flag at the top?" He pointed towards the flag at the top of the fort.


    "THEN YOU''VE GOT TO WANT IT!" He roared at them. "ONLY THOSE WILLING TO STEP ON EVERYONE ELSE, THOSE WILLING TO CLAW, PUSH, SHOVE EVERYONE ELSE BELOW CAN CLAIM THIS FLAG!!" He gazed at everyone with the intensity of a thousand suns, no, with a passion more fierce than a true love story. "This is Fort Excellence and only those who are the best, who are excellent in every regard can forge a path to top and claim victory and glory. I won''t lie. It''s a team effort, no one can claim victory alone, at the top there can only be one victor, but it takes a dozen men to propel him there."


    "I know that many of you are hungry, many of you are tired," the drill sergeant was hitting a climax in his speech, BUT IF YOU SHOULD HUNGER, HUNGER FOR VICTORY! IF YOU SHOULD TIRE, THEN TIRE OF THE CHAINS OF WEAKNESS AND LIMITED STRENGTH THAT HOLD YOU BACK! CAST OFF YOUR SHELL AND REACH DEEP INSIDE YOURSELVES FOR EVERY BIT OF POTENTIAL YOU CAN FIND AND CLIMB TO THE TOP! YOU ARE NOT ALONE, YOUR BROTHERS IN ARMS STAND SHOULDER TO SHOULDER WITH YOU, THE NAZIS, THE JAPANESE, THE ITALIANS, NONE OF THEM HAVE WHAT YOU HAVE! THE INDOMITABLE AMERICAN SPIRIT! PICK YOURSELVES UP AND CHARGE INTO THAT FORT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! CLAIM VICTORY! BE VICTORIOUS! DISMISSED!"


    Drill Sergeant Lloyd gave the recruits passion and focus a target, they found themselves revitalized and rejuvenated. They were not hungry, they were not tired, they thirsted for the sweet wine of victory. All of the recruits roared as they got into their respective squads and charged into the fort. At the end of the massive melee and search for the way to the top, it was not Thomas''s squad that raised the flag, but that of another. Then he was brought back to the present, the journey into his memories taking but a moment in time.He looked around at his current squad, they weren''t the best, but they had what it takes. He just had to drag it out of them, by force if necessary.


    "All right men, get ready to head inside, I doubt this is as simple as I think it''s going to be." Thomas cautioned his squad to be ready for anything. "This course wasn''t simple and the rules have changed several times, be ready for anything. Let''s go." He assigned McLaney as the point man being that he had the most muscle mass and he was also on the tall side. Being the shortest, Smith was rear guard. Thomas and Joshua in the middle as they headed into the fort, their figured disappearing from view one by one.

 12 Victory: Fort Excellence

    As Thomas and his squad entered the vast fort, Thomas found that the interior was similar to some of the castles at Monte Cassino in Italy. If so, then the layout should be the same. He can''t take any chances though, not here. Sure they were only allowed to use hand to hand combat which the others in his squad probably didn''t know. He just couldn''t take the chance, they had to stay together. The fort was already unlike his previous life in interior appearance, who know if it was changed any further. He felt like someone was watching him and changing things accordingly.


    "Group up, stay together!" Thomas motioned with his hand in a circle above his head, "we don''t need to take the risk of splitting up and encountering anyone else."


    "Sir, what if it''s more of a detriment to stay together than to split up? We can cover more ground right?" McLaney asked.


    "You''re right McLaney, but sometimes the best option is not to split up, even if it''s to cover more ground it can be potentially fatal to the mission, on top of that we only have four of us, it''s even riskier to split up. We''re not commandos, we''re just regular troops." Thomas explained.


    "Thomas is right, it''s much safer to stick together." Smith agreed.


    "Shut it Smith, you''re just scared of running into something or someone," countered McSnickers.


    "Shut it both of you!" Thomas said. "We don''t have time for this, let''s just explore the first floor, see if we can find some information, maybe a map of the fort." With that Thomas signaled for McLaney to keep moving, they went down the right corridor from the main hall. Here the corridor branched into five different rooms, they broke into the first door by kicking it down. It was a sparse room, not much in it besides an aerial picture of Camp Young on the wall.


    "Next room, go!" Thomas shouted and they quickly scuttled to the next room, McLaney kicked down that door too. There was a bed and some chairs, a quick search revealed nothing. They moved on systematically from room to room. In one room they found a 30s pornography collection complete with stains, another room was filled with giant ducks, and the most dangerous room was filled with a modified machine gun that flings rubber balls at high rates of fire. It was truly disconcerting.


    They reconvened at the main entrance, the first floor wasn''t entirely out of expectations. However, it was not as dangerous as they feared. The second floor onward will be a headache. If Thomas can remember right, the fort should be five floors high, they would need to clear each floor before they proceeded. Due diligence, it pays to be aware of what''s around you, and in this case, what''s in each room on each floor. An exercise in caution and room clearing tactics, Thomas had done all this before.


    Thomas wasn''t sure, they felt like familiar memories, but at the same time they felt foreign to him. He pushed the feeling aside, now was not the time to get distracted. He had a job to do, he had to lead these men to the top, he had to lead them to victory. These men were counting on him and every decision he made counted.


    It was at this moment that the tiny seeds of leadership formed within his spirit, molding Thomas from the inside out. He had now truly stepped off the path he had known from his previous life and embarked on the unknown. It was a truly fearsome and awe inspiring sight that would have sent chills down anyone''s spine. The planting of the seeds of leadership gave Thomas a new direction and some of the memories within him that had been repressed were now available.


    Memories of his time in Africa, leading the charge on German Flak-88 and other anti-tank positions, the battles of El Alamein, the fierce fighting in Sicily, Monte Cassino, and many other places he''d been to. He felt empowered, but not invincible. He knew there were still many things he could not do, but right now, here, in this place? He was doing the only thing that mattered, the only thing standing between him and his memories of this place. Grasping victory by the shaft and waving it in the face of all the other squads in the platoon.


    His renewed sense of vigor and leadership allowed him to gain greater command of his squad, more precise instructions were given on the second floor. Smith breached doors first, being the shortest only his head was a discernible target, which was ideal when breaking down doors. First room cleared, it only had a crossbow which triggered an arrow covered in melted marshmallows dyed a blood red color, it missed Smith by two inches. Room by room they cleared the second floor, and found more "intelligence" in a bunk room, some of the most recent pornography magazines were hidden under a mattress.


    In a similar fashion they cleared the third floor, despite many of the rooms being there merely for decoration. There were more traps on the third floor than the second floor for sure, at the minimum it would just be a harmless trap capable of embarrassing for just a few short weeks to traps fully capable of putting you out of commission for a month. There was a trap in one of the rooms that could be considered a child''s prank, but it wasted a good twenty minutes of time and slowed down the team when it knocked McSnickers out for ten minutes. By the time they cleared the third floor, they had a fifty minutes left until the six hour mark.


    They knocked out the fourth floor after twenty minutes, since they were vigilant for knock out traps they didn''t fall for the same trick twice, of course one room had gas in it that made your eyes water and your sinuses burn. Everyone of them hated that room, but no one was seriously hurt so they moved on. They collected more magazines just like previous floors and moved on to the fifth floor with twenty minutes to spare. Just enough time to either search for more magazines or reach the roof and complete the objective. Thomas had a tough decision to make, one of many to come.


    "All right men, from here we can either search for more of this so called evidence, or we can complete the objective within the time marked," said Thomas.


    "The other teams have to be in here by now right," asked Smith.


    "That''s right, they should at least be on the second floor by now and rushing, that''s why I said, we can either search for more evidence or complete the objective," replied Thomas.


    "Well it''s simple really, we came here for the objective, any evidence we find is secondary," said McLaney, he was all for moving on to the objective.


    "What if this so called evidence is really important for the next operation," countered McSnickers.


    "They''re both right Thomas,but I''d have to go with McLaney on this one," said Smith, who hardly ever saw eye to eye with McLaney.


    "That''s what we''ll do then," Thomas decided. "We''ve gathered most of the intelligence and if this were a real mission, I''m sure HQ analysts would be able to make sense of what we brought given time. All right men get ready to move." Thomas and the squad searched for the stairs or ladder to the roof, he wasn''t sure which one it would be. From two floors below they could hear people shouting and breaking things as they discovered that the rooms had already been searched.


    After ten minutes they found a ladder leading up, just in time as one of the teams managed to get to the fifth floor, they heard them shouting and cursing as they stumbled up the stairs. Thomas and squad climbed up the ladder in a hurry, and finally they got to the top of the fort. The flag was right there! Caution was thrown to the wind and they rushed for it. Bad mistake, they triggered a tripwire hidden just out of sight, it caused a large chain reaction in which Smith, who was the first to trigger the trap, was snatched up by a solid rope and yanked off the roof.


    "Smith!" Yelled McLaney, "Smith!!" He tried to jump after him, but he was pulled back by Thomas.


    "WHAT ARE YOU DOING HE''S GONE! GO! THE OBJECTIVE IS RIGHT THERE!" Thomas roared, he knew this was a vital leadership moment, whatever he did right here was being watched.


    "I WON''T LEAVE SMITH BEHIND!" McLaney fired back, instinctively he knew that Smith would want him to finish the mission, but he couldn''t do it. "WE DON''T LEAVE MEN BEHIND!"


    "DAMN RIGHT WE DON''T! WE''LL LOOK FOR HIM AFTER, COME ON!" Thomas brought McLaney back on track and the trio made it to the flag, grasping it by the hilt, all three of them lifted it off it''s holder and waved it above the fort in victory. One of the squads managed to make it up just in time to witness this and they fell to their knees in utter defeat, their spirit broken. McLaney had tears in his eyes for Smith whom he considered dead, McSnickers was ecstatic, and Thomas had a proud look, they had ascended, above all the other squads they clawed their way to the to and grabbed victory by the shaft.


    From an outpost on a hill not far off, Drill Sergeant Lloyd watched the entire thing through binoculars and a primitive camera system in black and white, the system hardly worked, but the Office of Strategic Services promised a working model by the end of nineteen forty-five. He smiled and waved a corporal over. The corporal saluted smartly, "Sir!"


    "Get a medic and a truck transport ready for Smith," Lloyd ordered, "I have some goddamn soldiers to meet."

 13 Private

    Right after their victory, Thomas and the rest of his squad descended from the fort as fast as humanely possible, shoving all the other squads out of their way. When they reached the bottom they couldn''t find Smith or his body, it was like someone was cleaning house while they were up there playing the part of the victors. Then they received orders to return to the camp and report in to the drill sergeant.


    "This is seriously fucked up," complained McSnickers. "We don''t even know if he''s alive or dead and now we have to return? For what?!"


    "I don''t like it any more than you do, but orders are orders and honestly, he couldn''t have fallen far. I smell Lloyd all over this," said Thomas. They trudged on, the fifteen minute walk back was fraught with deafening silence. The squad mulled over what they had just seen, the victory they held with their hands, and the sacrifice they had seen. They weren''t ready for it, not by a long shot and each of them knew it. Yet, on a more subtle level, they had all been changed by it in some sort of way, they knew it would happen a lot more in the future. They weren''t ready now, but they will be.


    After another ten minutes of travel they marched into Camp HQ, it was a modest building. Certainly the biggest building in the camp, but that''s because it was HQ and Logistics rolled into one instead of having separate buildings for each. The inside was very spartan, being a military HQ there were no waiting chairs, there was a desk sergeant. He directed them down the hall and to the left, second to last door on the right. Upon arrival they found an office with Drill Sergeant Lloyd written on the door, there was also a Drill Sergeant Faraday, but they didn''t concern themselves with the name because he wasn''t their drill sergeant.


    Thomas knocked on the door and he soon received a muffled enter. Upon pushing open the door, he let his gaze take in the room in a second. There were two desks, two chairs, a couple of small tables, and a lot of paper. Paper was laying everywhere in stacks, he skimmed the tops and found most of it was field reports on the various platoons and companies of recruits in the camp. There was a list of platoons and companies ranked in order and divided further into squads. Thomas found that his squad was in Platoon Charlie, which with three other platoons made up the entirety of Alpha Company. He tore his eyes away from the paper and his gaze landed on the drill sergeant seated on the desk in front of him.


    "Sir!" Thomas and squad saluted in unison. "At ease," replied Drill Sergeant Lloyd. He motioned for them to close the door before addressing their concerns.


    "First of all, congratulations for passing my obstacle course, this being an entirely new base, I can say with complete confidence that no one has topped your score so far. As far as Smith is concerned," he looked at them pointedly, "well let''s just say he''s not dead. Do you really think I''d kill my own recruits, in my boot camp? He''s severely injured and has been transferred to Los Angeles for medical."


    The drill sergeant''s words gave the squad a bit of relief, sad that they''d never see him again, but happy he wasn''t dead nonetheless. The drill sergeant could see that he eased their minds of that one particular burden, he nodded his head. He was satisfied at their progress, they were well on their way to becoming real soldiers.


    "Now, on to business, because time is short. You''re not allowed to repeat whatever is said in this room to anyone else. Understood?" Thomas and squad saluted again, a show of understanding. "Good, now on to the agenda. First things first, Conlin, command has seen fit to give you an early promotion on account of your leadership skills. Congratulations Private." Drill Sergeant Lloyd held out a small case containing one chevron for the rank of private. "As of this moment, you''re head and shoulders above the other recruits and you need to show them how it''s done."


    "Sir! Thank you Sir!" Thomas saluted the drill sergeant, even he was surprised at the day three promotion, he hadn''t even been here a week yet. This had Office of Strategic Services all over it, but Thomas said nothing about it. It''s not his business, and poking his nose in it would only result in provoking a negative reaction.


    "Now, on to the second thing, aside from your morning calisthenics, command has seen fit to make you an official squad, you will now be Able Squad, you''ll receive two more recruits in the morning. Conlin, make sure you keep them in line, I hear they''re gifted, but quite the troublemakers." The drill sergeant paused for a second. "In light of your accomplishments today, you''ll all be starting firearms training next week with Bravo Company instead of the week after with the rest of Alpha Company. Command sees a lot of potential in you, don''t let them down, take the rest of tonight for yourselves, dismissed."


    The drill sergeant waved them out, he had other things to do, and that was fine with Thomas. He needed time to mull things over. It was not unheard of to be promoted in boot camp, indeed some people reached the highest rank you can get, which was Corporal. However, to get promoted three days in? He couldn''t wrap his head around it. He shook his head while heading back to the barracks, he needed to get some rest for tomorrow and think about some things.


    Drill Sergeant Lloyd sighed and the recruits and one newly minted private left his office. There were a lot of things he also didn''t understand about the orders he received, but orders were orders and just like the recruits here, he was just a soldier. He thumbed through the files on his desk and began his long hours of work, hell if anyone around here didn''t get any sleep and worked the hardest, it was probably him. After a few hours of sorting files, the desk sergeant came in.


    "Sir! New orders sir!" The sergeant dropped a file on his desk, saluted sharply and left. Lloyd waited until after he closed the door and the sound of the soldier''s orderly footsteps faded. Then he looked at the manila folder he received. It had EYES ONLY, DESTROY AFTER VIEWING stamped in red across the front, it looked like serious business. He opened the folder, the first page was a letter addressed to him from the Office of Strategic Services. It detailed what he was about to read and that he should in no circumstances let anyone else read the following papers.


    He got up and walked over to the door, locking it. Faraday wasn''t due back until tomorrow, he had time to swallow this. After the initial page was a smaller folder, OPERATION KINGMAKER stamped in black, double underline in red. He flipped past that, the contents within the folder were unbelievable. His eyes narrowed as he read the contents, then his brows furrowed, and he finally ended it with a shocked expression. This plan was too ambitious, but if it worked... He took a match and lit the whole thing on fire, he watched it burn to ash. There was too much riding on this new plan.


    He stood up and strode to the door, he had a lot to do, and way too little time to do it. He paused at the door, looked back at the pile of ash on his desk and shook his head. God help them all, but most importantly, he hoped it wouldn''t break his newest private. He went to find the desk sergeant, there were new orders to give out, tomorrow was just the beginning.

 14 Project Kingmaker 1

    The next morning Thomas had gathered the squad for PT when two men jogged over in their PT outfits.


    "Recruit Brooks and Hardy reporting for duty sir!" The two recruits named Hardy and Brooks saluted Thomas. Thomas looked them over, they were nearly the same height, both medium builds slightly on the muscular side. Brooks had a thick brows and a face that could only be described as intimidating. Meanwhile Hardy had a hawkish face with a somewhat pointed nose, his eyebrows were pretty light on hair in comparison. They both looked like trouble.


    "At ease, fall in line recruits." Thomas waved them over and they stood at attention with the rest of the platoon, awaiting the arrival of the drill sergeant. Suddenly they heard the roar of an engine and a loud honk as one of the army jeeps came screeching down the parade grounds. Thomas and squad were in the front row and saw that it was crewed only by the driver who also happened to be the desk sergeant they saw last night.


    The jeep stopped in front of Thomas and his squad, "Conlin, you and your squad climb in, new orders from the top," the sergeant ordered.


    "Sir!" Thomas and his squad left formation and climbed into the jeep, with the roar of an engine and a couple of honks it took off across the parade grounds. They drove out of Camp Young, Thomas had many questions, but he didn''t think the desk sergeant could answer them. Before long they were on the highway going southbound. The occasional military truck or convoy passed on their way north, but other than that the desert highway was pretty empty.Just tumbleweeds and the occasional bird or cactus, not even small animals wanted to be out at this time of morning.


    Soon they turned off the road, since the suspensions in military vehicles were non-existent, the ride over the rough terrain was pretty uncomfortable, but Thomas could handle it, he''d been through much worse. Recruit Brooks, the most intimidating one, was looking pale and probably about to throw up. Hardy on the other hand, looked like he was having the time of his life, he was grinning ear to ear at Brook''s misfortune. Thomas could tell there was some sort of rivalry between the two, it was clear from the moment they met earlier this morning to now. Whether it will affect the squad was something he couldn''t determine yet, only time will tell.


    After a couple hours of nonstop driving, they were starting to slow down, it was past noon and in the distance a large set of buildings were appearing. Soon enough the drove right up to a checkpoint with three US soldiers, their rank insignia identified them as First Sergeants. Thomas looked around, it felt like your standard military checkpoint and even looked like it. There was a booth with the guard on duty, probably gate controls as well. Two sandbags piles with mounted MG and accompanying guards on either side of the gate. Standard set-up, yet what was with all the secrecy? It was in the middle of practically nowhere.


    The guard from the booth stepped forward to the desk sergeant. "State your business and provide your pass please," stated the guard.


    "Staff Sergeant O''Connor here to escort one Private Thomas Conlin and squad to Major General Hughes." Staff Sergeant O''Connor handed over his papers as he was saying all this.


    "Okay, everything checks out Staff Sergeant, proceed." The guard lifted his hand to his ear as if he was trying to hear something and then waved his hand out past the gate. The gate then lifted on its own, which greatly confused Thomas, everything felt so familiar and yet alien at the same time.There were words for everything he just saw, but the more he tried to reach for those words, the more difficult and faint it became. He gave up trying, he''ll probably know everything soon enough.


    They drove past the checkpoint, which closed behind them, the guards resuming their positions. Ahead of them were a lot of steel buildings, steel and concrete, probably enough to build two Carrier-class battleships. They soon stopped at another checkpoint, the guards here were wielding rifles he had never seen before, they were unfamiliar. They looked like machine guns, but they were smaller, they were also matte black in color. Black ops teams maybe? He had heard rumors before he joined the military that such teams existed, elite teams trained in special tactics for high risk high reward missions behind enemy lines. What were they doing here?


    The guards at this checkpoint asked them to step out of the vehicle before doing a thorough pat down on everyone and checking the car itself, probably for listening devices. After presenting his papers once again, only Thomas and O''Connor were lead past the checkpoint, the rest of the squad was directed to a nearby barracks where they were to stand by and await further orders.


    After passing this checkpoint, Thomas and the desk sergeant were both escorted to a nearby building. No matter where he looked he felt things weren''t right, for instance, all the vehicles here looked like tanks, but they had six wheels to a side instead of treads, and a really small gun barrel. Thing probably couldn''t even dent a tank, but it looked well armored. This place looked more like one of those black ops R&D sites he heard rumors of, which would probably fit the bill, there were black ops soldiers nearby and strange vehicles, automatic gates, and even the floor looked like concrete, but it was smooth, not rough.


    They came to a large building made much like the rest, concrete and steel, no windows. D-WING was written on the building in large print block letters. After walking inside, Thomas felt the ambient temperature drop by at least thirty degrees. Felt more like a place to stash dead bodies rather than a secure black ops building in the middle of nowhere. After walking down a few corridors and going up some stairs, Thomas soon found himself in front of an unmarked door. No nameplate, nothing, just a weird door made of steel. He opened it and walked in. The room was wide, but sparse. There was only a table and two chairs, one of which was occupied.


    "Come in and sit down private, I won''t bite." The man in front of him had spoken, he was in his late fifties with a scar over one eye and his hair was trimmed to military standards, grey with bits of black in it. On his shoulders was the standard rank insignia of a Major General and numerous medals and ribbons decorated his right chest, he could see from one of them it was from the Battle of Versailles. Thomas walked forward and pulled out the chair, sitting at the table across from Major General Hughes.


    "Normally we''d have done this a different way, but we have early bird intelligence suggesting the Japanese plan on attacking us sometime around Christmas." The Major General sighed, "Oh, right. I''m Major General Hughes, and anything that gets said or talked about in this room, stays in this room. We''re not allowed to kill you for committing treason, but, we sure can find a deep dark miserable hole to put you in for the rest of your life." That one statement alone gave Thomas the chills, he was pretty sure they''d do it or that they had one prepared already.


    "Now on to business!" The Major General rubbed his hands together, "you''re here for one specific reason Thomas." The Major General looked at him pointedly, "Operation Kingmaker."


    That gave Thomas even bigger chills. Now he knew why everything at Camp Young happened the way it did. Someone found out that he came from the future, somehow. They were going to pick him apart for study, probably here in this lab, no one would ever hear from him again. His eyes darted around, automatically looking for an escape route, there was only one. The door behind him. Before he could even try to leave his seat, the Major General spoke again, "Relax, no one here is going to dissect you. Also, no I can''t read minds, but there is one thing I can do." He leaned in smiling, "I can very well tell you all about the future you come from Conlin."

 15 Operation Kingmaker 2

    Thomas had many questions for Major General Hughes, and in return the Major General had many answers. However, most of those answers just left Thomas with more questions. It was in this way that Thomas and Major General Hughes got to know each other over the next few days. At the end of each day, Thomas would be escorted out of the room and to another building which served as sort of an officer''s quarters, he had never seen anything more fancy in any of his experiences. Of course going back to when Thomas and Hughes were conversing, the first thing they did was show him a journal he had kept as a boy.


    "Thomas, do you recognize this journal?" Hughes held up a thick leather-bound book, it looked old and weathered, but well kept. He had a soldier bring it to them from the vault it was kept in, it was of course a valuable tool for them. They had gleaned many insights into how to build more advanced weaponry and some technological surveillance prototypes. Such as the ones used on the training course yesterday when they went through the survival course. The loudspeakers up on the poles were prototypes developed from the contents within the journal.


    Thomas examined the journal and found it to be very familiar, but he couldn''t place where he knew it from. So in the end, after a few minutes he just shook his head.


    "This is yours," Hughes said. "Well to be precise, its yours and one other persons." He leaned closer. "Thomas how well do you know about the circumstances surrounding your death and well let''s just say for lack of terms, rebirth?"


    "The details are fuzzy sir, only thing I can recall is that I died on the beach in Normandy." Thomas went all in and told the truth, after all, if they already knew about that, what else didn''t they know about? "Sir, I have a question about this, about me. What happened to me or rather what is happening to me?" As far as Thomas knew, these things were not natural, he should have died that day and he didn''t. The other thing was that no matter how much he tried to remember about his past in this life, he couldn''t recall anything. His life here was a blank slate, he only knew how to be a soldier, as if that was his calling here.


    "Well I''ll answer since you asked, would have had to tell you anyways," the Major General paused for a second before he turned to look at one of the blank walls and shouted, "turn that thing off, keep this...off the record." Thomas heard a loud click within the somewhat empty room. It seems there were new pieces of technology in play here.


    "All right Thomas, let''s have out with it, you ask and I''ll answer, I have most of the answers anyhow and have to fill in the blanks for my report." Hughes said. "As for your question in particular, what do you know about Operation Kingmaker?" Hughes answered his question with another question.


    "Nothing at all sir, not even a shot in the dark." Thomas replied.


    "All right then, well let''s start with your first question, let''s talk about what happened to you." The Major General flicked open the leather journal and after flipping a few dozen pages he stopped at one particular. "This thing has most of the answers, we had a hell of a time finding this. Even your parents didn''t know about it, wait I almost forgot. You don''t know anything about you do you? Of course not, can''t even remember your own parents. Your life is tragic private, very tragic and I wouldn''t wish it on anyone else." Hughes shook his head, obviously saddened when he thinks about it. "So, let me say this first. You were never intended to be in this time line, or should I say, this reality."


    "Excuse me sir, what do you mean by that?" Thomas was confused, there was just too much information, he didn''t have time to process any of this. Didn''t boot camp just start? Were they not three days in already?


    The Major General chuckled. "You aren''t supposed to exist here, the very nature of you being here has already changed history from the moment you were born in this world. Tell me, how long do you think you''ve been at boot camp?" It was a statement, not a question. Thomas answered it anyways.


    "Three days sir? Boot camp has just started hasn''t it?" Thomas was certain that his answer was wrong, but he answered it anyways if only to get the necessary rebuttal.


    "Try two months, private, well actually it''s not even private anymore is it?" Major General Hughes sigh again, with a thoughtful expression on his face he pulled out a small box from within his uniform and set it in front of Thomas. Thomas opened it, another two sets of chevrons, this would propel him into sergeant, but what has he done to get sergeant before leaving boot camp?


    "I thought you might be confused, but let me bring you up to speed. There WAS a Thomas Conlin here in this reality, but when you died and the german experiment which took place in your reality failed, it brought you and one more soul to this here reality, and poor recruit Conlin, the original Conlin, was booted from his body. No doubt his soul was destroyed and replaced by both of yours. As for the other soul, it was a man by the name of Thomas Kincade, he was a spy for the Americans during what he detailed as the Cold War in this journal." The Major General tapped on the leather journal to emphasize his point.


    "We won''t get into that, it''s pointless for you to even know of it. Hell, even with our analysts and our scientists, we''ve only been able to reverse engineer and understand not even a hundredth of everything he''s detailed. There''s more than just the things you''ve seen outside, or even seen in here. These are all prototypes made with his information. He meticulously detailed how to craft some of these, but some of the materials we lack or just don''t understand yet. I''d tell you more, but some of this information is classified, need to know only."


    "Sir, to get this straight, I want to clarify. I''m from another reality altogether, I don''t exist here, and I exist basically in a dead man''s body with another dead soul?" Thomas was tragically disheartened, he thought it was a second chance at life, but he got much more than he bargained for. In fact, he could be absolutely certain that if there was a second life, he would never get to go to it in this life. This life wasn''t his and never was meant to be, he basically brute forced his way in, even if unintentionally.


    "Yes, that''s correct. As for your parents in this reality. Well they think you''re dead. Your entry had such reality-altering aftereffects. Our scientists are working around the clock to figure out what''s going to happen to you, will you fade out when you hit the point in time where you died, or is there something more for you? We just don''t know. Now, here''s what brings me to the original purpose of why you''re here. To decide what to do with you." The Major General paused, "it doesn''t look pretty, half the people want to turn you into a lab rat to find out how you tick, others want you for your knowledge, as for me? I''m in the camp with your best interests at heart, and that is using you to your full potential in this war. What is it that you want to do with this life Thomas?"


    "Well sir I..." Thomas thought about his original intentions, to save lives and prevent the deaths of many of the allies. Was that even feasible anymore? With all of this technology was he even needed? No, he was sure that every soldier was needed. Like Hughes had said, most of this is prototype technology. It would require at least a few more years of field testing. He clenched his hands, one life huh? Better make it count.


    "Sir, I originally wanted to save the lives of as many allies as possible, but now...now with what you''ve told me, I want to take the fight to the germans sir!" Thomas stood up and saluted proudly. No matter what Thomas is, time-traveler, interloper, murderer...he was always one thing first and foremost. An American.


    "Good answer, sit down, we have a lot to talk about and not a lot of time to do it. We have many operations outlined, we''ll give you the pick of the litter." Hughes offered and gestured at him.


    "Sir, tell me about Operation Kingmaker!"

 16 Operation Kingmaker 3

    Major General Hughes took a folder off from a pile on the side and slid it in front of Thomas. OPERATION KINGMAKER was stamped in red on the front of it, along with the words HIGHEST PRIORITY/CLASSIFICATION ALPHA ROMEO/EYES ONLY/DESTROY AFTER USE. Hughes looked at Thomas for only the briefest of moments before he warned him of the consequences of opening the file.


    "If you open this file, there is no going back Thomas, any other file and we would watch you for awhile, but this one. This file is too important to be casually looked at. Can''t risk the details getting out one way or another. Damn I wish I could smoke in here." The Major General was fumbling with the breast pocket on his uniform before he sighed and stopped. Thomas had a decision to make, he could take and open this file, going deeper down the rabbit hole, or he could look at some of the other files.


    Why would I look at the other files though, Thomas was thinking. Kingmaker related directly to him, he might be able to learn more about himself through it, or maybe he might even be able to ascend to a higher rank where he could ask those questions. There was no question about it, Operation Kingmaker was his best bet to accomplish most of, if not all of his goals.


    "Allow me to look at the Operation Kingmaker folder," Thomas pulled the folder over and opened it up. It was very ambitious, that was the first thing Thomas noted, the second thing Thomas noted and one which surprised him a little bit, was the fact that the operation revolved around getting his soul and the other soul to fuse, thereby creating a new existence and hopefully cementing his position in this reality. If they could do that, maybe nothing would happen on June fourth in a few years.


    The contents of the file seemed really complex, but they were broken down into a few main ideas and some recommendations. First and foremost, the training and formation of an elite company designed to go behind enemy lines and cause havoc by: Assassinating enemy leadership, disrupting supply lines, cutting of communications, and other miscellaneous but important tasks. Basically extreme risk high reward operations. Second, periodic testing on him using prototype and theoretical technology to try to assimilate and combine both souls in his body, with the outcome being Thomas on top of course. Thomas wouldn''t have it any other way and he was sure, that it would be preferable to have a soldier like him versus an American spy from the future who has many tricks up his sleeves and probably knows more about the technology in the journal than he does.


    After all, it may take time for them to decode the journal, but it also would be the safest bet as Thomas would also be able to decode the journal once his soul takes over the body completely. The third benefit to all of this is that Thomas will personally lead a squad of people hand-picked from a set of dossiers of the most highly skilled people in the world, as long as they have allegiance to America of course. There were a few minor benefits of little note, they benefited both sides, but overall they weren''t very useful. He did see something interesting of note.


    "Major General Hughes sir, what is Chemical Course HB-105?" Thomas was curious, would this turn him into some kind of super soldier? He wondered what it''d be like to be a superhero. With this turn him into Captain America, make him more like Captain Marvel? They were popular comic book superheros, Captain America was always his favorite. Major General Hughes chuckled, he could tell what Thomas was thinking.


    "No sergeant, it''s not what you think. Chemical Course HB-105 is a series of steroids and hormonal drug treatments designed to give your body a boost in muscle mass and density, more so than Captain America, but most definitely much less. It''s designed to have little to no side effects if successful, but the risk is high, very high. Mortality rates are shown to be at seventy seven percent. Well there is one thing that it will do that not even Captain America or Wonder Woman or any of those comic book heroes have. Superhuman reflexes. Your reflexes will be greater than a cat, your body will have sufficient muscles to keep up. It won''t make you a superhero, but in high adrenaline situations, the world may very well come to a full stop for you."


    "What about the hand-picked dossiers? Where are those?" Thomas asked.


    "Right here in this stack, I''ll pull them out for you, but only because you no longer have a choice in any of this. You made your choice when you asked for the Operation Kingmaker file. Oh and just so you know, only you will go through CC HB-105, your hand-picked squad will not. So you''ll have to remember that in the field. " The Major General fished around in the stack and pulled out a thick set of files, individually there were about thirty, but together they looked like a hundred or more, it was quite impressive.


    "Right, so there are thirty three dossiers here, but you can only pick twelves. Once you''ve made your selection, toss away the other envelopes, preferably away from the table. Maybe at the door. Or that wall over there." The General Major hooked his thumb over at the wall that he had shouted at earlier. He must really have a beef with those men in there or something. A sudden knock from the wall came in a flurry of sequences.


    "Yeah I bet you do! How about we see who has a job at the end of all this huh?!" The Major General shouted at the wall. The flurry of knocking went silent almost immediately. Whoever was in there, he could only assume it was a room, must have been terrified of Hughes threats.


    "This whole project is headed by me and General Eisenhower, just one word and I could probably have him cleaning latrines for the rest of his career." Major General Hughes winked at Thomas. Now Thomas understood why everyone deferred to the major general, he was the direct supervisor of the whole project and only reported to Eisenhower. How was a big project like this kept under wraps? Surely a senate hearing committee had to hear about this proposal so they could secure the funds for it? Politics is a giant mess for sure, Thomas strives not to be political ever, not even in his previous life was he political.


    "Don''t worry about the funding, as soon as we showed the committee some of the technology we made with the journal they shut up immediately. Officially the project was denied and all related news and information deleted and wiped from existence. Unofficially we are operating out of the classified funds that the government has lying around. Many other projects got cancelled this year in favor of this one. All made possible by you and Kincade." The Major General was all big smiles, he got off the chair and walked over to the one wall. He knocked on it and the most important sentence in the history of mankind came out of his mouth.


    "Operation Kingmaker is a go."

 17 The Dossier Selection 1

    Thomas thumbed through the dossiers, thirty-three is a lot of information to go through. When it boils down to it though, he just needs to pick people whose skills complement his own and have great team synergy. The major general had already left him in there and gone to check other things, said he''d be back in a half day to check on him. Thomas picked up the nearest one and thumbed through it. It was a pretty thick file, actually, all of them were pretty thick, to be honest. They didn''t have any computers, after all, Alan Turing wouldn''t develop the first one until the middle of the war. They might have one earlier than that though if Kincade''s journal actually listed one.


    The file Thomas had picked was on a Russian ex-national, some guy named Anton Nikolov. He was a man of few words according to the dossier, but he got the job done. His specialties are demolitions, bomb-making, and infiltration. Those were some pretty good qualifications. His file says he took part in a covert action against Finnish forces recently, the file doesn''t specify the operation or what happened, but it does mention that he obtained the Order of the Red Star and the Medal for Courage. He was also injured as a result of the operation and became blinded in his left eye. Thomas took the file, he will have need of such a man, he was sure.


    The next file Thomas picked up was on a woman named Francine Freau. She was well versed in infiltration and spying, but that''s about it. The only bonus that could be said is that she has many underground contacts among the criminal community as well as the black market. Other than that, she was practically useless, Thomas tossed away her file into some corner of the room that will doubtlessly be forgotten just like so many other files and papers. If it was just Contacts, Thomas could doubtless make some of those on his own, though he might very well come across this Francine later.


    The next file was just as useless with no redeeming qualities. Were they testing his ability to find worthy people out of a pile of junk or something? He picked up the next file, oh, this looks promising. The file was on a man named Peter Longhouse, aside from the joke name, which even Thomas had to admit was in bad taste, this file was excellent. He had several commendations from actions in World War One, though he was getting on a bit in age at thirty-six years of age, he had multiple commendations. First, there was the standard World War One Victory Medal for participating. Second, he had the Distinguished Service Cross for acts of valor when charging enemy fortifications at Versailles. Lastly, two silver stars and a bronze heart for courageous actions in saving an entire platoon from a machine gun emplacement when he charged into the trenches, though he was wounded in the process. He made a full recovery in time for the end of the war.


    Thomas also liked his specializations. He was specialized in the operation of heavy and mechanical weapons, most probably artillery Thomas assumed. He was a skilled coordinator, which meant that he could accurately call for artillery strikes with a hundredth of a percent error margin. He was also well versed in flanking tactics and facing against a numerically superior force, all of which would come in handy. Thomas set Peter''s dossier on top of Anton''s, he just imagined the sort of havoc the two could cause, side by side.


    This process went on for about an hour. He tossed more files away than he had taken, at this point he was four for ten. Not a very good start to all this, but he had to admit, the people he selected were well suited for what he had in mind, and most likely what command had in mind as well.


    With a quick sigh, he prepared himself for the next folder. Just randomly grabbing one within the pile he looked at it and realized he had struck dossier gold. If this wasn''t the Cr¨¨me de la Cr¨¨me, he didn''t know what was. The file was on a woman named Elaine Schubert. She was probably the best medical candidate by far and also already a part of Operation Kingmaker. She had surgical skills, medical skills, the whole nine yards. Her greatest feat was a two-hour heart transplant, fastest in the world by four hours. With skills like that, why wouldn''t he want her on his team? Thomas immediately set aside her dossier with Anton and the others. That makes five for eleven, this was going to be a long day. Thomas picked up the next folder and repeated the process.

 18 Dossier Selection 2

    Thomas sighed after looking through five more dossiers he closed his eyes and rubbed his temple. Sixteen dossiers and he had only picked enough for a full squad plus him. Whoever said being in charge was easy lied through their teeth. He didn''t know if this was some test or if he really only had thirty-three people to choose from. He picked up the next file, he wasn''t even hopeful in the slightest that it might be good. He opened it and scanned through it.


    Interestingly enough, the person the file mentions has several unique skillsets that could come in handy in certain situations. Yet sadly, Thomas had no use for someone who was only unique in that sense. He was looking for true all-rounders and skill sets. Someone the could bring on any mission and he would have a use for them. Three more files, three more useless people, where did they find these people? He didn''t have a need for someone skilled in jungle warfare or astrology for that matter.


    Two files later and he had finally come across some pretty good. His name was Enrique Vasquez. He grew up in the poor slums of Chicago to a family of ten it seems, fell in with some bad people and was offered jail or the military. He took military and he really did take a liking to it. Thanks to his previous gang-related activities he was proficient at firearms, hand to hand combat, and he had his own specialties as well. He could hotwire any car, he could break most locks in under a minute, he was also good at modifying melee weapons to be deadlier. This was someone he could use. He took that dossier and tossed it with the other seven that he had, that made eight. Still seven short of a platoon.


    He picked two more people from the rest of the dossiers, the two he had picked were commando specialists. One was a bonafide sniper and the other was a bomb defuser, she had been trained to defuse any sort of bomb as a prototype initiative. The initiative failed but she didn''t. He rubbed his eyes, he was pretty tired, he didn''t think picking people for an outfit could be this exhausting. He laid his head down for a few minutes and the door opened before he could take a nap. Major General Hughes walked in, Thomas stood straight immediately and saluted.


    "Sit down, Thomas," Hughes said. "We''ve got a lot to cover, aside from the fact that you''ve only picked nine people, which I will admit, isn''t a big deal. We have more dossiers, this was just the first batch." They both sat down at the table facing one another with the dossiers scattered across the table in a messy heap.


    "Let''s get down to business, we have a few things to cover before the end of the night. First, you''ll be leading a Company. So you''re going to need this." Hughes pulled out a box with Captain''s bars in it. He handed it over to Thomas, who was a little surprised. "Second, the dossiers we gave to you today were full of a mix of average and above and beyond personnel. We wanted to test your ability to discern between useful and non-essential people. In this regard, you haven''t let us down and were probably thinking it was a test all along right?" Hughes cracked a smile at him, the major general seemed to think highly of Thomas.


    "Now we come to the last issue of the day, your security clearance." Hughes sighed for a moment before he continued on. "It''s going to take me a good minute, but in a few days you will receive security clearance level Yankee White, it will allow you to travel most places in the facility unhindered. For now, though, you''ll have to rely on these two gentlemen for an escort," Hughes gestured to the two sergeants at the door standing guard.


    "With that, business for the day is concluded and we should all get some sleep. I''m looking forward to seeing who you pick tomorrow." Hughes clapped and the two guards at the door saluted before motioning to Thomas to follow them. They took him to a room at the end of the facility, it was nicely decorated and was for officer''s use. A simple bed was in one corner of the room with a desk and chair across from it, the floor was carpeted and there was a brand new officer''s uniform on the bed. Thomas set the uniform on the back of the chair before laying down on the bed. It was comfortable like a bed of soft clouds, he could literally sink forever in this bed and be okay with it. It wasn''t long before he fell asleep, drifting off into what would become a nightmare for everyone involved.

 19 Kincade the Nightmare

    Thomas felt a warm gritty wind blowing across his body, he slowly opened his eyes. The harsh desert sun beat upon his brow, the taste of sand was gritty and hard. Unpleasant. Wait, how did he get here? He pinched himself, no this was real, as far as he knew. He was lying on a cot under some camouflage netting. He was in a town, the buildings were made of sand and stone. Sandstone? He sat up and looked around, the buildings were squat and short, barely ten feet tall, they were ugly but functional. He knew this place, but there was no one here? Slowly people came into focus round him, soldiers chatting up locals, jeeps driving here and there.


    "Good morning private, how are you feeling today? Took quite the blow to the head yesterday, boy that was something to see." Thomas whipped his head around, there was a grizzled medic attending to the wounded, he had the white armband with the red cross on it. His insignia identified him as a Master Sergeant. He knew the man, Master Sergeant Callum, one of the finest medics he ever met. However, if Callum was here, then that meant he was in El Alamein. He remembered this fight, it was fierce and many of the soldiers here wouldn''t live to see another day.


    "Yes doc, I got surprised by that german scout, I guess he thought I was dead." Thomas rubbed his head as if it still pained him, even if this was a dream he still had to make it seem like he was a part of it.


    "Well if you feel fine go ahead and return to your unit, you might have a slight concussion, but there''s no lasting damage. Go on, get, I''ve got other patients to attend to." The doctor muttered under his breath as he turned to unwrap some bandages off a man''s leg, or rather what was left of it. The rest of it was probably out there on the battlefield somewhere. Thomas left before all of the bandages came off. He knew where his unit was stationed, it was a house in the northeast quadrant, not too far from where the fighting broke out. In just a few hours the German Wehrmacht will arrive across the sands and there will be a fierce fight for this town.


    He jogged across the town, it took about fifteen minutes and then he reached the building with his unit in it. He assumed that if he wanted to wake up, he would have to complete this...memory? He reached the door and he walked in from the bright blinding light to the cool cavernous darkness that is the house they were using.


    "Hey Tommy! Welcome back!" As his eyes adjusted to the light, he was greeted by someone unfamiliar to him. Sitting in a chair at the center of the room surround by broken chairs, tables, and scattered papers, was a man who looked to be in his early thirties. He was clean shaven with short, shaggy hair. He had a wiry build and looked like he could handle his own, or at least that was the sort of confidence he oozed. He looked around, he saw his old unit lying this way and that at different angles and places, they were all dead. Slaughtered to a man, but there was no blood.


    "Oh right, you haven''t met me before. I''m Kincade, the other guy. Normally we don''t get to see each other, but I made a special exception. See, you get the body, but I get the dreams. Every time you sleep I''m always there, it''s amazing you haven''t snapped and killed everyone, oh wait...oops." Kincade waved his hand and El Alamein disappeared, instead it was the hallway outside his quarters, the two guards were brutally murdered, blood splashed across the walls, they didn''t stand a chance. He looked at his hands, they were covered in blood, not his own though, the guards? No, he wouldn''t kill them.


    Kincade walked out from the room, "like what you did to them? This isn''t a dream anymore, you''re awake, or are you?" Kincade waved his hand again and the scenery changed back to El Alamein, artillery shells were blowing up buildings, sending sandstone everywhere. Civilians were getting gunned down in cold blood, bullets exploding through their bodies creating a flower bloom like blood explosion. American soldiers were fighting back, their guns roaring with all the fury of thunder, British troops were also running around like crazy.


    "Try to survive this Thomas, have fun hunting, the only way to survive is to kill." Kincade laughed and walked off, disappearing in front of Thomas. If Thomas wanted to survive, it was like Kincade said, the only way was to fight. He picked up the nearest gun to him, a British Sten Mk I sub-machine gun. Not as good as the Mk II, but it was usable. He checked the magazine, twelve bullets. He needed more, he rummaged around the area and came up with two full magazines and a half empty magazine. He thumbed the release on the magazine, it dropped and he quickly loaded the twelve bullets into the half magazine, twenty nine bullets, one short of a full mag. He quickly rammed it home and cocked the chamber, the sub-machine gun was ready to go.


    No sooner had he loaded the gun was when a german squad ran around the corner, American they shouted and started opening fire. Thomas quickly jumped behind a corner as bullets whizzed by, sometimes striking the corner of the building and sending sandstone into his eyes, momentarily blinding and choking him. This was not good cover, he stuck his head around and noted their positions. Five men, each in the open slowly advancing to his position, in V-formation. Thomas quickly spun out of cover and unloaded his gun. Fifteen bullets later he had hosed down the squad with about sixty seven percent accuracy. One of the Germans took a bullet to the chin, the force destroying his brain and sending his jawbone flying in an explosion of blood and gore. Another two Germans took a shot to the chest and gut respectively, blood spurting from the chest wounds after their hearts got punctured. Of the last two Germans one got off lightly with a bullet directly to the forehead, the other got their Femoral artery clipped and they dropped to the ground quickly bleeding out in a lot of pain.


    Thomas noted his magazine, fourteen bullets left. He ran across the town, he needed to group up with the retreat, he knew the town was lost, this time. He ran across a quarter of town before he stumbled into a German Panzer III. Shit! The Panzer Mk III noticed Thomas and its gun barrel rotated to track. Thomas quickly dove behind a house as the roar of the cannon went off. Half the house disappeared in an explosion of dirt and stone, at least the resulting cloud of dust obscured the tank''s line of sight enough for Thomas to run to the cover of the next house. He kept running from house to house as the Panzer kept blowing up houses, and sometimes the houses had civilians, in which case the house would also explode with a stream of red going everywhere.


    Suddenly the Panzer Mk III, exploded it a fiery blast of metal and parts, out between two house rumbled an American M3 Lee light-medium tank. It''s gun had more power than the Panzer Mk III and could take a couple hits as well. Thomas kept running, gunning down Germans while keeping any eye on the situation. After another twenty minutes of dodging and firing, Thomas was down to his last magazine. He also had reached the evac point for the town, and grouped up with the remainder of the British-American coalition. He was assigned to a truck, and he climbed on with a few other soldiers. He leaned back and closed his eyes, time to head back to the real world.

 20 Bound by Dreams

    Thomas awoke to the sound of klaxon sirens, red flashing lights, and yelling people. He was groggy, his body was numb as if he had been shocked, and it hurt everywhere, he tried to move his fingers, no use. Legs, arms? No use there either, he just couldn''t move. He was vaguely aware of the sound of many people running through the hall. He may be awake, but the numbing haze was spreading through his body and mind, he though he could hear the major general, he couldn''t tell anymore, his hearing was failing, he was falling into an endless black. He knew this feeling, he was dying, could they save him though? Is this the end of his journey? Thomas couldn''t let it end this way, but he couldn''t move anything.


    "WHERE IS THE MEDIC?"


    "GET THAT STRETCHER OVER HERE!"


    "I AM NOT GOING TO LOSE HIM!"


    Thomas lolled from to and fro, he tried to smile, he could vaguely feel hands lifting him up. He was put on something cold and hard. A gurney? Stretcher? Medical table? Time was endless, how did he end up like this? Wasn''t he dreaming? How did a dream turn so real? Things didn''t make sense. There was more shouting, he was pretty sure it was Major General Hughes.


    "YOU, YOU, YOU, FIND OUT WHAT HAPPENED, I WANT THIS FACILITY LOCKED DOWN!"


    "RADIOMEN GET ON THE HORN, BASE LEVEL ALERT FIVE, NO ONE IN AND NO ONE OUT"


    More lights, flashing across his blackened vision, turning his black into a dull red, it almost felt like seeing the inside of a womb, where all is darkness cloaked in a comforting surge of red. It almost brought a smile to his lips if he could smile, he mumbled and groaned though. Hands ripped his bloody and torn shirt off, medicine was being applied, the cold touch bringing a shocking electric sizzle to his body, he could feel it. He could feel it and then he could feel nothing. The world faded to black and his arm limply fell to the side of the stretcher.


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    October 8, 1941 X-WING, MEDICAL FACILITY, MOJAVE DESERT, CALIFORNIA


    In a room somewhere in the highly classified facility only known as Area One, two figures watched a team of medical professionals get to work. They had a man lying on the table, his body was riddled with holes and stab wounds, you would think he''s dead, but contrary to popular belief, the prototype EKG says that he''s alive. One of the man standing in front of the glass window was Major General Hughes, the other slightly older man was none other than General Dwight D. Eisenhower. They were having a conversation about what happened twelve hours ago. That''s right, the men and women in the surgical unit have been operating for twelve hours nonstop.


    "It seems that after he entered his room, the guards outside the door reported a lot of shouting, and strangely enough, gunfire." Major General Hughes was puffing on a cigar, his favorite choice of action. "We checked the room and we found insane amounts of sand, a couple of Sten Mk I sub-machine guns, and a turban. It was all very confusing, our scientists are working around the clock to figure out what happened."


    "So, he goes to bed, wakes up, slaughters a ton of guards, and collapses," Eisenhower turns to Hughes, "never mind what happened, Project Kingmaker gets accelerated as soon as he''s recovered, we can''t delay anymore, it''s happening too soon."


    "Sir?" Hughes was confused, it turns out the general had more information than him?


    "Time-phasing Hughes, we always knew it was a possibility, but the brass dismissed it. For us it seems he goes to sleep, but for him, it''s a battle with Kincade. We''ve kept it under wraps for a long time. We''ve known about this since he was a child. It goes deeper than you know Hughes." Eisenhower paused and sighed. He shook his head before continuing. "Know one knew anything until reality had already been altered. The journal you have is but a portion, yes it contains a bunch of technological miracles and advancements, but that''s just what we gave you. There is a whole other journal, the one that belongs to the real Thomas Conlin. In it he details his battles with Kincade since childhood, he managed to force him back when he turned twelve. Every time they clash, the world around them erupts in blood and violence, we''ve had to hide quite a few tragedies."


    Hughes was shocked, he didn''t know what to say. He had only ever thought there was just one journal. He looked at the man on the operating tables as he furrowed his brows, this was becoming more complicated than he bargained for. Still, there was much to be done and only the important questions could be asked.


    "How long does he have sir, before this spirals out of control?"Hughes asked .


    "A few months maybe, it can''t really be helped. Every night we need to use the AK-213 serum on him before he goes to bed, it will help mitigate the dreams for awhile but not forever." Eisenhower turned to Hughes and looked him square in the eye. "You can''t fail on this Frank. There''s too much at stake. I''m giving you four weeks to find a solution, or accelerate the current project. If you fail, even God can''t help us."


    Eisenhower turned around and walked towards the door behind them, he exited the room, an escort of ten guards went with him. Hughes turned back to the glass, the surgeons had just finished taking the last bullet out of Thomas, they closed up his wounds and started binding him with bandages. There were a total of thirty five empty blood bags strewn across the floor, not a single drop of blood remained in them. He tapped on the glass and motioned for the head surgeon. The surgeon then walked through the door to surgery and appeared in front of Hughes after coming through another door.


    "I want hourly updates on the situation, anything goes wrong and we all fry. Notify me as soon as he is awake." Hughes grabbed a report off the table in front of him before walking through the same doors Eisenhower exited from. The report was labelled TIME-PHASING, INCIDENT THREE HUNDRED TWENTY TWO, REPORT A. CLASSIFIED, EYES ONLY.

 21 Time-Phase Report; Thomas Awakes

    Major General Hughes finally looked at the report that Eisenhower left for him; it did not paint a pretty picture. First, the report states that Conlin has been having these fights since he was four. It appears that''s when Kincade first appeared, a young Thomas was almost no match. The entire neighborhood got destroyed, there were thirty-seven casualties. Survivors reported a German army battling in the streets, there were some burnt out tank wrecks and a lot of military bodies. When clean up crews were sent in, there was nothing there, all of the wreckage and corpses had literally disappeared overnight.


    The report gets worse, in Thomas''s second year of middle school, Kincade attacked without warning when Thomas fell asleep in history class during a WWII lecture. The entire school was nothing but a smoldering wreck by the time rescue crews arrived. Thomas had won his battle, but a great cost. He was then transferred to a special military school at the age of sixteen. At eighteen he was inducted into the military and through extreme conditions, his memory was altered, his past forgotten. In hindsight, this was a pretty bad plan because the next incident took place in his first month of boot camp.


    Camp Young was razed to the ground, as far as Thomas knows, he was only three days in when we brought him here. Major General Hughes was told to tell him that boot camp had long been over, but the truth is far worse than that. It''s actually December and Thomas has been here at this classified facility for five months since the incident at Camp Young. Officially in the report, Camp Young was decommissioned as a failure. Unofficially, all occupants had been slain by Thomas and Kincade during an intense field op where Thomas was rendered unconscious. That was just some of the report, the rest of it is just too horrific for Hughes to keep reading.


    Hughes sighed and put the report down. At least this time, the damage was contained. Only fifteen souls lost and two hundred thousand dollars of damage. The two guards outside Thomas''s door had been brutally killed and this was witnessed by three other guards who got off with serious injuries. Actually, that''s where this report came from, the three guards who had seen Thomas initially. All three were crippled for life now, missing either an arm or a leg or both. There wasn''t a single whole piece to send to the families of the two guards, he can only say they died in a training accident or field exercise by an explosion. Hughs pulled out some paperwork and began filling out forms, it was going to be a long night.


    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Thomas could feel again, though his world remained shrouded in darkness. He could move his fingers a little bit, he wasn''t dead, but he was something, somewhere. His hearing came into focus, he heard the beeping of a machine, slow and steady. Where was he? He felt someone lift his harm and gently touch his wrist, feeling his pulse? He tried to move his hand again, success! His hand twitched, the person dropped his arm and ran to the door shouting for the doctor. Ah, he was in a medical facility, that explains a lot.


    "Doctor! Doctor! He''s conscious again!" The voice was pleasantly female, like the singing of a lark, it was music to his ears. Probably the best thing to wake up to in his opinion. His eyes opened a hair after a minute of trying, the world was a weird kaleidoscope, how did that happen? The voice came back. "No, don''t open your eyes, they''re not ready yet!" A smooth hand covered his eyes, it was the purest softest white he''d ever seen in his life or was until she covered his eyes and everything faded to black again. He was thirsty, he needed water, his throat was dry, he tried to speak.


    "Water," it came out a dry raspy croak as if someone took sandpaper and rubbed it together to produce sound. Barely audible, but in this almost noise free environment that was all he needed for the nurse to hear him. He could hear her hustling and bustling in the room, the sound of it, made it seem the room was quite large in size. She returned and he sat him up gently as she tipped a glass filled with water, it was like a rainfall during a drought or an oasis in the desert of his parched throat.


    He tried to remember what happened, but all he came up with was a blank. He remembered going to lay down and after he closed his eyes, everything was a blank. He struggled to sit up, but the nurse gently pushed him back down.


    "You can''t sit up yet, your wounds are still closing," the nurse explained. Wounds...he had wounds? Where did he get the wounds from? Did he have another fight with Kincade? Speaking of Kincade his hands clenched tightly and his lacerations opened up, blood oozing from the wounds and dripping on the floor.


    "You need to calm down Thomas, please calm down," the nurse administered first aid, she bound his wounds again, the white cloth quickly soaked red with blood, the speed at which it did so was astonishing. The nurse worked quickly, she bound the hand again and put pressure on it to try to staunch the bleeding. She felt pity for this soldier, this man, she knew a little bit about his circumstances because the doctor warned the whole team of what might happen if they didn''t follow the unique procedures for this man. His name was Thomas she learned, and she felt pity because no man deserved this fate. It was certainly worse than death.


    Thomas knew what the nurse was thinking, how could he not? Were the positions swapped, he too would feel pity and maybe sympathy. He should address the problem before it gets out of hand.


    "Do not feel pity for me, I couldn''t ask for more," Thomas''s voice was still raspy, but now it sounded like leathery sandpaper instead of sandpaper on sandpaper. His voice was also slightly louder.


    "I.." The nurse fought for words, she tried to deny that is what she was doing, but she stopped herself. She couldn''t lie to this man. If it was anyone else...just not this man. This man of two lifetimes. She couldn''t imagine fighting the same war twice over two different lives. She immediately apologized. "I''m sorry, I didn''t mean..."


    "It''s okay, I am proud of what I do, and I love my country." Thomas sighed. If only he could see, and move. He hated this, it was the worst part of being in this lifetime. A small growl of frustration escaped his throat, along with a splash of blood. His throat burned now, it tasted like copper, mixed with iron. A very metallic taste, as blood should taste. The nurse admonished him again, told him to rest, but don''t fall asleep. She will be back in a few minutes to check up on him, she had to file a report.


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Hughes was sitting in his office when a young nurse stepped in. It was the nurse from the operating suite, normally you wouldn''t keep a patient in there, but Thomas''s condition was too serious for him to be moved anywhere else. She was attractive, a young woman in her twenties. She had long black hair down past her shoulders, full lips, a button nose, and wide green eyes. She cut a great hourglass figure, but it must be hard to maintain that image.


    "Sir, Captain Thomas is awake!" The nurse reported, her eyes showed sympathy, but also...determination? No matter, it was none of his concern.


    "Thank you, Elaine. Please continue to watch the Good Captain." Major General Hughes said. "You can go now." After she left, Hughes picked up the rotary phone on his desk and dialed a few numbers.


    "Sir?" A man on the other end of the phone answered.


    "This is Hughes, the Captain is awake. Begin immediately."


    "Yes, sir!" The phone went dead as the soldier hung up. There was work to do, and not much time to do it. This all depended on Thomas. Everything depended on Thomas.

 22 Recovery and Experimental Drugs

    Thomas spent two more days in bed, the whole time they had given him experimental injections to speed up the recovery process. They made his body itch all over as if a thousand ants were crawling in his skin. It did the trick though, unfortunately only a select few could use this drug, otherwise, it would certainly be mass produced. He was told to take it easy, any exaggerated movement could mess up all the work they''ve done to keep his organs from falling to pieces. When it came down to it, he guessed the Americans can be just as inventive as the Germans. None of this would be possible without Kincade of course, but that''s a small price to pay to ensure American comes out of this war ahead.


    On the third day, Thomas was able to get out of bed, although he was restricted in what he could do, he was satisfied to already be on his feet. Another thing that pleased Thomas is that he learned that Elaine is the same Elaine Schubert from the dossier. He had much to thank her for and on top of that, he got to experience her medical skills firsthand. Major General Hughes stopped by to tell him that she spent sixteen hours saving his life in surgery. Also to discuss the next steps in the operation with him.


    They took a short walk around the medical facility, Thomas wasn''t allowed to exit the facility during his recovery in case something breaks down. The experimental pharmaceuticals they were using weren''t perfect, it was just a stopgap method to ensure a faster recovery. It wasn''t perfect though, there were already several mishaps where his body rejected the drug at its full strength. They had to dial down the dosage to around half. Otherwise, he would have made a full recovery within three days, instead of the full week it was going to take.


    "Thomas, we''re going to have to vastly speed up the project, this accident has put many things into motion. Operation Ascension, our back up plan in case something happened to you, has been greatly accelerated." Major General Hughes said. "Not only has it gotten more funding than us, but the Senate Committee is also unsure of whether you''ll survive this ordeal. They''re on the fence, that means we need to speed up as well and show them you''re capable of surviving this and much more."


    They stopped outside the door that leads to Thomas''s medical suite. It wouldn''t be fair to call it a room, it was fully equipped with anything they might need and was much larger than a regular medical room. Major General Hughes finished up with a parting sentence. "Tomorrow we''re going to start the chemicals for the experiment, we''ve brought a British scientist and mathematician in on the project. In exchange for some classified data, Britain was willing to loan him out to us to build something highly sophisticated. Get some rest, I''ll see you tomorrow morning."


    With that, the major general turned sharply on his heel and marched off, it was a weird sort of occurrence to see. Thomas turned his mind to other things. He needed time to process what happened. He should try to see if he could affect anything when he next faces off with Kincade. Maybe there is a way to prevent massacres from becoming reality. Existing between two different times...Thomas rubbed some of his new scars, was rather unpleasant to say in the least. Time to turn in for the night, he grabbed some of that injection he was supposed to take and stabbed himself viciously in the thigh. He soon after drifted off into a dreamless state.


    The next morning he awoke and dressed in his officer''s garb, his newly minted Captain''s bars shined brightly on his collar. He walked outside the door to find ten armed escort guards, they all clutched their rifles fearfully and looked at him as if he were some sort of monster. They heard the tally, fifteen dead guards, the man was just oozing blood everywhere from where those guards shot him. They filled him with countless holes, yet here he was, standing in their midst like some unkillable mythological monster. The lead soldier stepped forward and saluted with a trembling hand.


    "Sergeant Francis and company here to escort you to the lab, sir!" The soldier refused to lock eyes with Thomas, the fear palpable on his face in the form of sweat. Who knows how long these men have been waiting here for him, maybe enough to gossip about what happened to those other guards. Thomas waved his hand, inclined to follow them. He''d rather not say anything in case they mistake him for trying to eat them and pull their triggers. They sure were a jumpy bunch, this experiment should take care of that though.


    After about twenty minutes of walking through the winding corridors and open rooms that make up the medical facility, they arrived on the far side in front of the connecting door to X-wing. It was labeled restricted personnel only, unauthorized persons will be shot on sight. Pretty standard as warnings go. The lead sergeant saluted and pulled out the funniest looking key he had ever seen. It was a serrated knob with a short handle. He put his key into the lock in the center of the door and gave it a half turn right, then three quarter turns left. KACHUNK! The door gave a solid click then started whining as you could hear the gears inside of it moving. The door itself started to slide open slowly, they really took security around here seriously, especially when Thomas saw what was on the other side of the door. No less than four large MG nests crewed by serious looking people and around fifteen guards were in that room, pointed at the door.


    After Thomas was cleared by the security checkpoint, the guards relaxed their stances and started chatting with one another about recent events. They tactfully avoided the incident that Thomas was involved in and started discussing Elaine Schubert and how hot she is. Thomas paid them no heed, men will forever be men, he stepped through into the lab where he was greeted by a lab assistant.


    He ushered him over to a serious looking doctor who obviously had Germanic origins.


    "Hello, Thomas." The doctor greeted him in a thick German accent. "Please, do not be worried, today we are just using chemicals made in the lab here to test how hardy your brain is, so to speak." He gestured to a nearby table, it looked comfy enough with its leather backing, but those restraints were quite worrying.


    "Please, do not be alarmed, those restraints are there merely in case something goes wrong, we will not put them on you." The doctor noted his concern before continuing. "Oh, and I am Doctor Bernard Katz, pleased to meet such an interesting one as you."


    The doctor took him over to the table and had him lay down before taking out a chilled box from the medical cooler in the corner. He opened it before taking out a vial and needle, the needle was empty, but the vial was filled with a liquid of rainbow color, it also had a slightly metallic hue. The doctor looked at him and smiled.


    "This is experimental drug X-BC 257, and today, we are going to inject this stuff into your brain to figure out where Kincade is hiding."

 23 The Effects of X-BC 257

    Thomas lay there as the good doctor Katz explained what the experimental drug X-BC 257 was about. The doctor was pretty enthusiastic about it too. Kept calling it the greatest advancement for science and medicine for generations. Though he did lament about the fact that it would never see the light of day because everything here was classified as a top military secret. Even the President of the United States Theodore Roosevelt, God bless his soul, knew only enough about this initiative to approve it. He was kept in the dark about it as well.


    "This highly experimental chemical will light up your brain using, well nevermind, you wouldn''t understand it anyways even with your two lifetimes!" The German doctor said enthusiastically in his thick German accent. "It will allow us to find the other soul sleeping within your body! Well more specifically, in your brain where I think he slumbers until you sleep in your, well let''s not get into specifics, what could you possibly understand with that pea-sized brain you use for war hmm?"


    The doctor was also fond of insulting the intelligence of anyone he believed to be under his own. Which, unfortunately, included poor Thomas. Thankfully, he still followed rank and protocol so after a moment the dear doctor imparted a few words of apology. Then continued on his tirade about medicine is the greatest and how science will rule the world and crush legends and mythologies underfoot.


    "Gods are nothing but mythologies! Natural phenomena that scare the populace! Bedtime stories for the ignorant masses! Science is the true power! Medicine...the true miracle! Hahahaha!" Doctor Katz gave a great bellyaching laugh as if he said something truly hilarious before turning to face Thomas. "And you my dear friend, are but a cog in the wheel of science and a boot print in the march of progress. To that end, we have this drug here, that will show us the way to the promised land."


    Doctor Katz waved around the precious vial of serum as to emphasize his point, though the serum had other plans in mind it seemed, as it did not share the doctor''s enthusiasm and it slowly rolled inside its encasing. That did not stop the good doctor from approaching Thomas with a glint in his eyes. This doctor was up to no good, one could practically see it if he so much as glanced at you.


    Just as the doctor was about to reach Thomas, a loud cough came from behind him. Doctor Elaine was standing there in her doctor''s lab coat. it looked quite fetching on her, even if it did a good job hiding some of her feminine qualities. She was also a sight for sore eyes such as his. He''d been with this raving doctor for almost an hour, maybe longer. There was no clock around and he was sure that was on purpose.


    "Doctor Katz, we can''t just go injecting him until we hook up the equipment." Doctor Elaine reminded the German Doctor. She leaned against a nearby wall, lazily canting to the side.


    "Yes, that''s all well and good, but is the equipment even ready? That Turing guy better be everything they said he is!" Doctor Katz was impatient, he wanted to start now.


    Unfortunately for them, a runner came by and told them Turing was having some problems with the equipment in the final test phase. It wouldn''t be ready for another few hours at the least. Doctor Katz cried out in frustration, his grand dreams of advancing science and medicine delayed by another few hours.


    "Not that you have a choice, but let''s talk about the effects of X-BC 257 and what could possibly happen to you, Captain Conlin." Doctor Elaine said. Her lips curled in a sadistic smile. Looks like she relishes what could possibly happen compared to what will.


    "X-BC 257 was developed in secret by Doctor Katz and me, it utilizes a series of micro chemicals to illuminate foreign places and things inside your brain, of course, we can''t see it without the equipment Doctor Turing is making for us. There is a long list of side effect that could happen to you, some of which are migraines, aneurysms resulting in death, catatonic vegetative state...." The list went on and on, listing practically every way you could die, getting more twisted and horrible with every second Thomas listened in. After about ten minutes the doctor pursed her lips and frowned when she realized that Thomas wasn''t listening in, he was tuned out and probably thinking about other things.


    "In short Thomas," she said trying to get his attention. "In the words of Major General Hughes, high risk high reward. Of course we tried our best to lower the risks, but we only managed to eliminate outright death. So you''ll have to make do with the other side effects, most of which we''ve developed experimental cures for. Can''t have you dying on the lab table." She smiled, waiting for her words to slowly sink in. Thomas has lived two lives though, so he really didn''t care. One death is just like any other at this point. Suddenly, the same messenger who appeared earlier came back.


    "Doctor Schubert, they''re ready now." The messenger then saluted and went back the way he came. The doctor smiled and turned to Doctor Katz. "Good news doctor, it looks like you''ll finally get to try out your "progress of science" you always drone on about."


    "ADVANCEMENT! ADVANCEMENT! Science is constantly advancing, it is medicine that is progressing!" Doctor Katz cried adamantly. "Yes you''re right though, today is the day!" He smiled evilly at Thomas. "So Captain, are you ready to meet our brilliant mathematician? Ready or not, here we go!" The mad doctor''s laughter echoed across the lab as he joyously cackled about the upcoming clinical trials. He waited too long for this, and now he was going to get his turn to be like the great scientists of old. Paving the way one Captain at a time.

 24 Doctor Alan Turing

    Doctor Alan Turing was smart and handsome, to say the least, not only did he have the perfect facial structure, but even his hair was combed and parted perfectly. There was a lot you could say about the man, from his mannerisms to the way he spoke to people. He was excessively polite, but he knew how to get what he wanted. He had the firmest handshake in the room, you would never have known it looking at his smooth, soft, and baby-like hands. He wasn''t someone you thought would command respect, but when he spoke it made you just want to respectfully listen.


    "Doctor Turing," Doctor Elaine lightly coughed, she had a rosy red tint to her cheeks, not surprising if she fell for the good mathematician. He had the looks, the charm, and the smarts, what girl in the world wouldn''t want him? "You said you''ve finished your machine that we were waiting on for the test?"


    "Ah, yes, yes I have Doctor Schubert." Doctor Turing spoke fast, but concise, each word was spoken with precision and efficiency. "I have, in fact, made two new machines based on the designs provided to me by the good Major General. One is a machine which can let us see what''s going on with Thomas''s brain by taking high-density scans and the other is an auto-calculator. It computes things as well. I haven''t a name for it yet, but I shall undoubtedly have one soon!" He had complete confidence in himself as if such a thing was the most natural in the world.


    Thomas looked around while they were conversing, they were in a tiled room, there was a big metal box over in one corner with a bunch of cables and wires hooked up to it. It occasionally beeped and slowly spit out a bunch of stock images of a brain, they were rather large pictures. It was hooked up to a couple of tall rectangular boxes with flashing lights and whirring sounds. It truly was unfamiliar to Thomas. That in return was hooked up to a smaller white square box, it was lit up and there was text scrolling across the surface. It almost looked like you could reach out and touch it. It made several sounds, beeping, clicks, and whirring. Thomas imagined that''s what a human brain sounded like if you could hear someone thinking, just a bunch of processing noises.


    Other things in the room included a big tube-like machine, enough to fit one person strapped to a table like himself. It was truly mind-boggling how they made such a machine. Guess this was thanks to Kincade as well. Leave it to a mathematician and a bunch of egg heads to come up with something like this. Thomas guessed this is what was supposed to take pictures of his mind, which then get processed by that ugly box over there, and finally, spit out by the other big ugly box. All these machines took up most of the room by themselves. That wasn''t what Thomas would call efficient by any means.


    "Thomas, were you listening?" Doctor Elaine turned to Thomas, her breasts really stood out in that uniform to Thomas. He really shouldn''t be paying attention to that, but she was leaning over him at just such an angle that he could see the top of them. For a man who hasn''t touched a woman in a lifetime or so, it was severely tempting. He mentally shook the cobwebs from his head and replied. "No, Doctor. I am truly sorry, I was mystified by all this equipment."


    "No need to concern yourself with what it is, Thomas." She said, "Just know this is all the key to finding Kincade, we hope to combine your souls, or at least provide you with the key to do so. I''ll turn you over to Doctors Katz and Turing."


    The two aforementioned doctors stepped forward and began to explain their plan. If anyone else heard this plan, they would have locked the two doctors up in the funny farm for insane reasoning.


    "Okay Captain Conlin, we''re going to explain what is going to happen to you while you''re undergoing this procedure." Alan Turing stepped forward, his teeth shining a dazzling white as he flashed Thomas a smile. Then Katz chimed in with his enthusiastic attitude towards new science.


    "It''s a miracle! A miracle I tell you! Science will continue to shock and awe the world! What Turing and I have made is nothing short of a miracle, and all of it produced by science! Hahahaha!" Doctor Turing shook his head as he facepalmed himself. He was truly exasperated by Doctor Bernard Katz'' erratic actions and dysfunctionally enthusiastic attitude sometimes. He sighed and stopped Doctor Katz before starting his explanation again.


    "As I was saying, and as Doctor Katz wanted to chime in with. This room serves two purposes. The first of which is to get the brains scans of where Kincade is hiding in your head, the second is that we''ve specially constructed this room for you while you were out cold. We have come up with an advanced composite for the walls and doors, all glass has been triple-reinforced and tempered. This is all because we want you to find and battle Kincade in this room. On your own terms, we are giving you the freedom to control your dreams. To some degree, of course, we cannot be completely certain how much control you will have. We will be monitoring and observing the situation as it unfolds within this room. Nothing Kincade can come up with short of a nuclear blast will destroy the observation room windows. Even if he could, it will trigger a quadruple-reinforced shutter of advanced design to lockdown the observation room before any of us get hurt."


    "Yes! Yes! Soon we will be rolling out this composite armor for our tanks! It will make them all but unstoppable!" Doctor Katz blurted out excitedly. "Although Ido have to admit, the Germans will probably find some counter to this armor after suffering a few defeats. We may be looking at a full-scale technological advance of the entire world within the next year or so. It truly is unavoidable, though I hoped we could hold the advantage for just a little longer."


    "Well Thomas, the automatized calculator over there in the corner must be finished with its initial testing batch by now. We should get started on your treatment. We wish you luck!" Doctor Turing nodded towards Thomas and Elaine. He and Doctor Katz exited the room, leaving Elaine and Thomas behind.


    "Well, Mr. Conlin, let''s get this show on the road. If we all survive this, maybe you can treat me to some dinner sometime as a reward?" Doctor Elaine flashed a smile at Thomas before wheeling him into the brain imaging machine. "We don''t have an official name for this machine yet, and I doubt it will be useful for anyone besides you. We will probably shelve it until it can be made for use on everyone in the future. You''ll hear some really loud clicking, maybe some whirring. That''s normal. What we really want you to do is fall asleep in there. We will guide you the rest of the way."


    Doctor Elaine clutched the needle full of X-BC 257 in her hands. This was it, the moment they all waited for. If this were to be successful...she dare not imagine it. She smiled at Thomas before she lifted the needle high in the air. She stabbed him straight in the center of his skull, the hardened tip of the needle pierced the bone before coming to a stop just before his brain. She pressed the plunger down slowly and the rainbow contents of the needle slowly drained into his brain, becoming a cosmic sea of rainbow-hued stars amongst the ebb and flow of brain matter, fluid, and blood. The colored stars floated and attached themselves to various brain cells, stems, and roots. His brain lit up like a Christmas Tree at an atomic and molecular level.


    Doctor Elaine finished administering the dosage of chemicals to Thomas before she kissed him on the forehead. "Good luck Captain, you''re going to need it. We''re all rooting for you." She walked out of the room the same way everyone else had. Thomas laid there and wondered why she was attracted to him in the first place. Was it because he was an interesting medical specimen, or was there something more to it? Thomas closed his eyes as the machine started up, it really did click loudly, enough for him to set his teeth on edge, the whirring sound swirled inside his head as the machine became a cacophony of indistinct noises within the burning, rising pressure building inside his brain. It all came to a climax when the whirring, clicking, burning, and pressure stopped all at once. The world went still for what seemed an eternity to Thomas.


    Afer a few minutes in actual reality, all of the noises resumed at once and Thomas who couldn''t bear the pain anymore fainted into the arms of what promised to be the most hellish sleep he ever had in his lifetimes.

 25 Monte Cassino Nightmare

    Thomas awoke to the feeling of fine, gritty, and sharp pieces of dirt with rocks embedded in it smacking him in the face. An explosion happened not too far away from him in which a hand grenade went off. There was a soldier who got caught in the explosion. He was missing half a leg and screaming in utter pain, his shrill screams were drowned out by the sound of machine gun fire and mortar explosions which promptly interrupted his screams for all of eternity when some machine gun fire stitched his face into swiss cheese. The dirt around him got splattered with bits of blood, bone, and metal fragments turning the area around him into a sort of shattered glass look, befitting of the fallen soldier.


    Thomas looked around, he recognized where he was, the hills to both sides, the long narrow road between. This was the valley pass at Monte Cassino, the fighting was hard here and he almost didn''t make it. Back then the fighting was just as fierce, they were pushed back three times by the Germans. The artillery the Germans fielded turned this pass into a kill zone, no one could pass without tremendous losses, on top of that, anyone who made it through ended up at the mercy of MG-42s.


    Thomas quickly looked around and took stock of his overall situation. Things were pretty grim, they were at the beginning of the valley, but they were already being pushed back a couple of yards at a time. It was a gruesome scene, tens of bodies falling by the minute, retreating backward in shame. Thomas had to turn this situation around, but first, he had to figure out which failed assault this is.


    The problem is, he only gets one chance to determine which of three failed assaults this was. He, after all, had only participated in the final push for victory on the fourth assault, the French had done their jobs by eliminating the artillery and machine gun nests on one of the mountainsides, allowing a pincer action between French and American forces which quickly rolled over the defending Germans.


    Well he needed a weapon first, he looked around, not twenty feet away there was a dead soldier with M1 Carbine. Thomas moved over and he had to pry the rifle out of the young soldier''s dead hands, even in death he still valued the tool of his survival. Load of good it did him though, the sniper round through the back of his head says otherwise. Thomas quickly searched the young man''s body, he also remembered to shut his eyes, he found enough ammunition to last a few magazines. He would need another gun very soon.


    He was armed now, that was one less thing to worry about. He quickly looked at his rank patch, he is a sergeant, that''s good, he can lead a squad. Two things down, quick equipment check, he had two frags, a couple of magazines for a pistol he didn''t have, seems like he lost most of his equipment somehow. He took the fallen soldier''s pistol, it was a Colt 1911, decent pistol, very reliable. Magazines match, he is set. Time to get the show on the road.


    Thomas looked around for the nearest squad through all of the flying bullets and dirt haze, he really hated fighting in these conditions. He ran with the retreat through the bullets and haze, dirt being stitched through the air by machine gun fire, or tossed like a salad by artillery before lingering about in the air. The screams of anguish and pain still filled the air, lingering like phantoms on the wind, it was a very surreal scene. Thomas finally found what he was looking for, a squad without any sort of command. It consisted of two private and a corporal, he addressed the highest ranking soldier there, a Corporal Shelland.


    "You there, Corporal!" Thomas had to shout above all of the noise. Shelland whipped his head in Thomas direction before saluting for a brief moment against regulations.


    "Sir! Didn''t see you there sir!"


    "At ease men, who''s your commanding officer?" Thomas needed to know, in case they were still alive. It is really frowned upon to take command of someone else''s men.


    "Sergeant Calhoun sir! He took a hit awhile back and bled out. We''ve been retreating since then! We need to find some cover sir!" Shelland was correct, they were out in the open, the whole group quickly found and ducked behind some cover, it was just a bunch of rocks that formed a natural boulder-like wall. Bullets followed them up until they hunkered down behind the rock wall, where they instead tried to drill through the rock to no avail.


    "Alright, no more retreating, we need to get out on that ridge and assist our allies in taking out those artillery! They''re chewing up our men!" Thomas laid out his plan, it was not well recieved.


    "Sir!" One of the privates complained, "There are just four of us! How are we supposed to do that without a substantial force or any explosives?"


    "We''ll pick all of it up on the way, search dead bodies, anyone who can walk and hold a gun. We are not dying here today boys!" Thomas said. He was firm in his reply, his faith and conviction seemed rock solid and pulled the other soldiers together.


    "Sir! We''ll get it done sir!" They gave Thomas a quick salute, and as one they all exited from cover to the greetings of machine gun fire, it missed all four of them and kicked up the sand at their feet instead. They all went scavenging for ammunition, supplies, explosives, anything of use. They were to meet back at the rock wall in no more than ten minutes according to the plan. They needed to either silence the machine guns on the left ridge or make their way up the right and destroy the artillery. Thomas found a couple of corpses with some more rounds for his M1 Carbine, he also picked up more frag grenades and one sticky grenade. He didn''t find anything else on them, he closed their eyes and moved on, no time to check for more. The next corpse he came across was just half a body with bits of bone and exposed ribcage, looks like he took the force from an artillery shell, but not the explosion. At least his equipment was intact, Thomas picked up another frag grenade and swapped out his Colt 1911 for the Webley Revolver this soldier had, shame he died. It was custom made, with a nice floral pattern on the hand grip and barrel. There was a nice amount of ammunition on his body to go with the six-shooter.


    Thomas found one more body before he decided to head back, it was his look the man was an engineer. He carried enough explosives to destroy a few of the artillery, looks like they''ll be attacking the ridge on the right instead of the left. Thomas grabbed some of the explosives, he couldn''t carry them all, and hauled ass back to the rock wall. Along the way he found some private snivelling behind a rock, he looked pretty demoralized, but after slapping him around a few times and giving a short motivational speech, the private willingly went with him. The private was a heavy gunner and carried a Browning Automatic Rifle or BAR for short. His was rechambered to be belt fed a thirty round belt instead of the standard twenty round magazine, he carried ten belts on him.


    Thomas arrived at the rock wall and he was greeting with a plethora of people of all ranks. The two privates and Shelland were there and they each brought along five people. There were two private first class, two corporals, three sergeants, suprisingly they found and managed to rope in a field liuetenant, and one captain. Thomas scratched his head, he wasn''t sure how he was going to explain this to the higher ranks.


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    OBSERVATION ROOM, AREA 1 FACILITY


    The doctors were all astonished by what they are seeing in front of them through the observation glass, they would have never believed the reports otherwise. The entire medical room where Thomas is in, is gone, replaced by the scenes from Monte Cassino as seen through Thomas''s eyes. His phasing ability didn''t phase him through time, he was the time phase. He literally goes back to the past to fight Kincade on a battlefield of Kincade''s choosing, almost like chess. If they were to understand it, when they saw Thomas close his eyes, the room was enveloped in an incredible burst of light before swirling into the vortex they see now.


    "Doctor Katz, what do you make of this phenomenon?" Doctor Elaine had no knowledge on any of this. She was just a really good surgeon.


    "I believe this is out of our hands, this has nothing to do with his brain, it is more like a calling." Doctor Katz replied.


    "Maybe not so outside of our expertise as a whole though, doctors." Turing chimed in. "Although the computer is destroyed, the data in it, is not, I had that fed by wire to a nearby electric typewriter I made. Paper copies exist, perhaps we can formulate a solution. We may need to bring in a Physicist."


    "Doctor Turing is correct, this is not something we alone can handle." Doctor Elaine pointed out towards the reinforced mecial room where bullets were flying about and artillery shells were exploding. It seemed that Thomas did affect the space around him, just not in the way which they had hypothesized. It seems they were going to have to force Kincade to come out in the open.


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Thomas spent a good ten minutes explaining his plan to the Captain who had the highest rank here. His name last name was Butler, he refused to give out his first name. The plan was three fold, they had enough people here for three squads. Two five-man and a four-man squad. Each squad would carry two of the explosives that Thomas had brought from the dead engineer, bless his sacrifice. They would climb the ridge from the side, the French were supposed to have climbed from the back, but they may have met too much resistance. It would be a mix of light a medium arms, the only exception being the private Thomas brought back, Thomas insisted he bring the private with him. They would only get one shot at this plan, failure could not be tolerated.


    Once they climbed the ridge, they were to regroup and take out as many artillery as they can, silencing the machine guns on the ridge as well. One of the PFCs that the Corporal brought back was a radiomen, they wouldn''t need to use signals now. If possible, the guns they capture at the end had to be turned towards the machine gunners on the other ridge. If they could destroy those positions, the allies would be in a favorable position in which they could push forward and possibly turn around this assault. They needed to keep the radioman alive as long as possible, to that end the radioman would be going with the Captain''s squad, they had the most favorable route. Now that the plan had been approved, it was time to actualize it. A quick radio call was sent out through the open channels, all squads were to advance to the ridge, this was do or die. The Germans would not live to hold this pass at the end of the day.

 26 Monte Cassino Nightmare: The Ridge

    Thomas shouted profanities, this climb was much harder than he thought it was going to be. They hadn''t lost a single soldier yet, but the rate it was going, they might soon. They had gathered a force of fifty men at the foot of the ridge, of various ranks and nationalities. With only one goal in mind, storm the ridge, take out the artillery. The main force was still in retreat, but they could turn this around with just this one move. The Germans were throwing heavy rocks and lead at them from the top of the ridge, you think that they would have hit someone by now, but their aim was terrible. It seems they were distracted by someone or something, they only posted a squad up above, it wasn''t a completely vertical climb, they could fire back, but the recoil would knock them off their feet, that was more dangerous than weathering the bullets and rocks.


    Thomas pulled out his revolver from his hip holster and popped off a couple of shots at the German above him, it was a direct hit. The German who had been setting up an MG-34 was hit in the knee and the chest, pieces of bone were sticking out as he died of shock, Thomas could see the disbelief on his face as he fell forward over the ridge. He bounced off a few rocks and hit the ground below, the impact was inaudible, there was too much noise going on for them to hear it. Thomas''s pack and gear were starting to weigh him down, it was getting really heavy. He looked around and he saw the grime, the exhaustion, the pain, the sweat, the determination, it steeled his resolve.


    More German troops arrived at the top of the ridge. Thomas ordered his platoon to pull out sidearms, they were to unload on the soldiers above. Thomas shot a few times and managed to hit a German soldier in the heart, he was setting up an MG-34, which promptly fell off the ridge when he tumbled backward into another German, his bullet wound spewing a fountain of blood into that soldier''s face, causing him to blindly tumble off the ridge, his scream echoing back up towards them, only to be suddenly cut off. The salvo unleashed by everyone else knocked off another ten Germans, reducing them to just a squad again. The other platoons which made up Thomas''s company also copied his orders, the Germans stood no chance, another salvo was unleashed, sidearms were more accurate in this situation than their rifles and sub-machine guns could ever have been.


    POP! POP! POP! POP!


    Magazines were emptied, they fell in unison, pistols and sidearms were reloaded, another salvo, more fallen Germans. In this fashion they advanced up the ridge, it was a magnificent fight. Just advancing up the ridge caused the Germans to panic, their formations and ordered regiments quickly rushed to reinforce, leaving gaps in their main force. Allied Command picked up on this and ordered all companies forward, the advance into Monte Cassino began again. The Germans had over-extended themselves and began pulling companies off the left ridge, leaving a light defense to stall the British advance, it worked for a time. The Allies fought into a stalemate as more German reinforcements arrived from the rear to bolster defenses. Thomas and the rest of the company had to hurry and take the guns or this plan would fail, that would be bad for everyone involved, including himself.


    They had finally ascended the ridge, it was a maze of trenches and embedded MG nests, bunkers, and other fortifications. Luckily, their side didn''t have any barbed wire, it seems the Germans did not prepare for an assault from the side of the ridge. As treacherous as it is steep, Thomas looked back and saw the sight lines below were slightly skewed and a defense here would have done no good. He waved the company forward, it was time to advance through the trenches. Thomas jumped into the nearest one, he was greeted by a couple of German soldiers, he tackled one and threw his knife at the other, the knife sliced deep into the soldier''s shoulder, causing him to drop his gun as his shoulder and arm went slack. The German that Thomas tackled pulled out a knife from his waistband and tried to stab Thomas, they grappled with it, but ultimately as they were struggling, more allied troops jumped into the trench and distracted him. Thomas stabbed the German with his own knife, the blade sunk inch by inch into his chest, Thomas watched as the German struggled then slowly the light left his eyes and he went slack. The other soldier was shot to death by arriving allies, Thomas had gained all the time he needed with his knife throw.


    Thomas regained his knife, wiping the blood on the dead German''s uniform, he stowed it back in his waistband sheathe. He scavenged a few more frag grenades, "potato mashers" they were called because they were just a stick handle with an explosive head at the end. Easier for throwing, terrible detonation fuse. He now had a plethora of frag grenades, this would come in handy for trench clearing at the very least. They advanced through the trench, just a force of fifty men, a tiny amount compared to the thousands of Germans up here, but maybe, a tiny amount is all that is needed when surgically cutting away a part of the battlefield. Thomas shot a few more Germans with his M1 Carbine, his aim impressed everyone else around him. Every shot counted, they only had so much ammunition as it was, they couldn''t afford to waste it on constantly missing.


    Thomas rounded the corner and instantly jumped back, his fading figure was greeted by machine gun fire, he got clipped in the shoulder, it wasn''t bad, but it hurt like hell. Bullet went clean through, no muscle damage, he could still move his arm. Thomas thought for a second, then he pulled out a frag grenade, he pulled the pin and waited three seconds before throwing it towards the source of the machine gun stream, there were a loud but brief explosion and Thomas dove around the corner, M1 ready as he hit the ground. The dirt and dust cleared, he could see the gunner behind a pile of sandbags that looked hastily set up, he shot him in the chest twice for good measure, his partner was already laying on the ground, it looks like he jumped on top of the frag grenade. There was just a huge puddle of blood underneath his body, mixing with the dirt, causing it to be reddish brown. Thomas and company moved on, there was a fork in the trench, Thomas took half and went one way, Captain took the other half and went the other way. Command was notified, they had ascended the ridge and were advancing on the first set of artillery guns.


    Thomas charged down the left fork and was greeted with silence, it looks like the Germans had retreated rather hastily, there were equipment and ammunition scattered everywhere. Everything was already starting to burn, smoke lazily drifted into the sky. They cautiously made their way to the first gun, Thomas told Shellander to check it for traps, just as he looked into the barrel, the gun exploded, taking Shellander''s face with it as he collapsed into a headless pile of bones and blood. It seems taking the artillery wasn''t going to be as easy as they thought. The other artillery guns were going to be more heavily defended, they will have had time to regroup and set up a more concrete defense. Thomas waved over a couple of sergeants and some corporals.


    "Alright listen up, it''s clear the Germans abandoned these set of guns, they may be planning to dig in ahead. I want volunteers on top of the trenches as scouts, it''s a dangerous job, so I am sending two squads. Any volunteers?"


    One of the sergeants and two of the corporals volunteered. The sergeant and one of the two volunteer corporals were picked and told to hand pick some privates to get the job done. A total of eight people climbed out of the trench, there was no gunfire, no dead bodies yet. Thomas had a feeling they might have retreated to the third or fourth set of guns, it was going to be a long day.


    His feelings were correct. The two squads came back not a man down and they reported seeing a large German withdrawal, on the bright side, this side of the ridge was also firmly in allied control, The French group that was supposed to be making their way from the backside of the ridge now had an opening. Thomas met up with the other Captain and they relayed this to allied command. Orders were in. They were to advance and seize all artillery at all costs, they were winning this fight today.

 27 Monte Cassino Nightmare: Bunker to Bunker

    Thomas and company ran into a problem after clearing the second set of guns, the reason the Germans had retreated so hastily. They had several dug in and fortified bunkers guarding the trenches to the next set of artillery guns. The next set of trenches and the set after were probably a series of bunkers, they would have to clear each one. That was going to cause a lot of casualties, but thankfully with the French reinforcements, they had enough troops to assault each bunker. This made Thomas''s head hurt, he knew the trenches would turn into kill zones, good thing they had smoke grenades. Thomas called for some smoke for the next trench alley, they were going to have to move forward under the cover of smoke, probably close to the ground to avoid getting chewed to pieces.


    Two PFCs came forward, they both carried four smoke grenades each for tactical use, it seems their job during the assault was to obscure German gunners so the companies could advance forward with fewer casualties. Now they were being repurposed for another job that was practically the same, covering their advance so they could storm the bunker. Thomas ordered the PFCs to throw their smoke grenades in twenty-second increments, that way the smoke and haze would never clear, everyone else was to crawl on the ground as that would provide the best avenue for avoiding the German MGs from killing them.


    "ALL TROOPS, CHARGE!" Thomas screamed! Smoke grenades were deployed, there was a thunderous roar and all of the allied troops hit the dirt, causing the earth to tremble a little. They advanced forward under the cover of the smoke, the German MG at the end of the trench corridor started blasting blindly through the smoke, thanks to Thomas''s direction, they crawled underneath the bullet stream as it whizzed by their heads. Men screamed and bullets flew, dirt exploded, and wood chips flew everywhere. It was brutal, more than a few soldiers were nicked by wood chips, a few had even lost their eyes, but they kept on going, they were determined to capture this bunker. For the fallen, and all the friends they lost along the way, and the many more they were going to lose because no one lives forever.


    Thomas reached the edge of the bunker, it took a total of three minutes, the training he endured crawling under barbed wire at Camp Young came in handy today. He lobbed a grenade through the Machine Gun port in the concrete bunker. There was a brief shout followed by an intense explosion which shook the ground in force, flames spewed out of the bunker over Thomas''s head, singing a couple of hairs. It sounded like they had quite a bit of ammunition inside.


    Thomas got to his feet when a German who was on fire and had flaming pieces of flesh melting off his face came screaming out of the bunker, hands wildly flailing and clutching at his burning face, ripping off more chunks. Out of pity Thomas shot the man in the head with his revolver, then calmly reloaded it, there was no need to check this bunker, time to move on to the next one. A group of soldiers rushed ahead of Thomas, and he watched as they were shredded by the next bunker. Their bodies jerking and spasming in response to being filled with a ton of lead by the MG that had that corridor covered.


    Another soldier tried to climb on top of the trench and his body jerked backward and fell over, a neat hole in the middle of his forehead, he had been killed by a sniper, no one could see from where. Their only option was to charge through the trenches, no clever tricks could be used here, Thomas himself hated this. They were out of smoke grenades as well. Thomas could only charge down the corridor, there was no other way. Lobbing a grenade wouldn''t work, they were encased in a concrete bunker, the grenade would bounce off or explode harmlessly.


    Thomas leaned around the corner with his M1 Carbine, he quickly took aim at the MG port and popped off two shots in quick succession. There was no follow-up machine gun fire, he might have gotten a lucky hit. He waved everyone forward, they started rushing down the trench, blasting the MG port with as much fire as they could to suppress the MG gunner.


    Thomas stormed the bunker, he found the gunner behind the port dead, he was riddled with bullet holes and blood was still pouring from the wounds. He had a look of shock on his face, even in death he could not believe he would die this way. Thomas bent down and closed the man''s eyes before he cautiously moved on, he rounded the corner and came face to face with a couple of Germans, he shot them both in the chest before they had time to react, they dropped like flies, they never knew what hit them. Thomas ducked behind a wall as a German armed with an MP-40 came around the corner spraying, he caught a couple of American soldiers who had just entered the bunker with his spray. They danced and pirouetted on the spot as he filled them full of holes, yelling at the same time, his face grimy and black, with the exception of a trail of tears currently streaking down his face. Thomas calmly rounded the corner as the man emptied his magazine, he was desperately trying to reload when Thomas shot the man out of mercy, he would never have to remember this night ever again.


    Stepping over the corpses, Thomas entered a door and came to a bunk room of sorts, it was a large area and currently, it was occupied by a squad of Germans who were all hiding behind tables, rifles, and sub-machine guns at the ready. Thomas thought better of it, and he left the room quickly. He pulled the pin on a frag grenade and lobbed it through the door after three seconds. There was a lot of shouting and then an explosion, someone''s arm flew through the door, nobody attached.


    When Thomas entered the room, he was greeted with a murder scene, there was blood painting the bunks, the walls, the floors, and the ceiling. There were severed limbs everywhere, the tables had been chewed through with fragments, and most of the corpses were not whole. It wasn''t the prettiest scene, but the frag grenade got the job done. A couple of fresh American soldiers came into the room and started gagging immediately on the iron stench of blood and the mutilated corpses, they both lost their lunches on the floor, adding to the mess.


    Although it seemed disrespectful, Thomas scrounged the corpses for .30-06 ammunition for his M1 Carbine, he needed some rounds desperately. He couldn''t find any, so he swapped out for an MP-40 that was lying in the hand of a severed arm a few feet away, he found it''s owner and pilfered him of the ammunition he was carrying. With the two soldiers in tow, they proceeded to mop up the rest of the bunker, there weren''t that many Germans left in this one, most of them seemed to be in the first bunk room.


    Thomas exited the bunker, the sky was overcast and although he had been inside for just ten minutes, it had started to rain as it often does on the Italian coastline during the summer. The rain soaked into the blood-filled trenches, mixing it and making it hard to traverse. Many of the soldiers started to grumble about the weather, but there was nothing they could do. A radioman found Thomas and told him command was on the horn, they wanted to speak to him.


    "Sir! Sargeant Thomas Conlin reporting in sir," Thomas said into the radio.


    "Damn fine job you''re doing Son, we''ve got a plan in the works, you''ve been field promoted to the rank of Master Sargeant, artillery use has been authorized. Navy guns are standing offshore three miles out, call the salvo with red smoke, I repeat, call the salvo with red smoke. Command out!"


    The radio went dead silent, Thomas handed it back to the radioman, things were going to get easier from this point on, they could just shell out the bunkers. They weren''t buried particularly deep into the ground, they probably didn''t even have time to harden and reinforce them either, it was a win-win scenario for Thomas. He could almost see the giant explosions coming from the ground, dirt spewing in geysers of haze and concrete mixed with blood. He relished the thought of taking the fight to them without losing am an for it. He quickly called for any troops with red smoke to come forward, they were to give the smoke to him to deploy. Of course, they couldn''t wait between salvos, they had to at least storm a few bunkers in the time it takes for the naval ships to rearm.


    Thomas pressed forward with a grin on his face, there were bunkers to blow up and he didn''t want to miss the fireworks.

 28 Monte Cassino Nightmare: USS District of Columbia

    The USS District of Columbia was a fine US Naval Battleship, designed in secret with prototype technology back in Nineteen-Thirty-Six and was completed in early Nineteen-Thirty-Nine. She was eight-hundred and sixty inches in length, the longest warship in US history. She had prototype naval guns, the largest the world had seen, they were ultra-light in weight due to the material composite used in the construction, they were classified as twenty-inch guns. Officially designated as The Mark I Ultra-Light Heavies, the USS District of Columbia is the only ship of her class with two such guns. The ammunition was a prototype shell that used a stabilizing fin, allowing for longer flight times and a more accurate trajectory path. It was almost a modern day tank shell if the tank shells used in modern day weighed twenty-seven hundred pounds and were thirty inches in length. The shells were massive and also built with the ultra-lightweight composite materials that made up the room at the medical facility where Thomas is at. The explosives used in the shell were a prototype mixture that was classified, officially labeled Composite Three, or C-Three for short. It was made to explode on contact with any surface, very useful for naval warfare, as a near miss on the water would still result in a huge explosion.


    The USS District of Columbia also had brand new engines that were less based on crude oil and more based on a nuclear hydrogen mix as directed byanother Kincade prototype technology, it ensures that the engines were more powerful and enabled more juice for the ship, but the cost was quite high as the shakedown sequence was longer and it took a full twenty minutes to start up, deadly for any ship that suffers a power failure. There were many redundancies and safeties built in to ensure a power failure to the engine doesn''t occur, but nothing is one hundred percent. If any of the specially trained engine crew dies, that would also be bad, they didn''t have any in reserve, the technology wasn''t as understood, so they didn''t have a class they could sit people through.


    The USS District of Columbia also had something other naval ships during it''s time did not have, firing control solutions. Thanks to Alan Tucker and a few other eggheads, they were able to install a prototype computer system into the naval ship. With a crudely done, but sophisticated AI prototype, it was capable of calculating the correct trajectory and firing arc for any fire solution the Captain of the ship may desire to enter. One could say it is the epitome of naval warships in the Second World War era, it''s only vulnerability still remained it''s top deck, they still opted for the wood look on top. Nice to look at, but it doesn''t offer much in terms of defense, which is why she had a compliment of Anti-Aircraft batteries installed along the aft and starboard sides of the ship, they still had to be crewed by the seaman, but thanks to advances in wheel bearings and other small hardware pieces, they turned faster and more smoothly, allowing for a greater access to shooting down aircraft. Due to the value of the warship, AA Batteries were to be crewed at all times in rotating shifts, each gun required a crew of three. The AA batteries were a mix of American-made Flakk shells based on the German design and twenty-millimeter regular guns. The Flakk was an interesting concept developed by two unknown designers in the navy over a drunken game of cards. It used a proximity-based warhead instead of the standard timer, so if a plane neared it, theoretically it would explode, severely damaging the plane.


    Going back to her armaments, besides the two MARK Is and the AA Batteries, the ship also had four smaller naval guns at five inches. They were the standard thirty-eight caliber and could be repurposed for anti-aircraft, but they hid one more secret. They were slaved to the firing control computer and did not require a human crew like the twenty-inch pounders. That was their greatest secret, as long as the firing axis and the coordinates were input, the computer would do the rest. It was heavily classified and no one under the rank of Rear-Admiral knew about it, with the exception of the Captain of the ship of course.


    Currently, the ship was just off the coast on standby, orders from allied command were to await firing coordinates, red smoke designated the approximate location. Its crew were at general quarters, they weren''t under attack yet, but that could change any moment. At that point, all hands to battle stations would be called and the entire ship would be a flurry of activity. As it was right now, the entire ship was on standby, only the bridge and gun crews were at battle stations, the ship was tense, just ready to unleash hell and misery on their targets. The Captain himself was an impatient man, he hated sitting around, which fit the nature of his ship that was armed to the teeth. Just as he could wait no more, the call finally came in.

 29 MCN: The Righteous Call of Thunder

    Five minutes before the USS Firestorm was set to standby, Thomas and Company were clearing bunker after bunker, they had made it halfway across the ridge. They disabled another two sets of artillery guns, though, through a mishap, Thomas lost one of radioman when he got caught in a trap set on one of the artillery guns much like the deceased Corporal Shelland. Thomas could hear the boom of the other artillery guns left, he knew they needed to quickly take the rest of the ridge, it was vital to the assault.


    The only problem was, they were now at a cross section between three German bunkers and two MG nests, they couldn''t just waltz out there, they would be shredded instantly. Thomas had no choice, he needed to call the thunder. He needed the USS Firestorm, if it could take out at least two bunkers out of the three, they would be in the clear to storm the last bunker.


    Thomas called for the radioman, who came to the front and handed him off to command. Usually, there would be a spotter or someone versed in calling out coordinates, but Thomas didn''t need one. He had a lifetime of experience calling in salvos, whether that was ground-based artillery, air strikes, or naval strikes, he had done them all.


    "This is Master Sargeant Thomas! We are pinned down by German MG fire from three different bunkers, calling for immediate fire support!" Thomas had to yell into the radio over the sounds of machine gun fire and cannons booming, there were a lot of screams and moans as well. The dead and the dying were numerous, they had last about five percent of the entire company trying to assault these trenches.


    "Roger that, request approved, say firing coordinates, again say firing coordinates and lay down the red," Command''s message was brief and terse but got to the point.


    "Firing coordinates Echo Zulu One One Niner Five One Five, the target is marked by red smoke, I repeat, the target is marked by red smoke!" Thomas replied and quickly tossed two red smoke canisters as hard as he could at the two bunkers he wanted to be destroyed. They were a little off the mark, but that was good enough. He didn''t need to put an exact out, the navy ships could figure out the rest.


    -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Back on the USS District of Columbia, Captain Alex Hawkens got the long-awaited call, a fire support request came through from the high priority channels on the comm. The target was marked by red smoke and with the high amplification scopes on the ship, they could clearly see the smoke. A call was put out, all hands were to battle stations, they were on alert and preparing to fire a salvo. The USS Firestorm was part of a Flotilla assigned to fire support for the Italian Campaign. It was one massive group labeled Western Task Force Eighty or TF Eighty for short. There were quite a few destroyers and a couple of aircraft carriers, it was the initial fleet that was assigned to the amphibious landings of Italy.


    "Firing coordinates Echo Zulu One One Niner Five One Five, the target is marked by red smoke, I repeat, the target is marked by red smoke!" That was Master Sargeant Thomas Conlin''s voice that came through the radio, both on the bridge and in the gunnery rooms below decks. His call for artillery was given the highest priority as a successful push on the ridge meant that they could turn this operation around, it was faring badly and this was their second attempt. Captain Hawkens had heard that the French Third Regulars had managed to link up with Conlin''s Company on the ridge once they''d taken the forward bunkers and guns, thereby opening a flank for the French to ascend and pour into. There was too much at stake this time.


    "Give me a firing solution, let''s hit''em with the twenties, Gunnery Officer." Captain Hawkens commanded. "Captain to Gunnery, you are cleared to load, I repeat, you are cleared to load, standby for firing solution!"


    Down below decks, there was klaxon siren sounding in the loading bays, crewmen scrambled to and fro, giant shells could be seen being loaded onto carts and wheeled towards a giant metal canister. They were loading shells into the new Mark Is, it wasn''t a do or die scenario, but for them, every second counted because each second someone out there was dying without their support. Such thinking bolstered the resolve and determination of these crewmen. They finished their work in under two minutes, all that was left was to calibrate the firing angle, then hit the firing sequence, the cannon''s mechanisms would do the rest.


    Back on the bridge, Captain Hawkens looked at the firing solution for the artillery, it seemed to be slightly off from the red smoke, but that didn''t matter much. It was only off by a few feet, that was the best they could do. Besides he had to wait for the rest of the fleet to synchronize their firing solutions as well, everyone would begin firing when he did. It was a marvelous feeling, being the lead in such an important request, he felt important himself. He relayed the firing solution to the Gunnery decks below.


    On deck, the massive twenty-inch cannons slowly swiveled and angled upward. The firing solution and angle adjustment had been set, all that awaited was the Captain''s command. Likewise in the rest of the Task Force, the main guns on each deck swiveled at their respective angles and adjusted, they too awaited the final order.


    "Fire." One simple word, once given, meant devastating results. With the loudest roar you could have ever heard for miles, it was like thunder on steroids, even the men at Monte Cassino miles off heard the dull roar of the cannons. The Germans became very afraid, they had no idea what was targeted, they all took shelter amidst a bunch of shouts and yells.


    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Thomas heard the cannons in the distance, he instantly dropped to his belly, but he kept his eyes straight ahead on the bunkers, he was really hoping for them to be directly hit. Everyone around him saw him hit the deck and copied him, he hadn''t led them astray so far, why would he now? There were a few who stood standing, they immediately regretted their mistake when the first shell hit.


    BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! THUNK! CRASH! BOOM! RUMBLE!


    The naval barrage crashed upon them like the sea against a cliff, thunderous roars and waves of concussion were felt and heard by everyone. There was a loud thunderous roar, as if the God of Thunder, Thor himself, descended from Asgard to wreak havoc upon the land. Then after the roar was a giant explosion that ripped apart the land, there was so much shaking that a part of the ridge collapsed and tumbled down below, causing it to look like someone chewed a chunk out of it. A fifty-foot geyser of dirt erupted into the air at the same time, covering the sky in a brown haze that instantly turned the overcast sky into one of temporary darkness.


    More shells rained down after the first, a total of thirty shells, twelve direct hits, eleven near hits, and three near misses. More dirt rained into the sky along with chunks of concrete that had been blasted into bits, all of that mixed with the rain that was already falling since Thomas had left the first bunker, it was a sight to behold. The trenches were already muddy enough, now the ground was cracked and there were giant mudholes which could easily injure or kill the unwary serviceman.


    After a few minutes, Thomas was able to stand, the shaking had subsided and it was time to check out the damage. He moved forward into what was the kill zone and immediately ran into a dazed German who couldn''t see, he was blinded. The German''s eyes had been torn from his head when some object tore across his face, it wasn''t a lethal injury, but it was enough to put him out of commission, technically he should be in a ton of pain, but he was too shellshocked to feel anything. Thomas just brushed past him and moved on to where the bunkers should be. Thomas couldn''t believe what he saw.

 30 MCN: No Will To Figh

    The devastation wrought by the cannon salvo from the offshore flotilla was unimaginable to anyone, not even Thomas could guess what would have happened. He did not know what caliber of gun they used, but normal five-inch guns would never be able to deal this kind of damage by themselves. Even though e had deployed only two red smoke and given the coordinates, the naval barrage had decimated all three bunkers, two were directly hit by the twenty-inch guns, they were just pieces of dirt, concrete, and blood now. The impact from the twenty-inch guns and all of the other artillery shook the third bunker apart, it was crumbling and Germans were still walking out of it dazed.


    The rest of the company moved forward and started taking prisoners, no one was going to shoot these obviously demoralized soldiers, some of them even looked like teenagers and probably were. Many of the Germans were falling to their knees or on their butts, they''d completely lost it, the shock of how brutal that strike was too any fight out of them, they were left with no will to fight. Others upon seeing their comrades give up also surrendered, they put down their guns and got to their knees. Thomas left ten men of the now thirty-five man company, it was a tough decision, but he couldn''t let these Germans gain their morale back in any way and he didn''t want to shoot them in cold blood after they had surrendered, that was not the American way.


    Thomas ducked into the central bunker, it was the only one left standing after the naval barrage, the doorway was only half intact, the top portion was caved in with a lot of rubble. He moved through the bunker swiftly, there were a lot of dead bodies, they looked intact, mostly just blood trickling from the eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Indications of severe internal injuries, most definitely the result of getting directly hit with artillery, the concussive force behind that is massive enough to do the job. Thomas was specifically looking for intelligence, as this bunker was the largest they had come across so far, it would be weird if they didn''t have any here.


    He didn''t find anything, most of it was already burned or buried under too much rubble to even begin dealing with, he did find a new gun to replace the MP-40 he picked up. He found a German SVT-40, a German semi-automatic on par with the American M1 Carbine, he also found a few magazines to go with it. He checked the breech on the SVT-40 to make sure it wasn''t jammed or otherwise because of the strike, he found it to be in working order. He made one last check around the bunker to make sure he did not miss anything of value, he was about to leave when he saw a German officer lying dead upon the floor. His insignia labeled him as a Hauptmann or German Captain, but usually they stayed back behind the lines, what was he doing here, in the middle of the battlefield? This was not a question he could answer, best inform command and leave it up to them.


    Thomas left the bunker and waved over the radioman before relaying what he had found to command, they were grateful for the information and would send a team of engineers to clear the rubble away and see what they could find after Monte Cassino had been taken. Thomas waved what remained of the company over, they were twenty-five in all now that they had to leave ten to guard. They still had the other half of the ridge line to take, no telling what the naval barrage did to the rest of the ridge.


    They moved on to the next bunker and they took it out much like the first two, under the cover of smoke and with a lot of gusto. Thomas did not find any German intelligence or plans inside that bunker either, though he did find a very nice and custom detailed Kar98 rifle, it even had an attached scope for sniping. Soon they reached the next set of guns, which were heavily defended.


    German artillery crews frantically reloaded and fired the Pak-38 they were crewing. Spent shells ejected from the field gun at the same rate it takes the standard soldier to reload their weapons. Each crew was protected by no less than ten German elites, the best of the best. They mostly wielded MP-40s or Gewehr-38 semi automatic rifles. As soon as Thomas rounded the corner, they started shooting, their shots going wide most of the time, but the intended effect was achieved, they forced Thomas back.


    Amidst the hail of gunfire that screamed through the air, Thomas ducked back around the corner, but not before he took a shot to the shoulder again, this time it bounced off the bone and stayed lodged inside. Thomas grunted, the pain wasn''t that great to him, he literally almost died just a week ago, his injuries then we''re more severe. He pulled a small compress out of one of the tactical pockets on his uniform and a small packet of sterilizing powder. He tore off the part of his shirt where he got shot and doused it with the sterilizing powder, which he then applied water from his canteen to. It stung like hell, but it was better than taking a bullet to the neck or the face. He stuck the compress on there and held it down until it stuck on his own, he didn''t have time to do a full bandaging like it should get.


    Thomas flexed his arm, it hurt a quite a bit, but the pain was tolerable, he probably broke the bone, which isn''t really a major issue as far as he is concerned. Then he pulled out one of the German "Potato Mashers", he had already memorized the positions of the German soldiers and it was time to return the favor. He pulled the detenator on the grenade before lobbing it over the trench wall. A nice resounding explosion followed by a small rain of dirt accompanied by the pained screams and howls of the German defenders. Thomas quickly pivoted around the corner with his rifle at the ready, and out of reflex he shot the two dazed Germans who were still standing.


    BANG! BANG! BANG! BANG!


    The last shot had just barely echoed out of his gun when the Germans fell over lifelessly. The other Germans who were still alive were missing limbs and bleeding all over the ground, pain etched into their faces looking for sweet relief. Thomas wasn''t without mercy and compassion or respect, he calmly walked up to each German and shot them in the head while looking them in the eyes. Although they were enemies, they were also men, most likely men who didn''t ask to be involved in this war, and still deserving of the respect and dignity afforded men. Thomas then turned his attention to the Germans crewing the Pak-38 who were now scrambling for their weapons, he shot each of them in the chest while they were still trying to pull out their sidearms. Their blood splattered against the Pak-38, staining the matte green cannon with a red hue.


    With all of the soldiers dealt with, Thomas walked up toPak-38 and looked out over the ridge, he had a nice view of the other ridge. He could see the streams of MG fire coming from that ridge, raining down fury and vengeance on the allied force below. He smiled, it was time to give them a taste of their own medicine.

 31 MCN: Turning the Figh

    Thomas waved over three soldiers, he needed two of them to help man the Pak-38 and the last one for spotting and coordinate calling. He also radioed Command and updated them about the situation, they were very pleased and gave orders for the rest of the force to keep pushing on to the castle, allied forces were halfway there already. The two men Thomas called up to crew the artillery took their positions, one was to sit in the seat and rotate the cannon, Thomas was going to fire it, and the third was going to reload it. He also gave orders for the rest of the forces, including the recent arrival of reinforcements, Command had sent them one hundred soldiers, and although it was weird because of his rank, Thomas was given command of this punitive force.


    Thomas divided the forces into two, one was the advance team and the other was support. Smoke grenades and other support equipment were given to the support team which consisted of some sixty soldiers. The advance team was given frag grenades, automatic weapons, flamethrowers, and any other offensive equipment for their assault on the bunkers and the rest of the artillery guns. Consisting of sixty-five soldiers, they were to assault the bunkers under the cover of smoke and supporting fire from the support team, it wasn''t the most flawless strategy, but it should result in fewer casualties. Soon it was just Thomas and crew, they didn''t need to fear any Germans sneaking up on them because they had methodically killed every single German they came across with the exception of those that surrendered at the naval barrage.


    Thomas turned to the task at hand, they had thirty-eight shells, so thirty-eight tries to zero in on the machine gun nests across the valley on the other ridge, failing that, they can always call in another naval barrage. So the distance across the valley was approximately eight hundred yards or two football fields, they needed to sight the cannon accordingly. The soldier in charge of rotation rotated the tilt of the gun and angled it upwards a few degrees to account for air resistance and bullet drop, the spotter called out the nearest MG nest, approximately eight hundred and seventy-two, the inclination was set, the cannon squealed as they rotated to the left on target. The loader rammed a shell home with a solid thunk and closed the breach, locking it so it wouldn''t blow open and eject the shell backward. They were set, Thomas hit the firing mechanism.


    There was a loud boom, followed by clanging sound as the spent shell was ejected out of the side of the cannon to land on the ground still steaming from the heat of being fired and ejected. The spotter looked through the binoculars, he could see the path the shell was taking, it struck two feet to the left of the Target, that was enough as limbs and blood haze flew and filled the air along with clumps of dirt as the shell exploded. There were secondary explosions as the ammo stored next the nest was enormous, most likely so they could fire most of the day without pause. First target was down, the other nests were confused, they thought the cannons on the opposite ridge had a misfire, they didn''t want to believe they were deliberately targeted.


    Thomas was given the next target, a small machine gun nest built into the ridge, better defended than the previous one they just blew up, it wouldn''t matter though, these shells will blow them up just the same. The inclination was adjusted, the cannon made a bunch of whirring and clanking sounds as it adjusted and locked into position. The new shell was rammed home and the breach was once again locked, ready to go. Thomas gave the order and pulled the firing mechanism, another thunk and loud explosion of sound, another empty shell. This time they missed and hit above the Target, luckily they were under an alcove that hadn''t been shored up. the entire thing collapsed on top of the crew and buried them alive in a whirl of mud and dust. Another crew down. Thomas frowned, he was a bit unhappy that they missed by that much, he took a look at the sighting mechanism, it was off by a few meters. He quickly adjusted it, it was off by half a meter now, it should be more accurate to measure it to yards, now they won''t be off by so much.


    The haze of the battlefield and the smell of gunpowder was nauseating and choking, to all but the most battle-hardened soldiers, such as Thomas. He ignored it, but one of the cannon crew was fresh out of boot camp and he was starting to tear up and cough. Thomas handed him his canteen, water was the best thing for that recruit, and time to adapt, of course. After a few minutes, the coughing subsided and the recruit had returned to his position, though that was now the least of their worries. Their targets on the other ridge took to cover and relocated their MG nests to better, more sheltered and reinforced positions. This time they only had a choice few spots to pick off, which they did so with the utmost haste, even eliminating those few nests and making the rest take cover enabled their allies to advance forward.


    Their work here was done, it was time to move on and join the rest of the company at the forward bunkers where the fighting was still fierce. Thomas hefted one of the compound explosives in his hand, they weren''t particularly heavy, it was just a five-pound block filled with chemicals that explode when introduced to fire. It also wasn''t particularly sticky, it had a very greasy feeling to his hand, but he knew it adhered to metal just fine. Thomas walked around to the front of the cannon and yelled for everyone to get back, he stuck the compound explosive just to the inside of the barrel and lit the fuse on it. He scrambled backward out of range. He turned around just in time to watch the front of the barrel explode outward in a small tongue of flame accompanied by a roar and the grinding of twisted metal. It was a glorious sight, he''ll remember this moment for a long time coming. He gathered his small crew and they marched through the trenches. Time to finish what they started.

 32 MCN: Patched and Geared Up

    When Thomas and his squad arrived at the bunker where the rest of the company was hunkered down at, they were greeted with enthusiasm. The bunker itself had several blackened scorch marks on it by the machine gun port, most likely from grenades. Several dead Germans lay on the ground, their corpses were freshly riddled with holes, still oozing blood, they had a lifeless blank stare on their faces. Thomas walked over and closed each of their eyes, every man deserved dignity even in death. The other soldiers saw what he did, and their admiration for him grew a little bit more, this was a man who respected friend and foe alike, such honor and compassion is rare.


    A soldier with the rank of Staff Sargeant walked quickly up to Thomas and gave a field report.


    "Sir! We''ve cleared this and the next two bunkers, we''ve also destroyed two more field guns, sir! Two casualties and ten wounded, sir!"


    "Acknowledged, carry on Staff Sargeant," Thomas replied.


    "Sir!" The Staff Sargeant turned upon his heel and strode away for whatever purpose he had in mind or was given before he made the field report. Thomas watched him walk off before sighing to himself, two more deaths, ten more wounded. This was getting more and more difficult, they were losing more troops with each bunker they took, there had to be a good way to do this. He did not like unnecessary sacrifices, though he could see they did attempt to conquer the bunker the same way he did. Speaking of conquering and dead people, he himself was wounded from that last action. Now that he noticed it, his arm did burn a little and kind of throbbed. He went to go find a field medic, why patch it up himself when he could let an expert do it?


    He found the field medic tending to the ten wounded soldiers, there was a strong smell of alcohol and antiseptic, almost like a hospital, if it were outdoors and also smelled like gunpowder and dead people. The ten wounded men had varying degrees of injuries with the least serious being clean through and through bullet wound, the nastiest being some poor bastard who had his arm severed. Looks like the field medic had his hands full, he had a couple of volunteered soldiers helping him out with basic and menial things he couldn''t be bothered to do. The medic took a quick uninterested look at Thomas before gesturing to an empty corner of his temporary triage field, which in reality was just a twenty square foot area laid down with tarps and a tarp covering above to ward off the rain so the wounded don''t get sick.


    Thomas cleared his throat once, the medic took a second glance before his eyes widened.


    "Sir!" The medic jumped to attention and saluted Thomas with much gusto. "Apologies for the disregard sir! I was not aware you were visiting the wounded sir!"


    Thomas waved his hand, it wasn''t really a big deal, everyone is as stressed as is, no need to pile on more. Especially since it seems he''s the only medic here. The medic quickly walked over to him and asked him to remove his uniform shirt, he needed to see how bad the wound was, considering at this point the blood was running down his arm in a thin line and dripping down into the mud in a swirl of rust-colored dirt. Thomas complied and removed his shirt, he was much more muscled than when he first entered the boot camp three months ago, his biceps alone were pretty chunky, almost as thick as a small log. Speaking of his biceps, there was a small round hole currently oozing blood, the medic turned his arm this way and that before he made his determination.


    "It''s not a clean wound, the bullet is still lodged inside, we have to take care of that immediately or infection will set in, come with me, sir." The medic waved him over and then he pulled a bunch of instruments out of a neatly rolled green matted tube that was on top of a nearby crate, doubtlessly taken from inside the bunker. There were surgical tools of all kinds, but the medic picked up a pair of forceps which he quickly doused in alcohol to sterilize. Then he doused Thomas''s wound, which sent fire through his nerves, it was almost like applying lemon juice to a papercut. A lot of blood was washed out of the wound along with some debris and fibers from the uniform. The medic took the forceps and entered the wound, it made a soft slithering sound as he prodded around for the bullet, Thomas winced a little bit, but it mostly caused him discomfort to feel the forceps poking around in his flesh. It felt like a cold, hard metal worm was slithering unforgivingly beneath his skin.


    The medic winced when he was digging around for the bullet and accidentally hit a cluster of nerves, Thomas gritted his teeth as fire shot through his shoulder. The pain burned and Thomas had the sudden realization that he was grateful that he didn''t have to be awake for the operation that saved his life. He most likely would have had to face a pain a thousand times worse than mere nerves being hit with forceps. After a minute or so of rummaging through Thomas''s arm, the medic finally found the bullet and pulled it out. It was a copper piece of metal that looked a bit smashed, not fully deformed, but it did look like it hit something really hard.


    "That was pretty much near your bone, lucky it didn''t break anything, but your shoulder is going to be sore for a while, sir." The medic finished diagnosing and treating Thomas. He patched up his shoulder with expert finesse as if he had done thing a thousand times. The gauze itself was stained red, but it wasn''t as bad as before, within a few minutes the bleeding had stabilized and the gauze was half red and half white.


    "Thanks, doc, what''s your name?" Thomas was curious, even though he knew this was a dream, he could probably find this man in the real world, and who knows, perhaps his skill will be just as good with real practice.


    "Arkady, sir. Justin Arkady." Medic Arkady replied.


    "Excellent, I will be sure to give a commendation to command about you," Thomas said. He never really planned to do so, but he did plan to find this man in the real world, after all, if he was time-phasing as they said he was, then this man should exist. He should also be careful not to sustain any more wounds, otherwise, he might really lie upon the operating table again. Thomas put his uniform back together and left the shade and cover of the medic''s field tent, back into the now down-pouring rain. He really hated Italy during this time, it was cold, wet, miserable, and smelled worse than the latrine after two days. He went off to find a reliable weapon and some ammunition, and he found a small sort of armory within the busted bunker. Apparently, the Germans didn''t have time to access it, but with a little bit of ingenuity and some explosive help, the Americans pried it open. There was a crew of two American Sergeants on duty within the armory, as soon as they saw Thomas they saluted and said, "sir!" There were many different weapons available, they had the Kar-98, MP-40, a couple of MG-32s, then there were some American weapons gathered from the fallen. M1-Garands, Thompson Sub-Machine Guns, a few Browning Automatic Rifles, there was even a Springfield M103 Sniper Rifle.


    Thomas chose a Thompson, the weight of it in his hands was comfortable, familiar. He took five magazines of ammunition for the Thompson, he also picked up more ammunition for his sidearm, which he then immediately reloaded, the spent magazine ejected to the floor with an audible clack sound. It felt good to be fully armed again, but just for good measure he took the Springfield and twenty bullets. The Springfield had to be loaded one bullet at a time, it technically holds five bullets, but if you load one into the chamber you can stretch it to six. He slung the rifle across his back, it had a nice shoulder strap which fit pretty comfortable and snug, the previous owner must not have been a big guy. The two sergeants saluted him as he walked off into the rain, they were almost done with this ridge.


    Soon enough, they''ll take the castle and this pass. Be it hell or highwater, the Germans were going to lose, Thomas would see to it, and then he could return back to the present.

 33 MCN: Taking the Final Bunkers

    Thomas gathered a few squads around himself, they were currently standing outside the captured German bunker, in the freezing cold rain. The sky overhead was dark and moody, flashes of thunder and lightning could be seen, casting a web of purple cracks in the sky. The soldiers who were gathered were wet and miserable, although morale wasn''t really low considering how far they''ve pushed, they were actually rather happy about the forthcoming battle. The sky got darker, it was going from day to night, pretty soon, no one would be able to see a thing.


    "All right men, listen up!" Thomas began his epic morale raising speech, his leadership skills were getting better. "This is it, the final push. You know what that means. Jerry is going to be desperate, they will use any means possible, they will try their damnedest to hold out. They will not succeed! We will not let them! Now, let''s go and kick some ass the American way!"


    Thomas charged down the trench line, his figure rapidly disappearing in the dark and the rain, briefly illuminated by flashes of lightning or thunder. The rest of the company charged after him, their faces filled with the savagery of a bloodied determination tainted by the promise of freedom and justice. It painted a fearsome image among the backdrop of the thunder and rain, akin to something out of a horror film more than a wartime battle. The thunder and sloshing of their boots repeatedly hitting the muddy ground beneath them gave rise to a terrifying sound to the Germans guarding the next bunker.


    Thomas tossed a couple of frag grenades ahead of him as he held his Thompson close, he waited for the explosion which briefly illuminated the rainy night in a blinding flash of orange, painted with mud and blood. He turned the corner and he quickly spied a couple of Germans getting to their feet, he shot them both with a couple of quick bursts, ammunition conservation was important. After all, he only had five magazines plus what he had already in the gun. The Germans quickly fell to the ground in bloody heaps, blood oozing out of the bullet holes, slowly mixing with the mud and rain.


    Thomas''s boot splashed down on the mixture, dispersing it as he surveyed the trenches before him. There was only one path before him, who knows what was down that path, but they had to go. Thomas waved forward his company, he took the lead because he believed like so many other greats before him that a leader should always lead from the front and by example. He charged down the trench, jumping over barely concealed tripwires briefly illuminated by the flashes of lightning and thunder. A few of the men behind him were not so lucky and with an audible twang, the trenches shook as an explosion rocked the area behind Thomas, throwing him forward, though he did manage to keep his balance and stay on his feet.


    Thomas finally cleared the trench area and came to an open sort of flat plateau, there were two bunkers and two sets of Pak-38s. Spotlights illuminated patches of the area, and all Thomas had to do was stay out of the light and he''d be able to get to the bunkers undetected. He raised his fist up for the men behind him, signaling them to come to a halt. He waved two fingers at the spotlights and motioned for them to follow his lead. The Pak-38s were going at full bore, their thunderous booms covering the sound of the men advancing in the dark and stormy night. There were some obstacles to take cover behind, such as crate stacks and barrels. For the most part, they managed to stay hidden, getting all the way to the bunker entrances, Thomas could practically hear the nervous breathing of the German manning the machine gun in front of the door, he couldn''t see him because he was underneath the port and out of sight. Thomas looked and the door was closed, they had to figure out how to get the door open. A sudden idea hit him, he motioned for smoke grenades and he had three other people, as well as himself, toss eight of them through the machine gun port.


    The German soldier looked down at his feet as the smoke grenades came bouncing through the port, he was shocked silly. Then the bunker began filling with smoke, so much smoke that you couldn''t see anywhere inside and it poured to the outside as if something was burning inside. The door to the bunker came open and a few Germans stumbled out coughing and trying to clear their eyes. Thomas and the troops unloaded on them, they quickly fell and the whole company rushed into the bunkers, hoping they were the last. They quickly moved room to room, clearing them of German infantry. Blood splashed the walls and the floors, dead bodies hit the ground with a dull thud, everything was chaos, and amidst it all, surprisingly, there were no American or French casualties. The smell of gunpowder and the iron stench of blood was heavy in the air as they finished clearing both bunkers. Luck would have it that the Germans connected both of them, overall they had fought about a company-sized element of German soldiers. On top of that, mopping up the Germans manning the last two Pak-38s outside also proved to be of little to no difficulty. One of the French soldiers got shot in the shoulder, it broke his bone and disabled him probably for the next few months.


    Thomas surveyed the ridge, they had done a fine job. They started out with a little over a hundred troops, they finally ended up with sixty-three functional troops with twelve wounded and twenty-five dead. It wasn''t a bad trade, especially with Thomas''s leadership guiding the men. They had an overwhelming advantage since Thomas could utilize his past life and all of the tricks he had learned, especially some of the more unorthodox tactics they had employed. Thomas motioned for a radioman, it was time to let command know.


    "Command, this is Master Sergeant Thomas Conlin reporting in, we have the ridge. I repeat, we have the ridge." Thomas reported.


    "Good work, do you still have any functional PAK-38s on the ridge?" Command appeared to have some sort of strategy in mind.


    "Sir, we have two undestroyed fields guns, a small number of mortars found in an armory."


    "Excellent, begin a fire support mission to cover the advance of the Seventy-Sixth, and the One-Oh-Five as they advanced on Monte Cassino. The other ridge has already been cleared by American and British forces. Over."


    "Acknowledged, Command. Conlin over and out." Thomas called the company over after handing the radio back to the radioman.


    "Alright men, listen up, I want the most experienced men to man those two Pak-38s, we have a fire support mission for the Seventy-Sixth and the One-Oh-Five. Everyone else, mortars and ammunition, let''s go. Radioman stays with me, we''ll call the big guns as needed, this may not turn into an infantry only battle."


    The company got to work, this was it, the final battle. God willing they would be victorious and live to see another day.

 34 MCN: Fire Support Mission

    Thomas and his company were pretty upset about being delegated to fire support, there really wasn''t much to fire at except the castle and who knows how that would turn out. Perhaps all this downtime wasn''t so bad either, the men did need a good rest and this gave the wounded the chance to rest and recover. Although that would be pretty difficult considering the circumstances they were currently in, the weather wasn''t really ideal for rest and recovery.


    Thomas spent this time quickly moving among the fallen, scavenging arms and ammunition. Some of the weapons needed a really thorough cleaning, their insides collecting mud and rain quickly. He set a few of the soldiers sitting inside the bunker to cleaning the weapons, they might need them sooner or later. He found several hundred rounds of ammunition amongst the dead. He added them to the several thousand rounds that were already in the armory inside the bunker, they could hold against a counter-attack if need be.


    Thomas had some time to himself after he had done all he could in terms of preparation. He rested inside the bunker on an unoccupied bunk, someone had come through and cleaned the gore and blood off the floor, but there was still some on the walls. It is a grim reminder of what happened here, a tale most tragic. As he sat on the bunk he took a good look at all the other soldiers in the room. Some of them had upended the table that had been kicked down during the battle, although it had bullet holes in it, it still made for a decent table to play cards on. The smart ones were laying down on bunks sleeping while they could sleep.


    Thomas was pondering his fate and perhaps how he could go back to his own timeline after this Monte Cassino bit was done. In fact, he had nearly forgotten that for him, this wasn''t real. He''d fight and survive this battle only to end up going back to his timeline to fight an even bigger battle. A battle that could not be won with words or guns. The only way to win such a battle was to show results and there was more than one way to show the results they wanted to see. Not all of them were particularly pleasant for Thomas. Thomas wondered about Doctor Elaine as well, shortly before he came here, was she really promising him more or was he seeing something that wasn''t there?


    Thomas sighed to himself, he hadn''t been with a woman for a long time, the women of Africa did not appeal to Thomas, nor were there any women to be had in Italy. Occasionally he''d get shipped back to the states for some R and R, but those were rare days in the Army. He spent those ones with his family. Speaking of his family, Thomas really missed them. Before he died, he had two brothers, one elder, one younger, and a little sister. Both of his brothers perished during the war, his elder brother was part of a tank crew. They had one of the good old Shermans, probably the worst piece of shit the military ever cooked up, but boy was it really fast. During the Africa campaign, Thomas learned that his brother Jonathan''s tank took a hit from a Panzer and exploded after it detonated the ammunition racks. Of course, there weren''t going to be any survivors from an explosion like that. It would be nigh on impossible, they gave Thomas the option to go home and grieve his brother, but Thomas knew he couldn''t go back. Not if he wanted to honor his brother.


    Just as Thomas was going to muse further, a soldier burst into the bunk room.


    "Master Sergeant Conlin, sir!" The soldier was drenched from head to toe in rainwater, it pretty much cascaded down his helmet. Thomas bolted upright, he never even noticed that he had fallen asleep while musing about his life. Thomas looked at the soldier, he was a fairly young man. He barely had stubble on his face, he hadn''t been growing facial hair very long or it just doesn''t grow, but judging by the soldier''s youthful look, he was pretty indisposed to think of the former. There was a scar running across the bridge of his nose, looked like he acquired it a couple years ago. On top of that were a determined set of eyes, maybe a little bit haunted as well. Thomas could almost guess that this young man was involved in a mission that took out most, if not his entire squad and left him with a daily reminder on top of that.


    "What is it, soldier?" Thomas queried.


    "Sir! Command states they have new targets available for tasking! German reinforcements inbound!" The young man saluted. Thomas was instantly wide awake.


    "I want everyone on full alert! Not a single man idle! On the double!" Thomas began shouting and rousing the soldiers. It was time to fight, and they were going to bring the pain to the Germans. Shouts could be heard inside and outside the bunker as well as the sound of people rushing here and there. The armory was cleaned of ammunition as it was sent to the various posts that they had set up after taking the bunker. Thomas walked out into the rain, it was worse than before if that was even possible. Now it seemed like a dim haze. The rain was so intense and sheet like that if it weren''t for the illumination by thunder and lightning, you wouldn''t be able to see two feet in front of you. Someone was kind and smart enough to set up a guiding light system in which you can follow various lights to get to places. Thomas went to the forward observation post by the two Pak-88s they had secured.


    Thomas found the radioman there when he arrived at the forward observation post. He was currently taking shelter under a makeshift tent he propped over the radio so it wouldn''t short out in the rain, they were made to be resilient against hard wear and tear, but you never know. The radioman saw Thomas and stood to salute. There were protocols against such a thing on the battlefield but in this rainstorm, it really wouldn''t matter.


    "Sir! Command reports a sizeable German reinforcement coming from beyond the Monte Cassino castle, the report includes a small armored column as well as two hundred plus ground troops. They have Panzer Three and Fours as well as two Tigers! We''ve been sent orders to be on hand for available tasking! The fleet is busy engaging in a fight with German remnants and a sub, sir!"


    "Acknowledged, we''ll be ready for it." Thomas gave the radioman a thoughtful look, tonight was going to be one busy night.


    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    "Alright listen up!" Private Quincy Ashton paid resolute attention to his sergeant as he laid the groundwork for this assault. He liked his sergeant, the man was fierce and capable. Sergeant Guthook he was called, no one really knew his real name. Guthook was something he had earned in the initial campaigns in Africa. He heard it had to do something with a fishhook or something that the locals used to gut the fish they caught at the oasis.


    "Jerry thinks he can hide up in his castle all safe and cozy! We''re going to teach them a lesson in how wrong they are!" Sergeant Guthook pointed at the castle in the distance that was briefly illuminated in flashes of thunder and lightning. It seemed more menacing and frightening in the dark, almost foreboding. "The plan is as follows, we are to link up with Squads Apple and Baker, the three of us are going to form a small company and our job is to find a side or rear entrance into the castle and ambush them while the main companies made of Charlie, Echo, Dog, and Fox assault the main courtyard. Hopefully, they won''t know what hit them! Gather your gear, check your equipment, assault time in five, dismissed!"


    Private Quincy double checked his gear and ammunition, he carried a standard M1 Garand Rifle just like most of his cohort. He had enough, well magazines weren''t really the aptest description, since the M1 Garand wasn''t magazine fed, but instead the bullets, of which there were eight, were part of a clip strip that you inserted at the top of the rifle in the chamber. Once the clip was spent it would be ejected from the top automatically and a new one could be inserted. He carried eight clips on him, plus the three magazines for his sidearm. Just like every other soldier here, he carried a Colt M1911 standard forty-five. It packed a punch and was very reliable, durable too. He made his equipment check and joined up with the rest of his squad. There were a total of five people not including Sergeant Guthook. There was Finch, Adams, McCoy, O''Leary, and Bryan. Together with himself and the sarge, they made up an atypical seven-man squad.


    After forming up, they gathered with Apple and Baker, two standard squads of six with standard men. In total, they had nineteen men all armed to the teeth and every man was given a grappling hook. It was in the darkness that they slinked over to the castle amidst the hail of gunfire, shouts, screams, and smoke. Under the cover of rain and darkness, they found what they were looking for. On the second floor, a wall had crumbled leaving the perfect space for grappling. Three of the men swung their hooks and tossed their grappling hooks, two latched on perfectly and the third bounced off. After another try, it was successful and latched on between some pieces of rubble still attached to the wall. Apple and Baker ascended on the three hooks while Sergeant Guthook and his squad circled around the back looking for another entrance, they found one on the back corner, a ruined tower provided ample access to the fourth floor. It was easy as one, two, three for this squad of seemingly elite troops to get the grapple on the first hook. Seconds later they are all ascending quietly to the fourth floor, on the way up they encountered a guard, but they quickly shot him. The sound of their guns was hidden by the din of fighting and the loud rumbling of the skies.


    On the fourth floor, they kicked their grappling hooks off, no need to let any passing patrolmen know they were here. It was in total silence with hand communication and signals that they swept through the fourth floor, they found a couple of important communiques in a stack of paper in what appeared to be an officer''s quarters. They stashed them quickly as well as any plans or blueprints they came across. Having swept the fourth floor and killing any guards they came across, they proceeded upwards. Nevermind what Apple and Baker were up to, that wasn''t what they were personally here for. On the fifth floor, they silence a couple of guards close up with knives. Private Quincy personally silenced one, he felt the cold edge of the blade enter the man''s neck and sever his arteries, the blood spraying on to the hand he had covering his mouth was so warm in this cold and desolate night. It was a scene that he would personally remember for the rest of his life. How the young guard whose face he never even saw slipped through his hands, lifeless and gurgling his last as the blood just kept pouring from his neck. Just like that, he was dead, and Quincy had felt his first stealth kill reverberate through his being, a sacred and ancient ritual of blood and death. An affirmation to the soldier he is.


    They moved on, the moment was gone, but Qunicy would always remember it. They found nothing on the fifth floor that would indicate a plan of some kind. The only way up was the roof, which compared to going back down to the third floor was much better. After all, the third floor downwards was filled with Americans and German Paratroopers fighting room to room. So up they went onwards to the roof. On top of the roof, they found two Pak-38s and of course some ammunition for it. They were pointed towards the front of the castle, but it looks like no one ever got to use them in this fight, or they were abandoned when the ridge got taken. Moving across to the back of the castle, they could see a cloud of dust and haze illuminated by thunder on the horizon. Sergeant Guthook took out a pair of binoculars and handed them to Quincy. Quincy had the best eyesight out of all of them and could see much farther in this perpetual darkness.


    Upon viewing through the binoculars, Quincy discovered an armored column headed their way, German markings painted on the side, followed by scores of trucks, most likely filled with German troops. Someone had ordered reinforcements, either at the beginning of the fight or much earlier when they lost the ridge. Either way, Command had to be notified, the question was how could they do so. They rummaged through the equipment they brought, Adams had some flares and O''Leary had some red smoke, that could work. If combined with one of the Pak-38s they could create a colored fire that would alert command that something was up. After all, red was the signal for an emergency. Finch had the explosive expertise, they allowed him to jury-rig the Pak-38, after a few minutes he was finished, unless you were looking at it, you couldn''t tell it had been messed with. Unfortunately, none of them brought any detonator wire or fuses with them, so with the exception of Quincy, who was their eyes, they all drew sticks. McCoy drew the short stick, they all saluted him as he saluted back. McCoy walked up to the Pak-38 and triggered the firing sequence. The Pak-38 exploded in a fireball of red that lit up the night with the help of the flare, red smoke visibly poured into the air, visible to everyone.


    Someone reported the phenomenon to Command. Command then affirmed the existence of commandos in the area and sent someone to find out what the fuss was all about. Someone reported the German Armor inbound, someone else confirmed the report. The commando squad on the roof had completed their mission successfully, everything was up to Thomas and his crew. After all, the Pak-88s packed a bigger punch and had a longer range than the PAK-38s, even though both were technically anti-armor field guns.


    When the coordinates were received, Thomas and his crew set the Pak-88s to work. Their mechanical whines and clashing gears were a comforting sound to the men who crewed them. The field mortars that were set up were quite useless as even though they were on the ridge, did not have enough range to reach the column.


    "Coordinates One-Sierra-Nine-Nine-Two-Five received."


    The artillery was adjusted accordingly with an error margin of one hundred meters according to the German metric they had to use. A shell was loaded, the breach was closed, they awaited their orders.


    "Fire at will," Thomas commanded, and then the world went dark around him.

 35 Back to Reality

    Thomas awoke strapped to a cold and unforgiving metal gurney. The first sounds he heard upon waking to the sight of the white tiled ceiling above was the excited and hushed whispers of the three doctors who had just not too long ago sent him into the battlefield. They were discussing the nature of what they deemed as the experiment two days ago. It was at that moment that Thomas realized that everything had happened two days ago, Monte Cassino, the experiment that led to Monte Cassino, all of it. He pretended to listen in and what he heard gave him quite the shock.


    "So we''ve agreed on what we think is the most likely cause of these jumps into the alternate timeline?" Doctor Katz was the first to chime up.


    "Absolutely, it makes sense. Well as much sense as this whole thing can bring anyways." Doctor Elaine was the second and she agreed with Doctor Katz.


    "Well, I''m just an expert in computers, as I''ve taken to calling the machine. I haven''t the foggiest idea of what you''re all going on about." Doctor Turing sounded really confused about it all.


    "Alan, listen. The main point of all of this is that when Thomas enters this state of phasing. He''s literally phasing back into his own timeline. It may be at the behest of Kincaide, but that''s what we''ve agreed is happening. Now as far as Kincaide himself is concerned, we think that every time Thomas phases into his original timeline, for a brief moment Kincaide is also there. The window we think is appropriate given what we know is that Thomas would have one to two hours tops to find and kill Kincaide. Killing Kincaide would sort out this mess almost immediately." Doctor Elaine paused for a moment, a cherry red smile appearing upon her fair face.


    "Captain Conlin, I think it''s about time you stopped pretending to be asleep, don''t you?"


    The question jolted Thomas, he had the most surprised look upon his face. He tried to deepen his breathing in order to appear he was asleep, but it seems he had been caught by the good doctor.


    "Can someone please get me off this table? It''s cold, and between the four of us, I think I''ve had enough fo the cold for a little bit." It was at this moment that Thomas remembered that they couldn''t possibly know it was cold and raining on the battlefield. Wait, Thomas just realized that he also had no clothes on, where did they go?


    "We had to get you out of those rags you were wearing, you were positively soaked," Doctor Elaine explained before he could ask. "Also, no need to be embarrassed, it''s nothing I haven''t seen before." She laughed at his misfortune and Thomas remembered that she previously spent fourteen hours putting him back together before.


    "Not to worry, you will be off that table soon, we are just waiting on some test results first." Alan was quick to chime in and ease his discomfort.


    "Test results?" Thomas was confused, he was not aware of any tests, maybe they had done something to him while he was under.


    "Yes, when we received the only printout, that''s what I am calling the page received from the machine hooked up to the computer I made, Doctor Katz here noticed some....peculiarities," Alan informed. Thomas was even more confused at the familiar terminology, the words were foreign, but they were not. Most likely to do with Kincaide, he had no time to wrap his head around it, he tossed the thoughts and feelings aside. Doctor Katz then interjected, explaining his findings.


    "Yes, I have found quite a few irregularities. First of all, your Cerebellum lit up like a Christmas tree just before you started time phasing, which seems to suggest that eventually, you may be able to control your phasing. We do not know much about the human brain, we have not made too many advanced studies, but in here, I can do anything I wish as long as it gets results and doesn''t kill you. So I tinkered a bit, and well ahead of our time, if my studies ever find the light, I have discovered that the Cerebellum, is related closely to the automatic control of the motor functions, it also has an as of yet unknown correlation with the perception of time. I do not have enough information to form a theory, but perhaps the Cerebellum is utilizing the perception of time and your motor functions to form a gateway back to your original timeline at random intervals. This is what I have surmised, and as soon as we get the paperwork back from the experiment I did yesterday, we will have our answer."


    Thomas found the whole explanation to be informative and useful. Doctor Katz had explained it in such a way that even he might understand it because he definitely did not have a medical background. As he was explaining something a whirring sound in the corner of the room caught Thomas''s attention and he craned his head to the left as far as the restraint would let him. He caught a glimpse of the room he was in as he did so. By medical standards it certainly was cozy, there was a couch on the side of the room he was looking at, it had a small carpeted area underneath it. Next to the couch was a desk with a basic office chair, the desk itself looked like it had been heavily reinforced. On and underneath the desk were various machines all hooked up to a big fat box with words scrolling across it. All of this was set against a regular wall, while the floor itself was made of wood. It looked like a regular doctor''s office.


    "It''s ready!" Doctor Katz exclaimed, and he walked over to the machine with great strides. He took the piece of paper and started to examine it. Doctor Katz immediately frowned, Thomas could already see the wheels churning in his head. He turned to Thomas and shook his head.


    "It is just as we suspected, and maybe a little more. The results..." his voice trailed off before he steeled his jaw and looked at Thomas resolutely. "You must be ready for the most painful time of your life, this all rides on you, and when we finish, you will be a man of two times, able to freely control the fate and destiny of two worlds. Well, at the very least, able to move between this time and your original time at will. You have no choice anymore Thomas, we had hoped it wouldn''t come down to this." Doctor Katz turned to the other two doctors and nodded his head.


    "We could only do this. Time to inform the Major General, we are moving forward with Operation Time Leap."

 36 VALOR

    Major General Alexander Hughes sat in his office in the restricted facility in the Mojave Desert known colloquially as Area Two. It had a much longer name at one point, but no one could ever remember it and since they needed to put something to paper it became Area Two. He sighed and looked around his spartan office, there really wasn''t much in there. He sat in a rather comfortable and luxurious leather chair in front of an oakwood desk which he had brought from his house in Hawaii, it was his grandfather''s and he loved it dearly. On his desk were some neatly stacked and arranged papers and folders. Around the rather small room he called his office, there were exactly two pieces of furniture; another chair and a couch. He often took a nap or slept on the couch, especially as of lately. There was just too much to do and not enough time, manpower, or resources.


    He sighed and rubbed his temple, what he wouldn''t do for a vacation. He waved a gnarled and somewhat old hand through his short-cropped gray hair, it was almost time to see the barber again. He turned his attention to the folders in front of him. There were exactly four manilla folders of different thickness, depending on how much paper was inside them of course. One of them was very familiar and titled, "PROJECT KINGMAKER", while another one was titled "OPERATION TIME LEAP". They were his main concerns for the moment because like it or not, everything was riding on these two plans being a success. Should they succeed, not only would they be the first ones in history to discover countless medical secrets and time-related theories, but this would literally put the entire country ahead of the world for decades to come.


    Hughes glanced at the other two folders, they too would play an important role. Just recently the third and fourth one was given to him to preside over, though he had to work with his least favorite person. It didn''t bother him much because it was a worthwhile sacrifice. He thumbed a particularly thick folder, stamped in red was the word APPROVED. There was no name on the cover, it was as if it officially exist, which for the record, it didn''t. Then he swiped a palm against the other folder, it was also stamped with the same word, but this one had a title on it. A title is a bit much, it really only had one word. VALOR was scrawled on it in an orderly and neat fashion, large enough to be of interest and catch the eye from a distance.


    He thumbed it open, he knew who it was written by, of course. How could anyone not, that overly feminine but neat and concise hand-writing on the front, it could only be Alan Turing. All three of those egg-heads cooked up this little toy, which would supposedly give Thomas a bleeding edge advantage in his fight between realities. It was something only he could use. He looked at the phone on his desk and then he picked it up and rotated the dials on it. A man on the other side picked up the line.


    "Yes, sir?"


    "Jacob, do me a favor and bring me some coffee; you know the way I like it."


    "Right away, sir!"


    Hughes put the phone down and waited. A couple of minutes later a well-dressed guard in his dress uniform walked in, he was on the older side, not as old as Hughes though. He had the average face you''d see around town. The straight and slightly pointed nose, brown eyes, somewhat thick eyebrows. No matter which angle you viewed him from, he looked pretty ordinary. He set down coffee that looked like the blackest drink anyone could ever have. He threw a quick salute to Hughes and marched out of his office, the salute wasn''t necessary between old friends, but Jacob was a soldier through and through.


    Hughes took a sip of the coffee, it was very bitter much like most of his military career, but he could still swallow it. He wallowed in the taste, a man drank his coffee black, but he was more than a man. He was a king among soldiers and he drank directly from the void. After having his soul distilled by coffee he felt better focused and picked up the folder titled VALOR. He opened it up and read all of the information inside of it.


    VALOR


    PROJECT CODENAMED: VALOR; EYES ONLY, DESTROY AFTER USE


    Valor is the codenamed project designed and headed by Alan Turing, Bernard Katz, and Elaine Schubert respectively. It is the designated name for A1944-M1 Mobility Enhancing Auto-Target Armor System respectively code-named VALOR MK I.


    Suitable Candidates for use: Thomas Conlin, Samuel Jacob (testing purposes only).


    The functionality of the armor system is to use dynamic servos developed by Elaine Schubert and Bernard Katz to increase wearer leg and arm speed and strength mechanically. The computerized system enclosed in the back casing developed by Alan Turing and company is designed to link up with the helmet and allow for advanced targeting and aiming assist with the use of the arm servos to eliminate shaking and absorb recoil. The user can run up to twenty miles per hour with bursts up to twenty-five for five seconds at ten-minute intervals. Newly designed ballistic gel and plating by REDACTED increase impact resistance and block calibers less than .308 or 30-06. A successful round of testing has been conducted at REDACTED and approved by REDACTED. Plan to be implemented no later than December 7th, 1941.


    Hughes looked at the following diagrams and schematics, while he noted that the armor system was fully enclosed, the big square box on the back looked quite heavy. The helmet was streamlined and looked more like an armored mask than anything else. It was slimmed and toned down to reduce as much weight as possible, they used a newly developed material for the armor. It looked more like a suit to fit the wearer it was made for than an armor system, but then he noticed certain parts of the "suit" were a little bulkier than others, especially along the legs and arms. Though he did note that other diagrams have shown that these stiff looking parts are actually quite flexible. Overall it would be quite interesting to see what those eggheads had cooked up.


    Major General Hughes was now interested in what would become of this armor system, after all, Thomas is just a man. He''s no Captain Marvel, as much as these scientists would like to make him out to be. What was with this date as well? It was only two weeks away and it seems that it also coincided with the date at which he was supposed to solve this phasing problem. The higher echelon really enjoyed making things hard, well after all they only want results. He looked at the other folders, time to get his hands dirty.


    AUTHOR''S NOTE EXPANDED:


    Another day, another chapter! Thank you to everyone who continues to vote for my novel! We are so close to breaking into the top 200! Let''s go! Only 40 more votes to reach the top 150!


    Also, this novel took a bit of a turn, didn''t it? Don''t worry, this all plays into the next novel. I''m not finished with this yet, but a lot of stuff in here is prototypes for the real toys.


    As always keep voting, I will also read and respond to your comments and reviews as I see them! Don''t be afraid to add me on Discord or FB Messenger! The link is on my profile! :D Soon I will be creating a page you can follow on Facebook which will allow you to keep up to date with chapter releases as soon as they come out! Spread the word and let your friends know about this novel!


    Big thanks to everyone who has stuck with me since day one! Especially to my top three voters, I see you guys vote every day and it really makes me happy! Thanks again all of you :)

 37 Files and Inspections

    Major General Hughes sat in his office looking at the other three folders, having just put the one titled VALOR down. He had three more to go through and the other one he really knew the most about was PROJECT KINGMAKER, after all, that was his project and it will most likely see him promoted to General. It was his fondest wish to be promoted to General, he loved this country dearly. He remembered when he first joined the military thirty years ago, technically speaking he should have retired ten years ago, but he loved this job too damn much.


    When he first learned of Thomas, command wanted to dissect him and figure out what makes him tick. Major General Highes along with General Eisenhower convinced President Roosevelt otherwise, that Thomas could be cured and of use. The plans they have lain were ambitious enough, but ASCENSION takes the goddamn cake. Joint project between Hughes division and the Black Ops eggheads over at the Office of Strategic Services, ASCENSION was meant to genetically boost the capability of a few handpicked soldiers.


    Of course, the soldiers that were hand-picked all had the right genetic markers and technically they weren''t supposed to be experimenting on humans, but if it made anyone feel better, it was all thoroughly examined from every angle and simulated.


    The way it worked was very simple, or very complicated. The men with the right genetic markers would be picked to undergo a genetic therapy that would make them more than human. These genetic injectors would super charge their bodies, changing them from the genetic scale. One was designed to enhance the skeletal musculature, increasing and hardening their bone densities. Theoretically, it would take being crushed by car to crack a single bone.


    Another of the genetic enhancers would increase muscle mass and flexibility, therefore the proposed effect would be an overall increase in muscular strength allowing the lifting of objects as heavy as a small car, theoretically that is.


    There was a third enhancer that was supposed to enhance vision and reflexes, but they hadn''t quite figured that one out. ASCENSION isn''t any good without all three of the genetic enhancers, so they had to get him in on the project to make free use of his staff to help fit the pieces together. Major General Hughes wasn''t all that concerned about it, it''s pretty much a win-win scenario for him either way. As long as they could figure out how to get Thomas to control his own power, they would be able to make a man of two realities. A useful tool, but also unpredictable, there is no telling what kind of changes they will be accidentally cause just because Thomas couldn''t control his powers yet. That''s where all the problems lie, two theories gone down the drain and only a week left to solve it.


    Hughes took a sip of his coffee, it was the same black sludge he always drank, no cream or sugar, he didn''t like the sweet stuff much plus his life was just as bitter as his coffee. He sighed in appreciation for the good coffee, then he looked at his watch. Time to go. With that thought in mind he gathered up all the papers and stashed them in a secret locked compartment under his desk where no one would ever find them. He was after all, a simple man with dangerous secrets, that needed to be secretly kept.


    He walked out of his office and locked the door behind himself, not that anyone was going to just waltz right in, he always had two guards standing duty at all times. Speaking of, he turned towards the two guards that were posted to either side of his office door.


    "No one in or out, you know the drill."


    "Sir! Yes, sir!" The two guards saluted him in unison before returning to their statue-like state of attention. They had expressions of stone etched on their faces, unfeeling, detached, emotionless stares of duty as they looked forward towards the wall. If you watched long enough their eyes would flit to the corners as they looked down both sides of the hallway while staring straight ahead. He crossed a few thresholds as he visited a few places to ensure the success of the current ongoing projects. He made a stop at the Experimentals Test Labs, they were currently working out the kinks to the VALOR suit, it was only partially assembled as they were testing gyros and gears, making sure they worked properly. One of the scientists even had the gauntlet on his hand and was flexing the fingers and stress testing it, of course it was also held up by the stand it sits on, after all, none of these scientists were even remotely capable of wielding the VALOR MK I, that''s what ASCENSION was for. ASCENSION and VALOR are compliments of each other, you cannot have one without the other. The scientists looked up to see who entered the lab, when they saw it was the Major General they all stopped their work to pay attention to him.


    "Carry on, carry on. Just here to see how it''s all coming together." Hughes waved his hand casually, the scientists all resume their work. As Hughes left he took one last glance at their small workshop,it wasn''t really all that large, just enough for the scientists and all their calibration machinery, in the corner he could see that Alan Tucker had given them a computer to work with, it was running simple calculations. He closed the door behind him as he left.


    He walked down the corridor and turned left at an intersection, then he continued on to the Genetics Labs, they were much larger than theExperimentals Test Labs by quite a lot, if you didn''t count the testing room itself. Here there were only three or four scientists working, not counting Doctors Elaine and Bernard when they were free or it was critical. Hughes had to put on some scrubs and sanitize himself before he was allowed to even enter the lab, it had to be a sterile environment of course.He checked on the scientists with their microscopes and other tools, which took up only a quarter of the fifty square foot room. Their were refrigerators and freezers for test samples and whatnot as well. He didn''t understand much of the science mumbo jumbo that went on in here, but inspections were part of the job detail so, he had to listen to the lead scientist talk about nucleotides and cell recombinants as if he had a clue what they were talking about. Bottom line is they were no closer to solving the third genetic serum than they were last week. Hughes said his farewells and left the sterile lab that smelled like pure alcohol alone as he made his way to his final stop, the medical bay. He had to see how his star soldier was coming along after all. Everything was riding on Thomas. Thomas was the lynchpin of their success, if Thomas succeeds, Highes could definitely look at more than just a promotion, he was going to make history.


    AUTHOR''S THOUGHTS:


    Hey guys! I''m back! Miss me? Finally got this to work on my phone so I finished this chapter, expect one daily now that I write on my phone. May be more grammar mistakes, phone isn''t grammar friendly hahaha! Thanks to all who kept supporting me, maybe I will do a mass release soon ;)


    Oh yes, please go back and read chapter one, I finished editing the crap out of it.

 38 Operation Time Leap

    "Again!" Major General Hughes shouted from the protective booth he and the three main scientists were watching Thomas from. Thomas who was breathing heavily with sweat covering his body had tumbled to the floor for the fifteenth time as he tried different ways to activate his time passing ability with his cerebellum. He was in a giant, open lab that was reinforced from floor to ceiling in a newer compound metal that was stronger than the medical room he had been in. It gave the room a glossy purple sheen, it was actually kind of pretty. He had no time to think about the metal compound though, he needed to master this power before the end of the week and the clock was ticking.


    Thomas got to his feet, a little sad he had to leave the cold floor, it felt nice on his hot body, and assumed the awkward position they had him in before. He had his right extended forward and he was in a lunge position with both arms out past his back, palms open and facing the ceiling. He thought he looked utterly ridiculous, but that was the point, he needed to elicit strong emotions in order to jumpstart the process. Or at least that''s what the scientists conjectured, they learned through scanning his brain with the weird types of machines they keep making that he was restless and almost nightmarish in his sleep. He usually peaks out when he enters his phase with Kincaid at the helm, the fear and distress practically jumps on the charts. Thomas didn''t feel that was right, but what did he know, he wasn''t a scientist. He was a soldier and his gut was telling him that this was not the way to go.


    "Go!"


    At the Major General''s command, Thomas began running around the room with his arms flailing behind him, his body bent forward. It really was embarrassing. It was so embarrassing that if he even thought they had one of those new video cameras to record him he would definitely try to just end it all, damn the whole war. After doing this for about fifteen minutes he could feel super hot and then came a most mysterious feeling.He felt air running across his hand, brought his right arm around and looked at his hand, there was a small glowing ball of green air currents in it. It suddenly yanked him forward and he yelled out in surprise as it promptly threw him five feet in the air before dissipating. He landed on his ass and it hurt a lot, but he didn''t break anything so that''s a good sign. Up in the booth, Elaine, Bernard, and Alan were discussing why nothing they''ve tried so far works.


    "As funny as it was to see him do that, it really didn''t work. We''re scratching the bottom of the barrel here." Elaine said, her husky voice was very alluring, especially when given that her face was a perfect match for it. She had full lips which were currently pulled into a frown, combine that with her naturally thin eyebrows and deep-set sapphire eyes, she was a beautiful woman. Of course, the men present, with the exception of Thomas, were not the target of her interest.


    "She''s right, it seems as if we are missing some sort of catalyst. Something that jump-starts the process and gets the right gears in motion." Doctor Katz had a thoughtful look upon his face. He was normally clean shaven, but after two weeks of non-stop testing and excitement, he had a small beard upon his face, it accentuated his green eyes and black hair."Maybe we need to inflict a more extreme sort of stress upon him, how we would do this is unknown. Perhaps we should try putting him through combat stress, it might actually be the key," Katz suggested.


    "No, no that won''t work." Alan was skeptical, his nose wrinkled in a slight frown.


    "Why not?" Doctor Katz demanded to know.


    "The reason being, he''s probably numb to the whole idea and process and combat now. In just a short time, he''s been pulled into two episodes while he''s been here. Not to mention, it seems there is more information than he has told us, I suspect he still has memories of his previous existence." Alan''s argument was clear-cut and left Bernard no room to counter it. Elaine watched this squabble with feigned interest, she too was trying to think of a way to activate the time phasing power that Thomas has, without first being activated by Kincaide. Kincaide as far as they know is the reason why Thomas keeps getting pulled into these time shifts, but Elaine suspects, it''s not the real reason. Or at the very least, only part of the equation.


    "Thomas, you can take a beak, we''ve got to go back to the drawing board on this one, come back in a few hours." The voice on the intercom came out loud and clear to Thomas''s ears. Normally there would be protocol indicating that they should call him by his rank followed by his last name, but most everyone here was intimately familiar with each other by now. They have all been working together now for a little over two months, in fact, next week will be the first week of December. Thomas knew that the seventh of December would be the Japanese surprise attack on Pearl Harbor, however, thanks to all of the new technology that''s been trading hands of late, would Pearl Harbor still even occur? He didn''t have the answers to that right now, nor did he have the inclination to tell his superior about an event that has most likely changed. Right now all that mattered was getting this phase-shift problem out of the way. Even if he somehow prevented Pearl Harbor, he needed Pearl Harbor to exist so that the United States would have a reason to enter the war.


    Thomas walked out of the testing lab, over the past couple weeks he had gotten familiar with the entire complex, and his rank, as well as his unique identity, afforded him clearance access to all but the most sensitive parts of the facility. He was in the experimental labs and medical facilities part of the complex. This was the part of the facilities that housed most of the armored test rooms and research and development labs, as Thomas came to understand it, this was all black box funding. As Major General Hughes had explained it to him, only a few members of the Senate and the President knew of all of this. Black box funding was off the official expenditures listing that they publicly release, mostly because of the sensitive nature of what is being funded.


    Thomas reached a corner and after he turned he found where he wanted to be. The complex Gymnasium, he always liked to come here after those sessions with the doctors. After all, he needed to gain more muscle and stay fit, how else was he supposed to maintain his advantage on the field if he didn''t do this and a few other daily things. Normally he''d have paperwork to do if this was a normal unit or division with reports to file. but not here. Hughes filed all the paperwork because of how sensitive the information was. So he had plenty of free time to develop his skills and his body, after all, this body wasn''t used to the same rigors as his old one from his previous life. Upon reaching the Gymnasium he found a group of soldiers exiting it, sweat covered their bodies as they were comparing how many repetitions each man did. Upon seeing him they stood still and saluted.


    "Sir!" They said in unison, standing stock still in the white hallway with its bright lights.


    "Carry on troops, you''re doing good work," Thomas replied as he lazily returned the salute. He really meant what he said, if only he could encourage more soldiers to work out, everyone would be stronger and tougher. That''s what it was all about, becoming strong to survive the upcoming war. Thomas entered the Gym, he had plenty of time today, perhaps he could get some practice in the shooting range as well. Anyone passing by the Gym could hear the Captain giving his all, everyone knew the grunts coming from the Gym were him using the maximum amount of weight he could handle, he liked to push himself. Inside the gym, Thomas was working with free weights. He had changed into a close form-fitting outfit designed by the eggheads at the lab to be more suitable for working out in. Something about releasing the moisture that usually gets trapped by your clothes when you sweat, he didn''t really understand the principle, but whatever makes them happy.


    He was sweating profusely, his arms were shaking. He was engaged in pull-ups on the bar they had bolted to the floor, it was usable for anyone who was under six feet, two inches in height. Thomas himself was five-nine, a perfect height where he wasn''t too tall, neither was he too short. He also wasn''t as scrawny as he had been when he woke up in that camp, his arms were corded with muscle and he filled out the suit in a rather muscular way. This was barely perceptible unless you were really looking at him. The enhanced musculature subtly added to his already handsome face were he to go out into society, he would no doubt be branded as a keep, assuming he had no lady of his own that is.


    With a grunt, Thomas slowly lowered himself to the ground. He''d probably been in here for about an hour or so already. He tidied up the area before changing back into his uniform. He made sure to splash his face with water from the sinks in the back before drying off, he assumed his pre-workout look before walking out of the gym. Time to head to the shooting range, this was pretty much all he had been doing for the past couple of weeks since they started testing. Speaking of weeks, next week should be the day of Pearl Harbor, he wasn''t really looking forward to all the deaths about to occur, but as he felt earlier, it needs to happen. America must enter the war. Thomas cast all thoughts out of his head as he entered the gun range. He closed the door behind him, the soft click as the door closed a pronounced judgment of the coming days, affirming and echoing Thomas''s thoughts.

 39 Pearl Harbor 1

    PEARL HARBOR, HAWAII, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA


    DECEMBER 7TH, 1941 7:07AM


    In Hawaii, there is a United States naval base which houses most of the United States Pacific Fleet. The base is situated on the eastern side of Oahu, the biggest and largest of the chain of islands that make up Hawaii. It is early in the morning here and most of the base is full of sleepy and hungover troops and sailors from the previous night''s activities. Life here is very relaxed and it is considered one of the best bases to rotate to or be stationed on. Most of the troops posted here have never seen any hard action or engagements of any sort, they mostly went with the flow on the island. Overhead, seagulls cawed in the morning sun, intent on catching the days first fish in the harbor. Some sailors could be seen lugging cargo crates from here to there or sitting around reading the latest magazines about the latest female celebrities. There were also other activities such as playing catch, fishing off the harbor, though technically by regulation this wasn''t allowed, and the one activity most people are employing right now, sleeping.


    From the top of a nearby hill, one could gaze into the harbor and see all of the navy ships moored there. The USS Arizona, The Mississippi, the Minnesota, and others were majestically shining under the morning sun, not a glint of rust could be seen on any of them. You could even make out the ant-sized sailors sluggishly walking on deck or leaning over railings. Some of the buildings were clearly marked as well, such as the hospital, the armory, communications, and the barracks. On this day, however, in the communications building in a room housing some delicate equipment, a communications officer was fast asleep at his console. The overnight officer who had just spent the night keeping watch on air traffic was overdue to be relieved by an hour or so. On his console, there was a small blip, which then began to turn into multiple blips. The console was beeping at him, it was the warning for unidentified aircraft entering the US Airspace, but the officer was fast asleep, a little bit of drool pooling at his mouth, no one would be alerted.


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    A FEW MILES EAST OF PEARL HARBOR, PACIFIC OCEAN, INTERNATIONAL WATERS 7:32 AM


    Japanese Naval Pilot Fuchida Mitsuo glanced at his onboard compass, heading was South-Southeastern. They were heading the right right direction, he heaved a sigh, there was a lot of pressure surrounding this operation. Not only that, he was the flight commander for this with the appropriate equivalent rank of Captain. The Japanese military had a rank system that was very similar to the United States, this could be attributed to the fact that a scant hundred years before when the United States came to Japan, they were impressed by the might of the Americans and even drafted a system of government closely related to that of the United States.


    The plan called for three stages of the attack, the first stage was the surprise wave comprised of a mix of fighters and bombers. The second wave was mostly bombers while the third wave was again fighters and bombers, but mostly they were fighters. Captain Fuchida had the honor to lead the first squadron in commencing the attack and then send the signals back to the Japanese fleet the was some miles off in the distance. He would send these American devils to hell where they belong and then Japan would gloriously rise up and finally conquer all of the Pacific! He glanced into the back of the plane, he could see the radioman/gunner was next to the door fiddling with the new experimental radio they got. Supposedly the radio was able to transmit messages clearly over long distances and can contact the ship they were stationed on, the Akagi, even from Pearl Harbor!


    Fuchida checked the instruments panel, fuel was still good, just barely full. Altitude was reading seventy-two hundred meters, of course, he knew the maximum ceiling was just over eight thousand meters, but with the load in the bomb bay plus all of the equipment, they could only go this high. The air pressure in the engine was also good, hovering near max pressure, but not quite. He didn''t want to overload the new turbine engine and cause the plane to lose altitude.He glanced out of the cockpit, he couldn''t see Pearl Harbor yet, but he could only imagine it on the horizon, yes, the Americans would get what was coming to them. He pushed the throttle up slowly, the plane was slowly gaining RPM from three thousand to four thousand and climbing, it wasn''t quite in the red yet though. Likewise, the speedometer was showing a slow increase from two-hundred and sixty KPH and climbing. Behind him the rest of the squadron also sped up, they knew this was it.


    If everything went according to the plan, very soon the Americans would have almost no navy left, save for what was already deployed in the Atlantic. Fuchida shouted towards the other two men in the plane in Japanese.


    "Sugu ni junbi ga dekite, sugu ni t¨­chaku shimasu!"


    The effect was immediate, the man fiddling with the radio stopped and assumed the tail-gunner position in the back, while the other man who was sitting quietly moved to the front, he took the co-pilots seat and had control of the guns on the wings of the aircraft. Fuchida was satisfied, these men were up to the task, they should make short work of their enemies! On the horizon, Fuchida and his co-pilot could see Pearl Harbor coming into view rapidly, the men were excited and their breathing accelerated. It was showtime, for the Emperor and for Japan!


    A/N: The Japanese text says something to the effect of, "Get ready, it''s time!" I''ll be honest, I just used google because I wanted the second half of this chapter to seem like an authentic Japanese point of view. Also, who doesn''t like descriptions of the inside of an aircraft! For anyone who is interested, the plane is the Nakajima B5N, a very common type of Japanese plane that was mass produced until the B6N, which came years later. It''s technically a classified as a Fighter-Bomber or Attacker type aircraft. Very reliable, but just no defensive power on its own.

 40 Pearl Harbor 2

    Pearl Harbor was in utter chaos and unrestrained panic! Japanese A6M "Zero" type fighter aircraft were flying everywhere unrestrainedly. Their guns strafing and targeting any moving vehicle, person, or object, nothing was untouched. The screams of the dying and the wounded echoed throughout the harbor as the bomber aircraft finally reached the harbor. They had been designated very specific targets. This first wave of bombers targeted the barracks, the communications building, and the armory. This wasn''t coincidental as they had been fed the locations of all of these buildings by Japanese spies in the US military that they had planted years ago.


    The bombs fell and to those on the ground, they heard the whistling of them piercing through the air shortly before they landed. Several huge fireballs exploded into the sky as the bombs fell on the armory, the whole building collapsed in on itself, a blooming pile of smoke, ash, and rubble.


    Inside the communications building in a certain room, the officer on duty woke up in a panic and looked out a window. He saw all of the planes flying around with the trademark "rising sun" emblem on the undersides of the wings. He hurriedly toggled a few switches on the main console and the air raid siren echoed throughout Pearl Harbor, alerting those massive behemoths that sat moored in the harbor. Those ships weren''t the targets yet, but with the alarm blaring everyone on the ships had entered red alert status, all hands were gathered to Battlestations. The officer sighed in relief and saluted the harbor shortly before a Japanese torpedo bomb crashed into the room, exploding and blowing up that whole side of the communications building.


    ....


    A Nakjima B5N fighter-bomber aircraft pulled up out of its dive run over the communications building in Pearl Harbor. In the pilot''s seat sat the commander of the entire attack, Captain Mitsuo Fuchida. He frowned, unexpectedly they were able to get the air raid siren off before they could bomb Communications. This was troubling, but not entirely unexpected. He glanced at the fuel gauge, it was at a quarter of a tank, he should have time for a couple of strafing runs before the second wave gets here. Though, he would have to send the signal first to the fleet to give the okay that the surprise attack was indeed effective. He still had some misgivings about it, the situation felt off, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had already given the "To, To, To" signal, and the signal was misunderstood by the leader of the bomber squadrons, Lieutenant Commander Shigeharu Murata. Fuchida had to slide back the canopy and brave the harsh and fierce winds to fire off a blue flare. Only after that did the rest of the first attack commence.


    Fuchida turned the plane around gracefully in the air, the entire turn took about ten seconds, but that was nothing in the face of the American bombers, those took anywhere from fifteen to thirty seconds to turn around! Another reason they were going to lose this war so pitifully. He activated the long-range communication radio and signaled the Akagi with what would become one of the most infamous phrases of World War Two, though he would not know it yet.


    "Tora, Tora, Tora!"


    As they were heading past the ships sitting in the harbor, anti-aircraft fire came from one of the ships and traced holes across the wings, Fuchida glanced at the gauges and noticed that the air pressure was rapidly dropping. He glanced out of the cockpit and saw on one wing there were nearly ten holes and one of the fuel lines took a glancing hit, thankfully it hadn''t ignited, but it was rapidly leaking fuel. He glanced at the fuel gauge and it was slowly dropping faster, if this kept up, they wouldn''t have the fuel to make it back to the Akagi! On the left wing were seven holes, and one of the machine guns was badly mangled and unusable. Not yet a dire situation, but if they didn''t make it back to the Akagi within fifty minutes, they never would, all of them would drown at sea! Fuchida signaled the radioman to send a message to the Akagi.


    "Akagi, koreha fuchidadesu, watashitachiha hitto shite nenry¨­ o morashite imasu! Kurasshu chakuriku no junbi o suru!"


    Forty minutes later the B5N was approaching the Akagi, the fuel line was starting to leak less and less fuel and they were two minutes away! The fuel gauge was reading empty and the air pressure gauge was in the bottom red! They were going to drop like a rock soon! Soon enough their airplane started falling, first, it was slow, but as they approached the Akagi it got faster and faster. Fuchida was frowning and there were beads of sweat lining his forehead as he stepped on the rudders and pulled hard on the stick, the plane tilted upwards and he didn''t deploy the landing gear knowing that the wheels would just snap off. He deployed the airbrakes as soon as they could see the top deck of the Akagi, there were sailors hurrying about and carrying cargo netting and arranging huge replacement tires on the deck. It looked like they were innovatively trying to soften the impact of the landing! There were also scattered fire hoses on deck crewed by at least five people each, just in case a fire broke out.


    The rest of the plane crew strapped into a seat as Fuchida screamed at the controls. The plane was dropping like a rock at an angle thanks to Fuchida''s excellent flying skills! The deck loomed closer and closer until finally, they were dropping horizontally to it as if someone was using their plane as a skipping stone. The nose of the plane ground against the metal pavement of the Akagi''s Flight Deck, the plane skidding and sending sparks everywhere! One of these sparks ended up igniting the remnant fuel in the busted fuel line setting it ablaze! Fuchida and crew could only hold on for dear life strapped into their seats, thankfully the fuel tank was empty and couldn''t trigger any large explosion that would consume them all. The plane skidded slower and slower and crashed into the cargo netting first at about seventy-two KPH, it tore through losing twenty KPH and then it crashed into the multi-layered tire set losing all of it''s momentum and coming to a grinding halt. Crews with the hoses began spraying down the flames as Captain Fuchicda and his crew sighed in relief. They could only hope the rest of the surprise attack went well, their part in this was done.

 39 Mitsuo Fuchida, Imperial Hero

    PEARL HARBOR, HAWAII, UNITED STATES OF AMERICA


    DECEMBER 7TH, 1941 7:07AM


    In Hawaii, there is a United States naval base which houses most of the United States Pacific Fleet. The base is situated on the eastern side of Oahu, the biggest and largest of the chain of islands that make up Hawaii. It is early in the morning here and most of the base is full of sleepy and hungover troops and sailors from the previous night''s activities. Life here is very relaxed and it is considered one of the best bases to rotate to or be stationed on. Most of the troops posted here have never seen any hard action or engagements of any sort, they mostly went with the flow on the island. Overhead, seagulls cawed in the morning sun, intent on catching the days first fish in the harbor. Some sailors could be seen lugging cargo crates from here to there or sitting around reading the latest magazines about the latest female celebrities. There were also other activities such as playing catch, fishing off the harbor, though technically by regulation this wasn''t allowed, and the one activity most people are employing right now, sleeping.


    From the top of a nearby hill, one could gaze into the harbor and see all of the navy ships moored there. The USS Arizona, The Mississippi, the Minnesota, and others were majestically shining under the morning sun, not a glint of rust could be seen on any of them. You could even make out the ant-sized sailors sluggishly walking on deck or leaning over railings. Some of the buildings were clearly marked as well, such as the hospital, the armory, communications, and the barracks. On this day, however, in the communications building in a room housing some delicate equipment, a communications officer was fast asleep at his console. The overnight officer who had just spent the night keeping watch on air traffic was overdue to be relieved by an hour or so. On his console, there was a small blip, which then began to turn into multiple blips. The console was beeping at him, it was the warning for unidentified aircraft entering the US Airspace, but the officer was fast asleep, a little bit of drool pooling at his mouth, no one would be alerted.


    ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    A FEW MILES EAST OF PEARL HARBOR, PACIFIC OCEAN, INTERNATIONAL WATERS 7:32 AM


    Japanese Naval Pilot Fuchida Mitsuo glanced at his onboard compass, heading was South-Southeastern. They were heading the right right direction, he heaved a sigh, there was a lot of pressure surrounding this operation. Not only that, he was the flight commander for this with the appropriate equivalent rank of Captain. The Japanese military had a rank system that was very similar to the United States, this could be attributed to the fact that a scant hundred years before when the United States came to Japan, they were impressed by the might of the Americans and even drafted a system of government closely related to that of the United States.


    The plan called for three stages of the attack, the first stage was the surprise wave comprised of a mix of fighters and bombers. The second wave was mostly bombers while the third wave was again fighters and bombers, but mostly they were fighters. Captain Fuchida had the honor to lead the first squadron in commencing the attack and then send the signals back to the Japanese fleet the was some miles off in the distance. He would send these American devils to hell where they belong and then Japan would gloriously rise up and finally conquer all of the Pacific! He glanced into the back of the plane, he could see the radioman/gunner was next to the door fiddling with the new experimental radio they got. Supposedly the radio was able to transmit messages clearly over long distances and can contact the ship they were stationed on, the Akagi, even from Pearl Harbor!


    Fuchida checked the instruments panel, fuel was still good, just barely full. Altitude was reading seventy-two hundred meters, of course, he knew the maximum ceiling was just over eight thousand meters, but with the load in the bomb bay plus all of the equipment, they could only go this high. The air pressure in the engine was also good, hovering near max pressure, but not quite. He didn''t want to overload the new turbine engine and cause the plane to lose altitude.He glanced out of the cockpit, he couldn''t see Pearl Harbor yet, but he could only imagine it on the horizon, yes, the Americans would get what was coming to them. He pushed the throttle up slowly, the plane was slowly gaining RPM from three thousand to four thousand and climbing, it wasn''t quite in the red yet though. Likewise, the speedometer was showing a slow increase from two-hundred and sixty KPH and climbing. Behind him the rest of the squadron also sped up, they knew this was it.


    If everything went according to the plan, very soon the Americans would have almost no navy left, save for what was already deployed in the Atlantic. Fuchida shouted towards the other two men in the plane in Japanese.


    "Sugu ni junbi ga dekite, sugu ni t¨­chaku shimasu!"


    The effect was immediate, the man fiddling with the radio stopped and assumed the tail-gunner position in the back, while the other man who was sitting quietly moved to the front, he took the co-pilots seat and had control of the guns on the wings of the aircraft. Fuchida was satisfied, these men were up to the task, they should make short work of their enemies! On the horizon, Fuchida and his co-pilot could see Pearl Harbor coming into view rapidly, the men were excited and their breathing accelerated. It was showtime, for the Emperor and for Japan!


    A/N: The Japanese text says something to the effect of, "Get ready, it''s time!" I''ll be honest, I just used google because I wanted the second half of this chapter to seem like an authentic Japanese point of view. Also, who doesn''t like descriptions of the inside of an aircraft! For anyone who is interested, the plane is the Nakajima B5N, a very common type of Japanese plane that was mass produced until the B6N, which came years later. It''s technically a classified as a Fighter-Bomber or Attacker type aircraft. Very reliable, but just no defensive power on its own.

 40 Fuchida Falling

    Pearl Harbor was in utter chaos and unrestrained panic! Japanese A6M "Zero" type fighter aircraft were flying everywhere unrestrainedly. Their guns strafing and targeting any moving vehicle, person, or object, nothing was untouched. The screams of the dying and the wounded echoed throughout the harbor as the bomber aircraft finally reached the harbor. They had been designated very specific targets. This first wave of bombers targeted the barracks, the communications building, and the armory. This wasn''t coincidental as they had been fed the locations of all of these buildings by Japanese spies in the US military that they had planted years ago.


    The bombs fell and to those on the ground, they heard the whistling of them piercing through the air shortly before they landed. Several huge fireballs exploded into the sky as the bombs fell on the armory, the whole building collapsed in on itself, a blooming pile of smoke, ash, and rubble.


    Inside the communications building in a certain room, the officer on duty woke up in a panic and looked out a window. He saw all of the planes flying around with the trademark "rising sun" emblem on the undersides of the wings. He hurriedly toggled a few switches on the main console and the air raid siren echoed throughout Pearl Harbor, alerting those massive behemoths that sat moored in the harbor. Those ships weren''t the targets yet, but with the alarm blaring everyone on the ships had entered red alert status, all hands were gathered to Battlestations. The officer sighed in relief and saluted the harbor shortly before a Japanese torpedo bomb crashed into the room, exploding and blowing up that whole side of the communications building.


    ....


    A Nakjima B5N fighter-bomber aircraft pulled up out of its dive run over the communications building in Pearl Harbor. In the pilot''s seat sat the commander of the entire attack, Captain Mitsuo Fuchida. He frowned, unexpectedly they were able to get the air raid siren off before they could bomb Communications. This was troubling, but not entirely unexpected. He glanced at the fuel gauge, it was at a quarter of a tank, he should have time for a couple of strafing runs before the second wave gets here. Though, he would have to send the signal first to the fleet to give the okay that the surprise attack was indeed effective. He still had some misgivings about it, the situation felt off, but there was nothing he could do about it. He had already given the "To, To, To" signal, and the signal was misunderstood by the leader of the bomber squadrons, Lieutenant Commander Shigeharu Murata. Fuchida had to slide back the canopy and brave the harsh and fierce winds to fire off a blue flare. Only after that did the rest of the first attack commence.


    Fuchida turned the plane around gracefully in the air, the entire turn took about ten seconds, but that was nothing in the face of the American bombers, those took anywhere from fifteen to thirty seconds to turn around! Another reason they were going to lose this war so pitifully. He activated the long-range communication radio and signaled the Akagi with what would become one of the most infamous phrases of World War Two, though he would not know it yet.


    "Tora, Tora, Tora!"


    As they were heading past the ships sitting in the harbor, anti-aircraft fire came from one of the ships and traced holes across the wings, Fuchida glanced at the gauges and noticed that the air pressure was rapidly dropping. He glanced out of the cockpit and saw on one wing there were nearly ten holes and one of the fuel lines took a glancing hit, thankfully it hadn''t ignited, but it was rapidly leaking fuel. He glanced at the fuel gauge and it was slowly dropping faster, if this kept up, they wouldn''t have the fuel to make it back to the Akagi! On the left wing were seven holes, and one of the machine guns was badly mangled and unusable. Not yet a dire situation, but if they didn''t make it back to the Akagi within fifty minutes, they never would, all of them would drown at sea! Fuchida signaled the radioman to send a message to the Akagi.


    "Akagi, koreha fuchidadesu, watashitachiha hitto shite nenry¨­ o morashite imasu! Kurasshu chakuriku no junbi o suru!"


    Forty minutes later the B5N was approaching the Akagi, the fuel line was starting to leak less and less fuel and they were two minutes away! The fuel gauge was reading empty and the air pressure gauge was in the bottom red! They were going to drop like a rock soon! Soon enough their airplane started falling, first, it was slow, but as they approached the Akagi it got faster and faster. Fuchida was frowning and there were beads of sweat lining his forehead as he stepped on the rudders and pulled hard on the stick, the plane tilted upwards and he didn''t deploy the landing gear knowing that the wheels would just snap off. He deployed the airbrakes as soon as they could see the top deck of the Akagi, there were sailors hurrying about and carrying cargo netting and arranging huge replacement tires on the deck. It looked like they were innovatively trying to soften the impact of the landing! There were also scattered fire hoses on deck crewed by at least five people each, just in case a fire broke out.


    The rest of the plane crew strapped into a seat as Fuchida screamed at the controls. The plane was dropping like a rock at an angle thanks to Fuchida''s excellent flying skills! The deck loomed closer and closer until finally, they were dropping horizontally to it as if someone was using their plane as a skipping stone. The nose of the plane ground against the metal pavement of the Akagi''s Flight Deck, the plane skidding and sending sparks everywhere! One of these sparks ended up igniting the remnant fuel in the busted fuel line setting it ablaze! Fuchida and crew could only hold on for dear life strapped into their seats, thankfully the fuel tank was empty and couldn''t trigger any large explosion that would consume them all. The plane skidded slower and slower and crashed into the cargo netting first at about seventy-two KPH, it tore through losing twenty KPH and then it crashed into the multi-layered tire set losing all of it''s momentum and coming to a grinding halt. Crews with the hoses began spraying down the flames as Captain Fuchicda and his crew sighed in relief. They could only hope the rest of the surprise attack went well, their part in this was done.

 41 Doris Miller, Hero

    The second and third wave of the Japanese surprise attack arrived nearly at the same time to Pearl Harbor. The sky was thick with planes, smoke, fumes, and anti-aircraft fire which crossed the sky with impunity and smashed into Japanese aircraft, punching holes and sending some crashing into the water or ground in fiery wrecks. This wave of bombers and fighters had smashed the rest of the buildings still standing, including the hospital. They were now targeting the ships still in the bay and the airfield, taking down the airfield was of importance and made sure the US Navy couldn''t launch any planes to fight against them.


    Before any of this even happened though, somewhere on the USS West Virginia at seven-thirty in the morning, US Navy Sailor Messman Third Class Doris Miller was attending to the ship''s laundry. He was a bald six-foot-three tall black man with powerful muscles stretched impressively across his body.He couldn''t be described as handsome, but he was loyal to the country and his family. He loved America, which is why he decided to enlist in the first place. He attended to the laundry for another twenty or so minutes when the ship shuddered twice. A few bottles of laundry detergent fell to the floor from a shelf and Doris quickly grabbed onto a machine to steady himself. The klaxon alarm in the ship wailed as all the lights turned red, Captain Mervyn Bennion sounded over the ship''s speakers.


    "All hands to Battlestations! I repeat! All hands--"


    Whatever came next was suddenly cut off as an explosion rocked the ship again, Doris knew what he had to do. He ran through the metal hallways of the ship, he was midship and he needed to get aft to the anti-aircraft batteries. He ran up a series of stairs past other sailors who were hurrying around to their battle stations, some of them were carrying hatches and fire extinguishers. Doris was rapidly ascending, he got to the first deck and turned down a few hallways past a couple more sailors who were running in the opposite direction. An explosion rocked the ship and part of the hallway exploded as Doris was thrown to the ground. Luckily there was only a pipe blowing steam that was hanging down from the wall, but he couldn''t chance crossing it, that steam was incredibly hot. He turned back and ran down a few more hallways, he passed the Captain''s Quarters and the XO''s Cabin. They weren''t inside, he didn''t expect them to be.


    He turned two more hallways and arrived at his station, but the AA batteries were completely destroyed, a piece of a plane''s propeller was stuck against the wall, completely jamming a door shut. Someone was banging on the door, muffled and inaudible yelling could be heard. Doris made a quick decision, he knew this part of the ship as he personally delivered the Captain''s meals sometimes. He ran back down the hallways and on the wall to his left was a glass case containing a Firefighter''s Hatchet. He broke the casing and took the hatchet in hand, it''s heavyweight was nothing for the man who prided himself as the Heavy Weight Boxing Champion on the West Virginia. He ran back to the door jammed by the propeller and used the hatchet as a wedge to try to get it out of the handle. It budged a little bit and he yelled as he put more force into it. He almost got it! The hatchet forced the propeller loose, but it broke in the process. Doris gripped the propeller and pulled, it came free but it sliced his hand in the process. A thin line of blood welled up across his palm, but he didn''t care as he yanked on the door handle. The door popped open with only the slightest resistance.


    "Thanks!" A white sailor with a Corpsman identification greeted him, there was a ton of smoke in the room that floated out as he said so. If he had waited any longer he most likely would have suffocated to death. Doris saved one person, but now it was time to save the ship, he needed to find someone with authority who knew what was going on. Doris turned and ran topside towards the Conning Tower. As soon as he arrived on the bridge, he spotted Lieutenant Commander Doir Johnson, the ship''s Communication Officer. The Lieutenant waved him over and said, "Sailor, the Captain''s been injured, we need to get him somewhere safer!"


    They quickly entered the Conning Tower intending to take the Captain, Mervyn Bennion, to safety on a stretcher, but that didn''t work. He had a bleeding hole in his abdomen that had stained his entire uniform red, in the hole, was a bunch of metal shrapnel. The bridge itself was also a mess, wires dangled everywhere and most of the consoles were just piles of scrap now. There was even a large hole in the side of the Conning Tower where a plane wing was just dangling there. The two men didn''t need to say anything, they just nodded and both grabbed a side of the Captain and escorted him to just outside the Conning Tower, putting him down in a relatively safe spot on the side. The Captain was conscious enough to continue issuing orders. Lieutenant Frederic White also came by and ordered Doris to load the two unmanned Browning Fifty-Caliber Machine Guns on the conning tower along with an Ensign he brought. Doris wasn''t familiar with the weapons so he fumbled with the ammunition as he loaded it, Frederic was about to issue new orders when he turned and saw that Doris was already on the gun firing at the strafing aircraft.


    Japanese Zeroes tried to zero in on Doris and take him out of the fight with strafing runs, but each aircraft that turned was shot by Doris. One of the aircraft came diving out of the sky with the sun reflecting on it, making it hard to see and harsh to look at, but Doris didn''t care. With each pull of the trigger, the gun jumped in his hands, delivering a lead death to any aircraft that flew near. One of the aircraft he shot blew up in mid-air as the fuselage took three consecutive hits. Another aircraft lost total flight capability and crashed into the nearby USS Minnesota, opening a hole in it. Doris fired and fired until his powerful arms started to feel numb from the gun. He chivalrously defended the Captain and his officers until a plane was able to get past his gunfire. The plane opened up on Doris and one of the rounds hit him in the left leg, which turned into a bloody mess. Doris screamed in pain and held onto the gun for dear life as he used it to keep himself held up. His leg furiously dripped blood, but he didn''t care. The bone was also showing, a pure white interspersed with specks of red. He still didn''t care. His face became pale and sweat dripped profusely down from his forehead, he knew his life was needing quickly but he still didn''t care. All that mattered was the men around him and keeping the Captain safe. He screamed with fury and his barrage became laser straight and more furious as he shot down plane after plane. Long after all the rest of the planes refused to come near the USS West Virginia he kept firing until the last plane left for the horizon. Everyone around him was shocked and the Captain had already died from his wounds, but he had a smile on his face as his open eye gaze was directed at Doris. The rest of the officers quickly approached Doris, but he didn''t respawn to any of their calls. When they turned him around they had discovered that he already had died, a fierce expression was frozen on his face, full of determination and willpower. The blood that was dripping from his leg had already slowed down his pace. Doris Miller was a hero to those around him and an inspiration to future generations.

 42 Small Delay, My Apologies

    @@


    Hey everyone, sorry to be the bearer of bad news, I swear I''m not trying to release chapters this slowly. I got sick last Wednesday and am now shaking it off, I have literally been asleep almost 20 hours a day. Good news is that I should have an extended weekend this weekend. So I will try to pump out more chapters if I am feeling better! Things will get better, I''m not giving up on this novel!@@

 43 Kenneth Taylor, Pilot Extraordinaire

    At a small table in a barn out in a field, two men were snoring peacefully at a table. An unfinished poker game lay scattered on the table as well as quite a few bottles of alcohol. Both men were snoring at a good volume, all of the excitement of the previous hour completely forgotten. They were both wearing tuxedos, yet for all their drunken splendor, not a single one was dirtied or disheveled. These men were honest pilots of the United States Navy and they were assigned to Pearl Harbor and just this last night they were celebrating their recent promotions to Flight Lieutenants. They had only fallen asleep the previous hour after having been up all night, but when the Japanese planes started strafing the nearby airfield and the sounds of explosions could be heard, both men awoke with a jolt. They ran outside, the harsh morning sunlight burned their eyes as they watched Japanese Zeroes flying overhead.


    "Look at the meatballs on those wings Ken!" One of the shorter of the two called out.


    "We gotta get to the airfield George! Come on!" The taller one with the sandy blonde hair called back to his friend George as they both hopped into the jeep they had used to drive to this barn in the middle of nowhere. The planes up above noticed the two''s frantic drive through the fields and on to the highway. According to the maps they were given and their pre-op briefing, those two should be headed towards the nearby auxiliary airfield Haleiwa, which means that they are either pilots or mechanics! A formation of Japanese Zeroes started to dive down and strafe the American Jeep. Bullets stitched the highway in random patterns all around the jeep, sending rocks flying everywhere. The jeep swerved between lanes, rounding the corner of the mountainside they were driving on. The speedometer read a total speed of one-hundred and eight miles per hour, which was incredible, and absolutely insane.


    "Step on it, Georgie! They''re right on our ass!" Kenneth yelled as he fumbled around in the backseat for something useful against the strafing planes. Finally, with a triumphant shout, he managed to find a Thompson Submachine Gun, he only had two extra magazines to go with it though.


    George noticed that his best friend managed to find a gun in the backseat while he was maniacally driving. "Give''em hell Ken!"


    Ken didn''t need any more words of encouragement as he took aim at the nearest plane heading straight towards them. He squeezed the trigger as soon as he lined up the sights.


    RATATATATATA!!!! RATATATATATA!!!! RATATATATATA!!! RATATATA--PING!!!


    He hit the fuselage and managed to ignite a flame in the cockpit of the plane as his gun emptied! The plane tried to pull up over the mountain and sheered one of its wings off in a haze of sparks as it flew over the mountain.


    "HELL YEAH!!! YOU WANT SOME OF THIS?!!" Ken high off adrenaline started shouting at the planes when he saw that one go down over the mountain. He swiftly reloaded the Thompson and took quick aim at another strafing plane.


    RATATATATATA!!!! RATATATATA!!!


    The plane pulled off quickly, remembering what just happened to its fellow as Ken stitched line across its wings in a shower of sparks and flying metal bits. All of the Japanese planes hung at a distance and took random potshots at the jeep. None of them hit, but there was nothing they could do without risking their planes going down.


    Soon enough they drove down the mountain and into a field. At the far end of the field was an airstrip with hangars. Anti-aircraft fire filled the skies above the airfield as Japanese planes were harassing the defenders. Yet no serious damage was done as this was only an auxiliary target and this airfield was well prepared and notified in advance. At the base, the commanding officer noticed the wildly driving jeep with the aircraft behind it trying to shoot it to pieces. He immediately ordered supporting fire to cover the fleeing jeep. Soon after one of the aircraft in the sky above the jeep burst into flame and crashed outside of the airfield as fifty caliber bullets stitched across it, ignited the fuselage and fuel tanks.


    George drove right up to the commanding officer breaking into a slide that put them about twenty feet away. They both got out of the jeep and saluted, half in uniform.


    "Boys it''s great that you''re here! I''ve got planes, but no pilots! No time to get in gear! Get in those planes and get these assholes out of my airspace!"


    "Sir!" They both saluted and ran to the hangars. Mechanics and technicians were undergoing last minute and quick fitting of the two planes they were going to use. They had loaded two P-40 Warhawk fighter planes, but with thirty caliber ammunition, there wasn''t any time to retrofit them with the fifties! Ken and Gorge climbed into their planes, no time for a pre-flight check-up. They started the engines and with a roar, they slowly exited the hangars.


    "COVER THOSE AIRCRAFT BOYS!" The commanding officer yelled at the anti-aircraft gunners. Soon the sky above the two Warhawks was filled with tracers and no planes dared get close to the two planes lifting off. George and Ken braced themselves as their aircraft accelerated down the strip, slowly inching into the air. Soon they were free, flying the skies amidst a hail of bullets. Ken took a looked out of his cockpit and noticed two Japanese Zeroes bearing down on the hangar bays even while being fired upon. He jerked the joystick and pressed down on the rudder, his plane taking a wide curve in the air as he dived at the Japanese planes. He lined up the reticle on the inside of the cockpit with the planes in front as he thumbed the trigger, letting loose a stream of thirty caliber rounds!


    Ratatatatatatatatatatatatatatatatata!!!! Ratatatatatatatatatatatatatatatata!!!!


    The sounds of the machine guns firing lost in the wind, but he could feel the plane jerking with the recoil. Soon in front of him, one of the planes caught on fire, he scored a hit on the fuselage again! It quickly burned out, with so much wind pressure the fire wasn''t able to last long, but there was a big hole in the wing, causing the plane to lose airspeed rapidly. Ken took advantage of this to let another stream of bullets loose and he was rewarded when his rounds penetrated the cockpit, ripping the Japanese pilot apart in a haze of gore. The plane rapidly tumbled out of the air without a pilot to control it, turning into a blazing inferno on the ground.


    "Ken I need help here!" George cried on the radio. Ken looked around and tried to spot George. He found him at his ten o''clock position. George was being chased by three Zeroes. Another yank on the stick and a shift in the rudder and he swung his plane gracefully in the air. He increased the throttle, pushing his Warhawk to her limits, rapidly closing the distance in the air. He lined up behind the Zeroes in haste and squeezed the trigger.


    Ratatatatatatata! Ratatatatatata! Ratatatatata! Ratatatata---CLINK!!


    Shit! Ken looked at his dashboard. Weapon Jam was lit red. Nothing he could do about it. He managed to clip the tail of one of the planes, it was forced to abort and try to limp back to its carrier fleet. Ken keyed the radio.


    "Georgie! My weapon jammed! Play some chicken?!"


    "Just like we used to do?! When the Flight Lieutenant would get mad at us?!"


    "Just like that brother."


    In sync the two Warhawks pulled off a highly advanced maneuver. George''s Warhawk flew underneath and over the first plane while Ken pulled ahead of the second plane. Both lead their respective "victims" in opposite directions while dodging aircraft fire by weaving left and right. Suddenly they both climbed straight into the sky and flew towards each other, their shadows following suit. At the very last second, Ken and George yanked their joysticks up as hard as they can while slamming the rudder. Their planes took a sharp downwards turn as if they had hit a brick wall in midair. The two Japanese planes were not so lucky as they crashed nose first into each other, exploding in midair, raining parts all over the sky.


    Ken and George scanned around for any other aircraft but there were none. Ken had no choice but to land because his weapon had jammed, and George followed suit. As Ken climbed out of the cockpit he was greeted by the commanding officer.


    "Great flying son, command passed down the word. The Japanese planes are pulling out, this battle is over. Get some rest, you''ve earned it. God knows we''ll be going to war soon."


    Ken walked away from his aircraft feeling great. He was looking forward to the upcoming war. He had a feeling there was going to be more action where that came from.

 44 Reports and Approval

    Major General Hughes sighed as he lay the newspaper he was reading on his desk. The title of the newspaper reads, JAPANESE SURPRISE ATTACK ON PEARL HARBOR, UNPRECEDENTED DAMAGE TO NAVAL FLEET, there was another newspaper that detailed an exaggerated eighty percent loss of fleet power for the Pacific. They were told to say that of course; They needed to encourage public outrage. Hughes had the actual figures, thanks to the advanced armor plating they installed on some of the ships in haste they only lost an actual fifty percent of fleet power. There was going to be a memorial for the ships that were lost with all hands on deck, and then he supposed they would ready for war.


    A list of the ships lost with all hands on deck was also on the desk. It was a grim readout, but not as grim as it could have been.


    USS ARIZONA


    USS OKLAHOMA


    USS CALIFORNIA


    USS UTAH


    USS NEVADA


    Five ships total, over twenty-five hundred crewmen lost, not even counting the number of people lost in the initial bombing of the infrastructure. Reports put the total casualty amount at near five-thousand; wounded at less than a quarter of that number. It could have been much less he mused, as long as Thomas decided to come clean about the attack before it happened. Hughes couldn''t be bothered to go after Thomas, their reasoning was the same at this point. Only forced entry into the war could guarantee them the time they needed. It might even mean extra funds, it would certainly mean that all of the projects would have to be accelerated.


    At the very least, it would mean extra time for Thomas, and at this point, that''s all Major Hughes could ask for...


    -------------------------------------------


    WASHINGTON D.C., VIRGINIA, WHITE HOUSE DECEMBER 8, 1941


    The President of the United States,Franklin Delano Roosevelt, sat in his oval office early in the morning. The weight of yesterday''s attack on Pearl Harbor left him ashamed and angry. Such an attack to have occurred under his watch as President, nothing less than shameful, but that such an attack had happened to his own American citizens...it was truly angering. He called an emergency meeting of his staff after the attack had happened, he demanded to know of the Pentagon why security was so lax in such turbulent times. Excuses! Excuses one and all! No one could give him a straight answer, except of course for his lovely wife, Eleanor. Ah, she always did have an answer for him. Her advice this time was sound. Ignore those old codgers in the Senate, go with your feelings, make the speech you know America is waiting for. Give them the answers they deserve!


    Brilliant advice, and now, it was time for him to put such advice into action. He picked up dialed the phone on his desk, it was a rotary phone, quite new in fact. You had to spin the dial to the number and let it go back to the beginning before you could get to the next number. He quickly and with practiced ease dialed the number to the conferencing room where he infrequently held his famous and widely loved Fireside Chats. It was high time to let America know that they would not take this sitting down.


    -----------------------------------


    SENATE COMMITTEE, WASHINGTON D.C. DECEMBER 8, 1941


    President Franklin Roosevelt''s voice could be heard echoing the wide and round chambers of the Senate Committee, he was, of course, addressing the entire nation impromptu, most of the Senate members had just made it and all of them were seated when his radio address began.


    "Yesterday, December 7th, 1941¡ªa date which will live in infamy¡ªthe United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.


    The United States was at peace with that nation and, at the solicitation of Japan, was still in conversation with its government and its emperor looking toward the maintenance of peace in the Pacific.


    Indeed, one hour after Japanese air squadrons had commenced bombing in the American island of Oahu, the Japanese ambassador to the United States and his colleague delivered to our Secretary of State a formal reply to a recent American message...."


    Ten minutes in and the members of the Senate began discussing amongst themselves the same matters they always have. Thought they did like FDR''s "Day of Infamy" touch to his message. Most of them have barely been asleep since the attack the day before. They were working overtime to make the necessary calls and contact the necessary people to get some of the ball rolling for a few secret projects. Not ones all of the Senate knew about, but just a few key ones.


    "The attack yesterday on the Hawaiian islands has caused severe damage to American naval and military forces. I regret to tell you that very many American lives have been lost. In addition, American ships have been reported torpedoed on the high seas between San Francisco and Honolulu.


    Yesterday, the Japanese government also launched an attack against Malaya.


    Last night, Japanese forces attacked Hong Kong.


    Last night, Japanese forces attacked Guam.


    Last night, Japanese forces attacked the Philippine Islands.


    Last night, the Japanese attacked Wake Island.


    And this morning, the Japanese attacked Midway Island.


    Japan has, therefore, undertaken a surprise offensive extending throughout the Pacific area."


    Thirty minutes into his address and this message had taken the Senate and Congress by surprise. The Japanese had really been thinking this through, if it was just Hawaii then that''s one thing but through the entire Pacific? Some members of Congress and the Senate had business holdings in those areas or were trying various social experiments that they had poured their money into! Unthinkable! The Senate and Congress were riled up now, the President was laying all the facts before them, some of it some of them had known, but the vast majority were in the dark, not privy to the military secrets that some of the wealthier members had their hands on.


    "I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, December 7th, 1941, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire."


    With that, the radio broadcast came to an end, and the entirety of America was burning with the flames of anger. Enraged by the Japanese onslaught, they wanted nothing more than revenge. The hour-long speech by the President had succeeded in riling up the American Public. Outrage, shame, anger, and hatred. Within that very hour, Congress had unanimously approved a State of War between the United States and Japan. An hour after that, Adolf Hitler of Germany extended his Declaration of War to include the United States as a token of friendship with Japan. The world was burning, but America will be damned if it didn''t jump into the fire this time.


    -----------------------------


    Major General Hughes got off the phone with the Pentagon, he had a smile on his face. He sat back in his chair as he contemplated his phone call, everything was going according to the plan. Now he had to go and make sure it got done, personally. He got off his chair and stretched his aching limbs. No matter how happy he was, he was still a fifty-year-old man, and his body wasn''t getting any younger. He tossed a letter he had a received just ten minutes ago on his desk, then he exited his office. The letter which he tossed on his desk didn''t really say much, it was all technical jargon, but at the very bottom, stamped in giant print....


    APPROVED


    End of Book 2

 45 Accidental Activation

    Thomas Conlin was reading the latest reports on Pearl Harbor in his quarters. He had spruced it up a little bit, he had some photos of him and a couple of buddies running through the specialized obstacle course. There were also some when he had gotten pretty hammered at the bar off hours. All in all, things had proceeded according to his plans, the bigger picture is that America has entered the war, pretty soon the Africa Campaign will begin, as well as some smaller fighting in Europe. The biggest contender for Africa is the Campaign in the Pacific, he only knew a little about that though. He fought in Africa and Europe mostly, the Pacific was for the Marines.


    A soft knock at his door brought Thomas out of his musings and the voice he heard at his door had him quickly hiding his reports and he swiftly brought out a newspaper on the bombing of Pearl Harbor.


    "May I come in?" The soft tone of Doctor Elaine''s voice sounded from beyond the barrier that was his door.


    "Absolutely Doctor, be my guest," Thomas said as he quickly opened the door for the doctor. Upon opening the door he was greeted by the sight of Doctor Elaine in a casual outfit with her lab coat on over them. She was wearing a navy blue skirt that cut off just after her knees and a deep purple blouse that simultaneously hid and accentuated her assets. Thomas stared appreciatively for a moment before he stepped aside and gestured for her to come in.


    "You look lovely today, Doctor," Thomas said candidly.


    Doctor Elaine laughed merrily before she replied, "Thank you for the compliment, but I am sure that my outfit wasn''t the only thing you were admiring."


    "Of course not Doctor," Thomas replied truthfully, there was no point in lying to her. "You also have a great figure and I was appreciating it."


    "Well then appreciate away, young Captain." She smiled teasingly as she sat down on his bed, one leg crossed over the other. Doctor Elaine and Captain Thomas had gotten to know each other over the course of the last month and a half he had been here. He found her company to be delightful, but other than that, he didn''t really want to take it any further himself. Probably for the best as well, he may end up dying again during this war, he wouldn''t want to leave her widowed, or even worse, with his child.


    "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Doctor?" Thomas asked, trying to get down to the bottom of whatever it was that she wanted.


    "Straight to the point are we?" Doctor Elaine evaded as she got off his bed and walked over to his desk. She eyed the article on Pearl Harbor and looked at him with a smile.


    "I can see you''ve been keeping up to date with news from the outside, but surely you know these numbers are...exaggerated..?"


    "Of course I do, Doctor," Thomas said. " It is just that, well I thought I''d take a look at the local news and see what numbers they came up with for the bombing. Besides, you and I both know these numbers aren''t true, considering that we armed that bases ships with some of the experimental armor plating and the new warning systems."


    Doctor Elaine sauntered up to him before wrapping herself around him in a seductive way whispering into his ear, "I have a feeling that you know more than you''re letting on...Captain."


    "Even a man has his secrets Doctor," Thomas replied.


    "Oh?" Doctor Elaine was surprised, but not too worried, she''d hear the truth later. "Well if that''s the case, I guess I am going to just have to drag it out of you." Doctor Elaine kissed Thomas on the cheek lightly and before he could reply she said, "Hughes is waiting for you in the experimental test room, don''t be late." Then she lightly sprang out of his room, leaving him to his thoughts and the burning feeling on his skin where she kissed his cheek. He touched it with his hand as if trying to assure himself that really happened before he straightened up and left the room.


    Twenty minutes later Thomas arrived at the Number Two Experimental Lab as ordered by Major General Hughes. Upon entering he noticed that is was just Major General Hughes there and nobody else. Hughes wasn''t dressed in his uniform, but more a relaxed work-out outfit. Just some gym shorts and a t-shirt that said ARMY on it.


    "I have a lot of things to talk to you about today Captain, but let''s spar while we do so," Major General Hughes shouted at him from across the room. Thomas took off his uniform shirt and neatly folded it before setting it down beside the door, no sense in getting it dirty and scuffed. He couldn''t do anything about his dress pants, however, but that''s fine, he had a few other pairs. Ready to get to it, Thomas took a few practice swings and some movement techniques to warm up. As he got closer to the Major General, Thomas noticed that he already had a layer of sweat covering him.


    "Been here a while, sir?" Thomas asked.


    "About an hour or so, but let''s get down to business," Hughes replied, throwing out a left hook which Thomas sturdily blocked.


    "What sort of business?" Thomas threw out a right-hander of his own, which Hughes dodged.


    "Let''s talk about Pearl Harbor, I know you knew something about it." Hughes casually tossed out.


    "I have no idea what you''re talking about, sir. I just got the news yesterday as you did." Thomas gave him a noncommittal answer and a straight face as well as a right. Hughes knocked it aside with practiced ease.


    "Don''t give me that bullshit son, you know what''s in the journal, you know what''s written. I know you know!" Hughes tried an uppercut but it was blocked with both arms.


    "Sir, I insist that I know nothin---" Thomas was then interrupted by an angry Hughes.


    "DO NOT GIVE ME THAT BULLSHIT! I KNOW YOU''VE SEEN THE REPORTS. FIVE-THOUSAND LIVES!!!!" Hughes landed a right on Thomas''s face, Thomas gritted his teeth and swung back, but it was wide.


    "You mean to stand right here in front of my face and tell me you couldn''t have saved those men?" Hughes lowered his voice to a whisper.


    "No, I really didn''t know anything.." Thomas threw a half-hearted swing out. He wasn''t in it. Those accusations hit him right where it hurts. He knows the truth, but those men needed to die so that he could live on and accomplish what no man will ever do again.


    "USS Nevada, USS California..." Major General Hughes voice got louder with each name until he was almost yelling. "USS ARIZONA, USS UTAH, USS OKLAHOMA!!! FIVE THOUSAND CASUALTIES AND YOU COULD HAVE PREVENTED THEM ALL!!!!"


    "I KNOW!!!" Thomas yelled out in response, his voice wracked with guilt and pain. "YOU THINK I WANTED THEM TO DIE?! DO YOU THINK I WANTED ANY OF THIS?!" A green glow started to manifest around Thomas, unbeknownst to him.


    "YOU THINK I WANTED TO DIE IN THE FIRST PLACE?!! I HAD A FAMILY, FRIENDS, I HAD A HOME!!!" Thomas swung and the green glow became brighter, Hughes could barely block it. "


    "THERE''S NOT A DAY THAT HASN''T GONE BY HERE THAT I DON''T MISS MY FAMILY, I CAN''T EVEN REMEMBER THEM NOW!" Thomas rushed at the Major General who was backpedaling and in a burst of green light he disappeared and reappeared right behind the Major General. Quickly without noticing what happened, he grabbed Hughes by his neck and whispered to him.


    "Tell me, Hughes, what should I have done? Would I have told you then become a lab rat whose knowledge was more important than skillset? I kept silent knowing it would bring us into the war, hundreds of thousands are going to die, but I''ll be damned if I can''t save some of them."


    Thomas left the Major General down and freed him from his grip. Hughes smiled at Thomas, "Do you know what you''ve just done, son?"


    Thomas looked at the man, slightly bewildered.


    "You just used your powers in the fight." Hughes smiled at him, now things could truly begin.

 46 The Power of Flashing

    Thomas had been in Experimental Lab Two with Major General Hughes and the three scientists since his breakthrough earlier. Alan Turing had run into the lab with his strange headpiece that Thomas had to wear when they were monitoring his brainwaves, Bernard Katz came in with all of his complicated charts and papers, while Elaine Schubert was on standby, ready to take blood samples and other things for analysis. They were all excited, having watched Thomas "flash" past the Major General again.


    "This is..quite simply amazing. It is just as we predicted when we first began investigating his strange ability to travel between time lines, of course that was involuntary and this...this is all voluntary!" Doctor Katz was spraying saliva everywhere while ranting about how god-like Thomas''s abilities were.


    "You were right Doctor Katz, my device is reading that every time he activates his power, his Cerebellum is lighting up like a Christmas Tree! It is quite amazing. Usually activities involving the Cerebellum happen unconsciously, mostly during sleep. He is utilizing his Cerebellum consciously and actively to bring about this miracle!" Doctor Turing exclaimed! Doctor Turing was feverishly inputting data into the massive machine he assembled just an hour ago. He was getting more proficient at setting up his new technology which he has taken to calling a "computer". Given more time he could probably simplify it more and then it would just be a year or two before he could fabricate them on an industrial scale.


    "Hmm, I wonder if activating his powers, his potential, has somehow altered his blood, or perhaps something else within his body." Doctor Elaine mused as she shifted her stance to lean more against the glass partition they had set up in the lab. "We may see more bodily changes as his body adapts to let him wield this power more fluently, and more frequently as well."


    Meanwhile as the doctors were musing, Thomas was becoming more exhausted by profound use of his powers, sweat was gushing out of his body more and more as he used every ounce and every fiber of his being. He found it fascinating how it worked, he didn''t tunnel through space, there was no warping of the fabric of reality. He simply thought about being somewhere and he was there. Of course it had to be somewhere he could see, he couldn''t simply just appear in his quarters on the other side of the complex. Maybe with more practice and time, he''d be able to appear anywhere he wished as long as he could visualize it, just like his favorite super heroes.


    Of course, Thomas couldn''t begin to comprehend the amount of stress he was putting on his body. Neither did the doctors for one, they all thought it was marvelous, but in reality, Thomas was actually utilizing his muscles at twenty times their power to shift his mass from one spot to the next, it was instantaneous, much like a speeding bullet, but faster than the eye can see. Invisibly the damage was building up, no power was free, everything came with risks as well as rewards. Just as Thomas flashed one more time, he felt the muscles in his legs breaking apart, the pain was immense and the doctors all stared at him in alarm as he collapsed on the ground convulsing and screaming in pain. For Thomas, the pain lasted for what seemed like hours before he passed out, every muscle and fiber in his legs were stretching and tearing to pieces while simultaneously rebuilding themselves. His Cerebellum was acting at max power, quickly and efficiently utilizing his body''s self-repair at a faster rate than normal to build his muscles as quickly as they tear. His legs were strengthening themselves. He passed out in seconds after this occurred.


    "QUICK!!! SOMEBODY GET A STRETCHER!!" Doctor Elaine cried as she grabbed her medical tools, she always kept them on hand for emergencies like this. She quickly ran to Thomas and ripped off his shirt, she checked his pulse, it was steady, but there was no time to understand why. She checked his heartbeat and vitals, all steady and slightly above normal. She was absolutely confused, he should have had a far more elevated heartbeat, but something was keeping his body in check. She would need to x-ray his body with the new machine to find out what was wrong with him.


    Soon Thomas Conlin was loaded on to a stretcher carefully by two of the strongest soldiers in the base who were then sworn to secrecy by Major General Hughes at the highest levels of security. No one but Eisenhower and the two sponsors in the senate could make these two soldiers ever divulge what happened here. They were now under pain of death penalty should they reveal this to anyone else. They swiftly arrived at the medical facility and Thomas was loaded into the x-ray machine, his body was covered with a new heavy blanket like object. Something Doctor Katz insisted on using, it was made with special materials as he decided the x-ray machine could have radioactive properties, something he and another scientist were studying when they were theorizing about how nuclear power could affect the brain. Doctor Katz would never know how close his theories were to the realities of life and his insistence would save Thomas''s body in the future.


    As soon as they switched on the x-ray machine they noticed that the bones in his leg were constantly fracturing and rebuilding at an inhumanly possible rate.They all inferred that his musculature must be going through the same thing, they couldn''t possibly imagine how much pain he was in at that particular moment. Doctor Elaine showed a trace of sympathy for Thomas before she gathered herself, a needle, and some test tubes. She needed to take blood samples for science of course! Alan was taking in the data at extreme speeds, as much as he could record. Bernard was of course trying to hypothesize why the Cerebellum was acting this way since it was a gateway for dreams, but really he also didn''t have an answer, what he was seeing defied every scientific explanation in history. Everything that happened this day would be filed and sealed away for decades under the code-name: Flash. Rumors of what happened today would also spawn a new superhero based on supersonic speeds everyone would all later know as The Flash.

 47 Bodily Changes

    Thomas awoke in the dark, he wasn''t strapped to the bed this time, that was nice. He got off the bed, but immediately fell over, the lights suddenly came on, blinding his eyes. He squinted to try to make out what was going on, but all he could see was a blur, everything was fuzzy and white. His body felt...wrong. He tried to stand again, but he fell down just as fast.


    "Thomas, can you hear me?" The voice sounded like Doctor Elaine, but he couldn''t be sure, everything was just so messy, why was it so messy? "Thomas, listen to me very carefully. There was an accident while you were testing your new power. You''ve been unconscious for ten days, your body has been breaking itself down and rebuilding itself the entire time. We''re not quite sure to what extent, but you need to take things slowly. Can you nod your head for me?"


    Thomas looked up at the shadow in his light, it vaguely resembled the good doctor, it certainly smelled like her...wait, since when did she have a smell? One thing at a time Thomas, you''ve got this! He slowly nodded his head...he can at least nod his head!


    "Okay, now I am going to need you to close your eyes, don''t think about anything, just relax."


    Thomas closed his eyes, the darkness felt better, it was cool and soothing against the bright lights on the outside.Things started getting a little fuzzy again, it felt nice and warm.


    "Thomas! Thomas! Don''t fall asleep!" An insistent voice from outside was buzzing around him. It was disturbing his rest. On instinct his hand casually flew out to make the buzzing go away. There was a scream, a yelp, and then silence. Thomas slid into a blissful, warm, and fuzzy sleep brought about by his own body''s need to continue changing.


    An hour later Doctor Elaine was in a bed of her own, her arm was strapped across her body and a gauze cast. On trying to keep Thomas from falling into another coma she attempted to rouse him, but who would have though his strength would be great enough to fling her against the opposite wall. The impact broke her arm and there was a small fracture in her skull, but that was nothing to her, instead she was feeling worried about Thomas. The other two doctors were on both sides of her bed, she was propped into a sitting position so she could better speak with them.


    "Perhaps we shouldn''t have roused him from his coma as of yet, it was perhaps a bad idea." Doctor Katz spoke first.


    "Indeed, this may complicate things, the Senator is getting impatient, we can''t tell him about Thomas either, he may want to use him as a lab rat to try to replicate his abilities." Doctor Turing mused, he of course had the greatest knowledge of politicians having met several in the course of his Doctorate.


    "Not necessarily," interjected Elaine. " Just because he shows interesting qualities and powers doesn''t mean they can be replicated, even we can''t explain them and the government put us three in charge of anything science as far as this facility is concerned. We must be able to give them something though. Perhaps a few blood samples for their pets to examine?"


    "I think that would be best, but how are we supposed to get any samples? Needles keep breaking on his arms, and I''d rather not try to shoot a bullet through them." Doctor Katz was puzzled.


    "X-ray shows that his musculature and bone structure have been greatly enhanced, beyond that of a normal human, especially in his legs, that''s where the greatest amount of change has happened. I''m not sure a regular nine-millimeter could penetrate his legs, but definitely his arms. We must wait until he comes out of the coma, it appears even his olfactory and ocular senses have been greatly heightened, not even Doctor Katz could tell to what extent. It looks like we will need to bring in an Ocular Specialist, perhaps we can petition Major General Hughes. This one is far above our heads." Alan Turing pointed out the data he''d recorded down, which Doctor Katz had also discussed with him overnight. Both were showing signs of fatigue, though they were way too excited to care at the moment.


    "You''re both right, this is bigger than the three of us can handle, although I specialize in generalizing, there is a limit to what I can do." Doctor Elaine admitted.


    --------------------------


    Major General Hughes hung up the phone on his desk and sighed. This had been one hell of a week, the Senators and Eisenhower had been breathing down his neck demanding status reports the moment they heard about Thomas falling into a coma after activating his powers. There was nothing he could do, the attempt to forcefully awaken Thomas had ended in abject failure with his top medical officer lying in bed with a broken arm and a fractured skull. He rubbed his temple, things were getting a bit dicey. They needed Thomas up and about, now that he had activated some control over his powers, they wanted the special unit up and running within the month.


    Apparently Command had decided on their first course of action in the war against Japan and Germany. They were going to simultaneously strike in the Pacific and Africa. It was a brilliant maneuver and he had yet to be filled in on the plan, but before either plan could be carried out, they needed Thomas up and running to do a few behind the scenes actions that would make everything go a lot smoother.


    Just an hour ago in fact, the two doctors who could still run around unimpeded came to his office with a rather peculiar demand. They needed someone who specialized in the body''s senses, particularly those of sight, smell, and sound. It seems they discovered something new about Thomas, but that''s the rub. They couldn''t do anything because it was out of their field of specializations. So he had to make a phone call and pull a few strings. Now sitting on his desk were three different folders, all three doctors, top of their fields in fact. The question was, who should he pick?

 48 Awakening

    Thomas awoke to a darkened medical room, and he was once again strapped to his bed, but this time he was strapped with iron chains.


    "What the fuck," he whispered, but the voice didn''t sound like his own. It was deeper and more masculine, he sounded more like an action movie star than he does himself. He rattled the iron chains of his bed, the bed groaned. Wait, since when did he become this strong?


    "I really wouldn''t break the bed if I were you," a voice off to his left sounded in his ear. He turned to look and it was Doctor Elaine, she was also laying in a bed of her own, wait, why could he see her so clearly? It was pitch dark in the medical room, technically he shouldn''t have been able to see anything at all.


    "Can you see me, Captain?" Elaine asked.


    "Clear as day, Doc." Thomas replied. "How did I end up this way?"


    "You don''t remember anything do you?" Elaine was astonished. At the same time she pushed a yellow button on the side of her bed.


    "No, not a thing." Thomas admitted, it bothered him greatly. He should have been able to remember more, but no matter how much he thinks about it, he can''t recall the moment that landed him here. Whatever it was, it has something to do with why he feels so different. Before he could ponder anything further the lights in the room went on, but they weren''t blinding. His eyes instantly adjusted to the bright lights which shined like the afternoon sun. The door burst open and Major General Hughes walked in with three armed escorts and three scientists, one of whom he doesn''t know at all.


    "Captain, I''m sure you''ll excuse me for the armed escort, but we can''t afford what happened last time." Major General Hughes stated, he was looking older than the last time Thomas saw him. He also got a haircut, so it was regulation, but still completely gray. Last time Thomas saw him there weren''t as many lines in his face, the Major General was getting older, that or he had a lot of stress piled on. The soldiers he brought in with him were all stone-faced, not a single thought or emotion could be read from them. Alan Turing and Doctor Katz were chatting with a third colleague, which again, Thomas didn''t recognize.


    "It''s no problem at all, Major General, but if you wouldn''t mind removing these chains? They are a tad bit uncomfortable." Thomas lightly suggested. He yanked on one of the iron chains and it snapped, sending shards and pieces flying. "Oh, well, I didn''t mean for that to happen, I guess I''ll just do it myself."


    The entire group watched with shock and surprise written on their faces as Thomas snapped all of the iron chains with little effort and got out of the bed. He then stretched and every bone in his body audibly popped, everyone in the room could hear it. It was a very powerful sound.


    "Sir, I don''t think we''d be of any help if something were to go wrong." One of the soldiers pointed out.


    "You''re quite right, I think this is beyond all expectations, you three are dismissed." Hughes waved his hand and the three soldiers saluted before marching out of the room.


    So, you are Thomas? Most famous specimen I hear?" The third scientist walked up to him, eager to examine him. He was of Russian descent, that much was clear. Not only did his voice have that certain inflection, but that majestic beard on his face also spoke of Russian heritage. "I am Doctor Sokolov, but you may call me Pyetr. If you find that hard to pronounce like these other two yokels, you may call me Peter. I find that name to be unflattering and unsophisticated though."


    "Who are you calling unsophisticated you milk-drinking Russkie!" Alan Turing called out, his face full of indignation.


    "While it''s true I drink milk from the bear, but you British still wee on your children." Doctor Sokolov let out a hearty laugh and turned to Thomas. "Let''s see those eyes of yours, eh?"


    Thomas watched as the Russian doctor took out a number of implements from a bad he was carrying. They were of weird shapes and one of them even had a small light attached to it. Certainly nothing Thomas had ever seen before. The other doctors also looked on in interest, these tools were quite new to them as well.


    "Okay Thomas, I am going to begin!" Doctor Sokolov exclaimed as he flourished an instrument before him. It had a long thin needle and it was attached to a medical vial. "Do not be afraid, I m just going to take some ocular fluid from both of your eyes, this won''t hurt! In fact, be a man, like me! I wrestle bears in my free time! Hahahaha!"


    Thomas sat absolutely still as the "Eye Doctor" went about his business, and he was right, it didn''t actually hurt. Soon the Russian doctor had the two samples he needed. "Excellent quality this batch, clearest ocular fluid I''ve seen! We will discover what makes your eyes tick in no time at all! We''ll have the sensitive "man-boy" over there conduct some numbers with these" Sokolov whispered in a not so quiet conspiratorial tone with Thomas.


    "Hey! I AM NOT A MAN-BOY!" Alan Turing flustered with embarrassment.


    "We were not talking about you, but if you are so eager to defend yourself from such a statement, be our guest and take up the title! Hahahaha!" Sokolov laughed heartily and even the rest of the group were all smiles. "Okay Thomas, we''ve got some more work to do, I want you to look over here...okay and now over here...." Doctor Pyetr waved one hand this way and that way, trying to figure the range of vision that Thomas had. He was astounded by the results, but nothing would be more astonishing than the trials they would later have him go through in order to test his body to the limits.

 49 The Limits of One Man

    Thomas was given the green light to move around, albeit slowly, and he wasn''t allowed to shake anyone''s hands or salute for fear of damaging someone else or himself. The group, Doctor Elaine included, moved to Experimental Lab Three. It was one of the labs that Thomas hand''t been to, he wasn''t authorized to visit. The scientists and the Major General all headed into the lab through a different door, Thomas alone entered through the main door. What he saw before him was probably the most shocking sight he had ever seen.


    In front of Thomas was an exact replica of the training camp he had been a part of so many months ago. Except everything was replaced with metal instead of wood, probably because he would break it all. Not even just regular iron metal, but steel. Everything was made out of steel. A loudspeaker up in a corner he couldn''t really see crackled to life.


    "Thomas, welcome to The Playground, it''s an exact replica of what you went through before you came here. The only difference is that all of your fellow men have been replaced with fragile dummies. You have to complete every scenario with zero casualties either by your hand or through the simulation. Your strength is far beyond that of a regular man, we have to make you realize your own limits and gain control of your strength. This will be the last series of training, once you finish this, you''ll be sent off to war on your first operation. Do not worry, your company has already been formed, you hand-picked them remember? Operation Limits of One Man, officially begins!" Major General Hughes voice thundered over the intercom.


    Thomas looked at the first obstacle before him, it was relatively simple. On a wooden table lay some of the weapons he was going to utilize in the field, all he had to do was disassemble and reassemble each one within the time frame allotted. Although, he really hadn''t been practicing of late, so it might be a little tougher than normal. He approached the first weapon on the table, it was a standard M-Nineteen-Eleven Forty-Five Caliber Semi-Automatic Pistol, an American classic. It wasn''t hard for Thomas to disassemble, he took of the slide, the springs, the receiver, soon enough eh ad the whole thing in pieces.


    Next he tried to swiftly reassemble the pistol, but with a small crunch, the spring for the chamber was in pieces. He was a lot stronger than the though he was. Luckily the table had a second pistol so he disassembled that one, and this time he gingerly handled the spring as if it would break like a toothpick. He successfully reassembled the pistol, he cocked the slide back, safety was off, he thumbed the trigger. Click! The sidearm was in perfect working order, he set it down. The whole process took him a minute and a half, that''s too long.


    He moved on to the only other weapon on the table, it was a grease gun, standard German arms. It took him seconds to disassemble it, and almost just as long to reassemble it, he had to of course be careful with the smaller pieces lest they break, but the total time was still less than a minute. He moved on to the next obstacle course, which really wasn''t much, it was just there to test his sturdiness. He ran through a field of gunfire as regular small arms fire bounced off of him. He wasn''t really immune to the bullets, most spots that were hit bruised almost instantly, and any spots hit again were penetrated, not completely, but enough to make him start bleeding.


    By the end of that death run, there were tiny little rivers flowing across his arms and chest, scarlet in color. There were a few test tubes on the table at the end of the course and he could well guess who wanted the samples. He filled two bottles and smashed the rest, it didn''t feel right, giving out hi blood like that. Of course up in the observation room he made a lot of people unhappy. Not that he really cared, he didn''t want anyone to try to replicate him. Thomas understood that having just one of him around was a cheat code of sorts, what if they tried to make more of him? They might kill people in the process, and that was not okay in his book.


    Soon enough he got through most of the obstacle courses with ease, they were designed to test the limits of his strength. There was one course where he had to continuously flash in order to save some of the dummies from dying in insidious ways, such as frag grenades, drowning, or executions. That was pretty exhausting and he needed a few minutes to rest after that course. There was an obstacle course where he had to shake hands with the dummies, and every hand he broke exploded. His hand was just a mess of splinters and small blood rivers. It took him ten dummies before he could shake hands without them breaking. It was for his own good of course, what if he had to shake the hand of a non-combatant or a civilian? He would literally reduce their hands to fractured bones and muscles.


    By the end of the obstacle course he felt he was more than ready to take on the world. Normally it would take someone a lot longer to get used to their new strengths, but if he couldn''t adapt with all the preparations they had made before hand, he might as well just become a lab rat. He wouldn''t be saving anyone, new lease on life or not. Now he was ready to take the fight to the enemy, and not only that, but he would also discover how he came back from the dead. After all, if it happened in his old timeline, then surely it could happen here...could it not?


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 50 The New Outfi

    After the successful obstacle course training, Thomas was then escorted to another room, it was a wide auditorium. He was then asked to sit in front with the Major General and the rest of the doctors. Slowly many people began to file into the auditorium, after about five minutes the auditorium was full. There was no one standing, there were just the right amount of seats for everyone as if this had all been carefully planned out. Some of the people were even recognizable, there was Smith, McLaney, and the infamous McSnickers, all of them seem to have put on more muscle and tone than before. McSnickers even sported a scar over his right eye, it was very visible and made him look ferocious, especially when combined with the scowl he now seemed to permanently wear on his face.


    McLaney was just as tall before, but he had also put on more muscle, the resulting look made him imposing to stand in front of, almost like a giant. Smith was still as short as ever, if a bit more stocky and bulky in his arms. You could say he almost looked like a dwarf from those fantasy comics they were making nowadays. In short, almost everyone that filed into the auditorium today would make up the world''s greatest company. In the future, joining the company would be the highest honor an individual could accomplish, bringing great fortune and prestige to their families.


    Major General Hughes straightened his tie and walked confidently up to the stage in the auditorium from his seat in the front, a podium had been prepared as well as a microphone. On his shoulder was another newly adorned star, making his two star Major General rank upgrade to Lieutenant General, just one rank below General. It was a major upgrade, the fact that he was now Lieutenant General means he has rendered some sort of service befitting of the new rank. Indeed he has, looking out across the auditorium, he smiled. Seeing the Lieutenant General smile brought absolute shock to everyone''s faces. No one had seen him smile since they met him, with exception of Thomas who had seen him smile once he had activated his powers.


    "Alright boys, let''s get down to business. Official starting today, we will be joining the war effort!" Hughes led with this opening remark as he knew some of the company was already bored to tears of training. It brought a few unrestrained hoots and applause, Hughes let it pass. "


    "Now, we have a lot of ground to cover today, some things we will be going over. The company name, our Area of Operations, our Rules of Engagement, who you will report to. In short, everything you need to know. We will also be going over our first operation as a company, which I am sure you will all be excited to be a part of. Now, down to the brass tacks boys. Make no mistake, the eyes of the world are upon us, we are the first unit to be put together for the express purpose of what I am going to explain to you here in a few minutes. Now as for the name of our outfit, we will be known ironically as Reaper Company. Your Captain came up with explanation that we will be reaping lives to save ours. He''s not exactly wrong, it''s almost exactly what you will be doing. Which brings me to our next topic of discussion. Our Area of Operations. It''s the entire theater of war! All of it! The Pacific, The Eastern Front, The European Front! Everything the Germans and Japanese are touching, that is our Area of Operations." Hughes paused to look at all of them, he was filled with immense pride. They had all gotten this far with their own determination and willpower. Not a single chosen soldier had ever once quit, they were all going to fight for something greater now.


    "This is perhaps what will please you guys the most, as you know standard Rules of Engagement which were enacted after The Great War, don''t shoot medical soldiers, easily identifiable by the red crosses on their helmets, take prisoners when the enemy offers their own surrender. Never target civilians and civilian structures and hospitals. Throw all of that out of the window, you are given the green light! You will be operating behind enemy lines at all times on missions of the utmost secrecy, anyone or thing that could expose or be detrimental to you mission are to be eliminated. Watch out especially for children, now this might sound horrid and immoral to all of you, but children often make the greatest spies. So to combat this, any child who sees you while performing a mission or is actively spying on you, are to be removed from the scene and kept as captives until such a time as the war is over. This is the much better and more moral alternative to killing the children."


    There was a fair amount of grumbling in the auditorium, but everyone came to the conclusion that capturing the children was a much better option than just killing them outright. Children are the future after all, and if everyone starts targeting the children, who will be left to lead the future?


    "Now, without further ado, let me introduce to you, your commanding officer, Captain Thomas Conlin." Hughes left his spot at the podium and returned to his seat whilst Thomas got up from his, slightly nervous, and headed to the podium. From the podium he looked out among the members in the auditorium and he saw Smith, McLaney, and McSnickers, he was impressed with how much they''ve appeared to have grown. It was time to start his address, there would be time for greetings later.


    "I am Captain Thomas Conlin, and although only a few of you have had the pleasure of my company, I have had the pleasure of yours." Thomas began, he wasn''t as nervous now, he was in his element, he knew what he was doing. This was a small step towards his future plans. "Every single one of you are here today because I hand-picked you. For your skills and your various attitudes. It doesn''t matter where you''ve come from or where you were born, because as of oh-six-hundred today, if you weren''t before, then you are all now American citizens. Furthermore you are all apart of my unit company of Reapers." Thomas stopped to pause and gathered himself. Someone in the auditorium stood up.


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    "Sir, other than your rank, which is higher than any of ours, what makes you uniquely qualified to lead us all? Why not some other high-ranking officer like a Major or a Colonel which would be usual?" The man standing had a valid question. Thomas answered in kind. Quickly he gathered his power and flashed over to the man, quickly grabbing him and then ramming him against the wall, not hard enough to break anything, but he''ll definitely have a bruise in the morning. He looked at the man closely, it was the commando specialist from the dossiers, he really didn''t stand out, he was plain looking and had short cropped hair.


    "Do you think me unqualified to lead you now?" Thomas looked the man dead in the eye, causing him to involuntarily shiver, much like when a tiger locks eyes with its prey.


    "No, sir." The commando replied.


    "What''s your name?" Thomas demanded.


    "Richard Haggins, sir."


    "Return to your seat, Corporal Haggins." Thomas immediately reprimanded and demoted the commando. He then flashed back to his spot at the podium.


    "You will report to me, in the field, after missions, if I want a status update you give me one. As you have seen, my authority granted to me by our very own Lieutenant General Hughes, is not to be challenged. You do your job well, you''ll get rewarded, you do poorly, you piss me off, you''ll end up like poor Richard over there." Thomas paused to let his words sink in. "Now, let''s get to the mission, I''m sure you''re all eager to find out what it is we will be doing."

 51 A Quiet Star

    Somewhere in the Pacific Ocean not far from an seemingly insignificant island, a small fleet of boats are silently rowing through fog and mist. Their destination, the quiet island covered in what looks like an impenetrable fog in front of them.


    The boats were in a spread out V-formation, much like a flock of ducks during migration. The boat in the lead carried the forward elements of the team, Captain Thomas Conlin for whom the smell of the ocean and the salty taste of the water is something he will never forget. It may be another ocean on another side of the world, but it all taste the same to him.


    Along with Thomas, he had Specialist Smith, one of the original members from boot camp, Corporal Higgins, the same Commando who challenged his authority back in the briefing room, and his last squad member was a heavy weapons specialist, Marlon Freedman.


    Marlon Freedman was a tall, muscular black man. His head was shaved completely and his face was that of someone you might meet guarding the door to a club or a bar, unforgettable. His arms were thick with muscle, almost like small tree trunks and his legs were very much the same. Together, these four men made up Alpha Squad of Reaper Company.


    The entirety of Reaper Company had come the this Pacific island for one reason, to start a base of operations in the Pacific theater. They brought along some of their gear, once they''ve cleared the island of any Japanese forces, they were going to radio in the USS Tombstone, it was a fairly new ship that had been built just for Reaper Company.


    It had the latest in all technology, according to what they could dig out of Thomas/Kincaide''s journal. That''s not to say it couldn''t be destroyed, it was after all, just a frigate. There was no need to build Reaper Company a whole destroyer or even a carrier. It would be just slightly tougher than most frigates to destroy.


    It was also the fastest ship in the navy arsenal now, with a top speed of thirty knots. It was even armed with heavier armaments than most destroyers, thanks to the new stabilizing technology they''ve managed to decode.


    Thomas only had three requirements when they built in in the first place; speed, armor, and weaponry. He wanted it to be fast and tough, while also dishing out damage of it''s own. Ordinarily it would be impossible, but the engineers behind the ship itself pulled some ingenious ideas out of the journal.


    It would be almost impossible to go through the entire list of things they''d done to ship itself without knowledge of the mechanics behind a ship, which Thomas most certainly did not have, so they just told him these few key features.


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    Thomas held a pair of binoculars in his hands and a plastic-sealed map in his other. According to the map and the course they set, there was an isolated beach up ahead on the island. As for the island itself, it was a monitoring station for the Japanese. They monitored ship communications in the surrounding fifty miles of ocean.


    According to intelligence, there were three Japanese structures on the island itself. The first was the monitoring array, which was at the highest point of the island. The second was the communications hub for the entire island, taking that out would cripple communications island-wide. The third was a small airstrip with a small bunker that housed a Japanese recon plane. Intelligence wasn''t too clear on what type since they only had photos from a night time reconnaissance mission.


    They did have a fourth objective however, somewhere on the island a few scouts that came ashore a couple days before went missing. It was a squad of three well versed in spying. It was considered a secondary objective however, the main objective was to take out the three different compounds.


    The boats finally reached the shore and the company silently pulled them on to the beach before covering them with tarp. Then to prevent any sort of patrol that might come out this way from spotting them too easy, they took sand from around the beach and piled it onto the tarps, making them look like little sand dunes. Beachhead was secure, Thomas signaled for the company to rally on him. His fist was in the air, thumb inwards, rotating clockwise in the universal signal for rallying. Once they all gathered, Thomas began his quick briefing .


    "Reaper Company listen up, this is the first shot of the war and it''s quiet and in the dark. We have until oh-eight-hundred to secure this island. We''re going with the original plan. Alpha Squad will take the communications hub out to ensure radio silence across the island. Bravo and Charlie squad will link up together at Delta Point after taking separate routes, you will then proceed to take out the airfield. Remember, wait for the all clear and make sure the recon plane stays intact! Delta squad will move together with Echo and Foxtrot to ensure that the monitoring station falls silent, since it''s supposed to be the biggest compound on the island. The rest of you stay here on the beach and make sure our equipment is secure." Thomas paused for a second and looked at the determined faces of the men and women under his command. "Remember, radio silence until the all-clear is given. Operation Mothball is a go!"


    The squads gathered their gear and silently disappeared into the jungle, everyone left on the beach watched as the jungle swallowed them one by one. Leaving nothing buck darkness and foreboding silence in their wake. It was going to be a long night, but come morning the fires of war will have started and the Japanese would be in for one rude awakening.

 52 Through the Jungle

    The jungle brush snatched at Thomas''s legs and the tall trees with canopies that covered the skies gently caressed his face with broad leafy branches. He already hated this place, the musty smell that lingered, the soft ground underneath that wanted to swallow his boots, the hot moisture in the air that stuck to his uniform and caused him to sweat. The rest of his squad except for Corporal Freedman grumbled about how terrible the island was.


    "Freedman how can you stand this heat? It''s like dog''s breath!" Smith complained.


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    "Grew up in Louisiana, get used to it." Freedman Rumbled.


    "Not the friendliest chap around, eh Captain?" Smith said.


    "Keep your eyes peeled Smith, cut the chatter." Thomas replied, sweeping his eyes around, looking for any Japanese forward elements.


    For the next hour and a half, the squad slowly made their way through the jungle. They couldn''t tell, but the moon was directly overhead. They had less than eight hours to finish this operation. Along the way to their destination Smith fell into several different holes of different heights, disguised as ground that was softer than usual. Freedman fished him out every time of course. Corporal Higgins kept imagining trees to be Japanese sentries, putting himself on edge. Eventually, Thomas had to call a short stop to rest before they could move on. The squad was way too tense and would most likely miss their shots should a firefight break out.


    "Alright, we''ll rest here." Thomas ordered, the came into a small clearing of sorts, they had a good eye view of the jungle in any direction. The squad broke out small meal packs from their gear, nothing heavy. It was just a few crackers, some dried fruit, and some jerky. Just enough to keep their systems going. They couldn''t make any coffee or have any fire at all, that would be asking for death. They all drank some of the water that was in their canteens instead, it would have to suffice until the operation was over. After another ten minutes, Thomas signaled for the squad to gather their belongings. They quickly buried their trash in a two feet deep hole, and set out into the jungle once more.


    After another hour of walking, they finally laid eyes on their target, the communications compound. Thomas signaled the squad to stop with a half-raised open palm hand. He signaled the commando forward.


    "Sir!" Higgins said.


    "Higgins, I want eyes on that compound." Thomas pointed to the compound above them. "I''ll give you fifteen minutes, I want to know how many are up there, and their positions."


    "Yes, sir!" Higgins smartly saluted and then scampered off to the compound.


    "Do you think he''ll get spotted sir?" Smith asked.


    "No, I brought the best for this mission, he''s the finest in his field." Thomas explained. "This is pretty much what he does."


    The two of them fell silent, waiting for Higgins to return. Twelve minutes later, Higgins came out of the brush, scaring the hell out of Smith.


    "Report." Thomas snapped.


    "Sir, reporting in!" Higgins saluted. "There are two and a half dozen hostiles spread between the buildings and the compound perimeter. I couldn''t access the main communications building, but I assume there are more inside, sir! They have a lookout in four different towers at each corner of the compound, there''s two guards posted outside the communications building. The rest are either sleeping in the barracks or walking the perimeter on patrol!"


    "Excellent work Higgins." Thomas turned to the rest of the squad, "Okay listen up! We are doing this quietly, no noise. Each of us is going to take one corner of the compound and work our way in. If it goes loud, rush the communications building, we can''t risk them alerting the rest of the island. First, get the sentries in the tower, second the guards patrolling the perimeter, then creep through the barracks and kill the sleeping soldiers. No one is to be left alive, understand?"


    "Sir!" The squad saluted in unison.


    "Get to it squad, we''re burning night light." Thomas ordered.


    Like ghosts, the squad silently dispersed to the four corners of the communications compound. Thomas took the far northwest side of the compound because he could get there earlier. He crept through the underbrush, sticking low to the ground. As he got closer to the compound he could see search lights in the towers, they weren''t moving, just positioned at static angles. As he got closer he could make out a lone sentry standing just outside the fence, a prime opportunity to enter. He quickly flashed to the sentry, a green glow surrounding his body, it went unnoticed by anyone as it was too fast to see and could easily be mistaken for a bunch of fireflies playing with each other. As he moved his hand went to his knife, a standard four-and-a-half inch steel blade with a fine wooden grip. Swiftly drawing his blade, he appeared right behind the sentry.


    Thomas clamped a hand over the sentry''s mouth, his moist fetid breath warming his hand. The sentry looked wide-eyed at the knife in Thomas''s hand and tried to struggle out of his grip. Thomas slowly drew the knife across the sentry''s neck, making sure to bite deep so as to cut through his jugular, therefor disabling his ability to call for help as he bleeds out. Rivers of blood gush from the gap that Thomas is slowly leaving and the sentry gurgles as he tries to call for help to no avail. Thomas then dropped the sentry to the floor and dragged him to the nearby cover of some bushes while he lay there choking on his own life''s blood for the last two minutes of his life.


    Thomas looked at his dirtied hands, it was a clean kill so there was no blood on his hands, but he felt like there was. The blood of thousands. That''s how many he''s probably killed so far, and he''s going to have to kill thousands more before this war is over. He put those thoughts aside, they were useless and he could think about them after the war. Right now, he had a mission to complete. He darted through the fence that marked the perimeter, slowly creeping his way across the compound. He would hide behind crates of materials when a sentry was coming by, or he would crawl across the ground in the thick jungle grass. Eventually he reached his designated watch tower. He carefully and slowly climbed up the tower''s ladder, and then he was at the top. The guard on duty was leaning against one of the tower supports while surveying the land below, his back was to Thomas.


    Thomas swiftly crept up behind the sentry and then clamped a hand over his mouth while simultaneously dragging him to the ground out of sight. The Japanese man tried to resist to no avail as Thomas was infinitely stronger. He swiftly punched three holes in the mans throat and one in his heart with his knife. The Japanese sentry went limp as he bled out in seconds, staining the floor red, although in the darkness it looked black. Thomas took his spot as sentry and quickly surveyed the land below. Most of the rest of the squad had encountered enemies and dispatched them with no difficulty. Time for the second phase of the plan.

 53 When Plans Go Astray

    Thomas started to descend from the lookout tower, things were proceeding according to his plan. At least on his end, he could only hope the other squads were doing just as good. If all went well they would have this place by sunrise at the latest, he was of course expecting some resistance. He jumped the last two feet to the ground, he didn''t have to worry about muscle strain in his legs because his physique was unnatural to say the least. He landed on the ground in almost complete silence, he had taped his gear down so that it wouldn''t rattle while moving and he had the rest of the company do the same. They couldn''t afford to be spotted because someone didn''t stow their gear properly.


    He crept around the tower and stayed out of sight, the next soldier was in plain view. Slowly, but surely he got closer and closer until he was standing right behind the soldier, who didn''t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. Thomas drew his knife quietly and dispatched the sentry just like the other two, in silence and blood. Just as Thomas was about to move out, a flare went off in the distance and lights all around the compound came on.


    "God damn it!" Thomas raged. "What in the hell happened to our cover?!"


    Thomas pulled out his Thompson Sub-machine Gun and loaded the first magazine into it. He modified his magazines to carry thirty rounds of ammunition instead of the standard twenty, he wanted an edge in combat and they don''t weigh anything to him so he could load them just as fast as a regular magazine. Japanese troops came crawling out of all of the buildings and Thomas got behind a set of crates before taking aim at a squad.


    "GO LOUD!" Thomas thundered, his voice carrying so that the rest of the squad could hear him no matter where they were. Suddenly as if they were ghosts, the rest of his squad silently appeared from the shadows and opened fire on the confused Japanese soldiers. They didn''t stand a chance as a haze of rifle fire tore them to shreds. Numerous bloody holes appeared in their bodies as they jerked with each bullet that hit them, finally collapsing into a bloody leaking heap on the ground when the squad ran out of bullets to fire in their current magazines.


    Thomas and his squad methodically cleared all of the buildings before centering in on the communications building. It was two stories high and made entirely of concrete, the windows all had bars on them and were small so you couldn''t climb through them. Thomas signaled for them to stack on the door before pulling out a fragmentation grenade. He nodded to Marlon who then proceed to kick the door open before quickly pulling back. Thomas lobbed his now armed grenade through the open doorway before hearing alarmed yells and then an explosion which sent tremors through the ground.


    They rushed through the open doorway and entered a world of dust and smoke that threatened to choke them with every breath they took. Visibility was at less than five feet ahead and every so often a Japanese soldier stumbled out of the gloom and right into the squad, at which point Smith stabbed them to death, no sense in wasting bullets on a disorientated enemy. They cleared each room of the bottom floor, but since none of them could read Japanese Kanji, they couldn''t make any sense of the papers scattered around each room. As they neared the stairs to the next floor, visibility started to greatly improve.


    There wasn''t any place to stack up next to the stairs, instead the moved up the stairs single file and covering all of the angles. As soon as Smith''s head peeked over the top of the stairs gunfire erupted and Smith ducked down. A hail of bullets from Japanese rifles and sub-machine guns flew by over head. A grenade bounce through the doorway prompting everyone to freeze with terror, except for Thomas who knew what he had to do. Quickly he grabbed the grenade and flashed over the stairs in a green blur as quickly deposited the grenade into the laps of the Japanese defense who had barricaded the hallway with three metal tables from which they were firing into the stairwell. Then Thomas flashed back to the squad and pulled them backwards as the grenade went off.


    With a deafening roar that suggested more flammable object or explosives were upstairs, the grenade went off. Fire spewed out into the stairwell just above their heads, the flames were intense but they lasted only seconds as it got sucked back into the second floor as if there was a vacuum.


    "Damn, Captain!" Marlon complained, "Everything always have to be so dramatic when you do your green thing?"


    Thomas didn''t answer him, he only got up and headed into the second floor. It was a mess, part of the wall had been blown out, letting humid jungle air into the otherwise cool building. The metal tables were in scrap pieces all over the floor and there were bone fragments and blood stuck to the walls and ceiling. It looked like a scene straight out of hell with some of the blood dripping off the ceiling, sliding down the walls in rivers, or just pooling on the floor where the torn corpses of the defenders were. The rest of the squad followed Thomas and their jaws dropped. Smith even let go of his earlier snack all over the floor in a bout of retching and heaving.


    "Looks straight out of a Louisiana Swamp BBQ," commented Marlon.


    "Haven''t seen anything since my days in the trenches." Higgins added.


    "Fuck you two, being all fine and shit."Coughed Smith.


    "What about the Captain, why not him?" Higgins asked.


    "It''s the Captain, should''ve seen the shit he pulled off in boot camp." Smith replied.


    "Button it up, we''ve still got work to do." Thomas ordered as he slowly walked forward, his boots making squelching noises as he walked through the corpses. He checked the first room on the right, nothing in there, but a few desks and some papers. The second room was much of the same. Finally, they came upon the room with all of the radio equipment.


    "Marlon, Thermite." Thomas ordered.


    "Yes, sir!" Marlon replied with his gravelly voice as he rummaged through his pack. He found the Thermite and planted it on the various equipment. He put special portion on the ceiling where the antenna was connected. The squad exited the room and took cover down the hallway.


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    "Fire in the hole!" Thomas yelled after throwing a frag into the communications room.


    The resulting explosion shook the building and caused a huge explosion which could be seen for miles round the island. Japanese forces across the island went into a panic when they tried to radio for reinforcements or to find out about the conditions of the communications outpost. Little did they know that it was just the beginning of an hours long nightmare, which the Japanese navy would later decode a series of last second transmissions that would only state one word over and over. Demons.

 54 What Can Go Wrong

    Thomas and the rest of his squad surveyed the aftermath of their fight over the communications compound. There was thick smoke pouring out of the broken wall of the second floor of the communications building. Fragments of concrete littered the ground and the smell of charred flesh assailed the nostrils of the squad. It was a sickly sweet smell, it was meat charred beyond recognition, but knowing that it was human meat...that made it all the more sickening. Marlon, Higgins, and Smith rallied around Thomas awaiting further instructions.


    "All right men, you know as well as I do that the stealth portion of this operation is FUBAR." Thomas said. "We will proceed to the next objective with haste. That flare came from the airfield, so something must have gone wrong with the squad there. Weapons free, if it moves and it doesn''t identify, shoot it. Move out!"


    Thomas motioned for them to move out with his hand pointed straight like an arrow, all five fingers aligned. They quietly gathered their packs from where they left them and took up formation. Since stealth was no longer an option Marlon took the lead with his shoulder slung Browning Fifty Caliber Machine Gun. For others it might be an impossibility to carry such a heavy weapon, let alone fire it, but for the six-foot-three black man who was all muscle? It was not a problem at all. The only other person capable of firing it from the hip was Thomas.


    After Marlon it was Higgins, then Thomas, and finally, Smith who took up the rear. This was the most optimal formation unless they were clearing a building, then Smith would be lead. Being the shortest man among the bunch, Smith was less likely to be hit inside a building due to his small stature. They quickly made their way through the jungle in the dark. The dense foliage did little to impede their quick progress borne of haste. Soon they reached the edge of the jungle and the meeting point for their squad, Bravo, and Charlie. It soon became apparent that the airfield wasn''t going to be taken any time soon.


    In front of them lay what remained of Bravo and Charlie squads. There was blood everywhere. It was pooling beneath the fresh bodies, dripping from the tree branches, and marking the foliage. It looks like they were torn to shreds by gunfire, but whose?


    "Sir, take a look at this," Higgins called over to Thomas. "I found something, might interest you."


    Thomas made his way over to Higgins, careful not to step on their dead, they deserved a burial when they were done with this island. As soon as Thomas reached Higgins, his skin started crawling and he clenched his fists.


    "Wasn''t it only supposed to be our team on this island?" Thomas stared down at the corpse of a British Commando still holding a Sten Mark One Sub-Machine Gun. In his other hand he was holding a standard flare signal gun. "Looks like our people managed to kill at least one, but they were still taken by surprise. We can also guess where that flare came from."


    "So then it wasn''t our people that managed to blow this operation then?" Higgins asked.


    "No, Corporal, it was not." Thomas answered. Then he signaled for the squad to gather around. "Alright listen up, we are not alone on this island. It seems there is heavy British Commando presence. Higgins, high-tail it back to the beach and relay this to command. Marlon, Smith, we''re going to forge on ahead to the airfield, our main goal is to keep the aircraft from getting damaged while taking control. The Japanese forces will be on high alert, especially after our stunt at the compound. Delta and Echo should have started their assault on the main tower by now. If all goes well we should be in for some good chow and rest. Form up, Higgins you''re dismissed."


    "Sir!" Higgins saluted and then melted into the jungle like a ghost. Thomas and his squad got back into the same formation as before but this time Higgins wasn''t present. Alerted to the presence of commandos on the island, they were forced to be careful and quiet. Every so often Marlon would signal them to stop, they would all drop to one knee, rifles out, and scan the surrounding environment.


    It took the squad an hour and a half to get from the compound to the airport, that was including the quick ten minute stop at the rendezvous point. The closer to the airport they got, the louder the sounds of gunfire became. As the approached a small cliff overlooking the airport they could see the Japanese barricaded on the first and second floor of the largest building in the airfield. They were dug in behind sandbags and exchanging fire with what seems to be a British commando squad. Albeit there were three members, that one dead guy must have been their forth.


    The strangest thing that Thomas noted was that although the squad was out in the open, bullets didn''t really affect them much. They were getting hit, but they weren''t going down. On closer inspection, on of the commando''s arm was just hanging limply at his side, dripping blood in rivers. Another one was dragging one of their legs behind them.


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    "They can''t feel pain," Thomas muttered under his breath. "Smith, assemble the Springfield!"


    After hearing the order, Smith opened his pack and took out various gun parts. He assembled them expertly and within a minute a fully assembled Springfield Sniper Rifle was handed off to Thomas. Thomas loaded the rifle one bullet at a time into the chamber until he loaded five bullets, adjusting the scope for distance. He took careful aim at the commando who seemed to be the leader. The shot was lined up, he held his breath, and then he squeezed the trigger.

 55 Kill On Sigh

    The shot rang out loud and violent, even louder still was the silence that followed it. Thomas watched through the scope as the commando''s head went up in a puff of blood and bits of bone. The body fell down amidst a shower of the remaining blood, it was a clean hit and it seemed to do what it was intended to. The other two commandos backed off, giving each other covering fire as they tried to drag their headless leader''s body off. Thomas fired two warning shots at the commandos, who were then forced to abandon the corpse. They limped a strange sort of run, going as fast as their wounds could carry them, to the far side of the airfield. The Japanese defenders arose from their cover, bewildered as they tried to spot who took out their mysterious assailants.


    "Squads Delta and Echo should be finished soon. We need to get down there and finish what those strange commandos have started. Move out, men." Thomas ordered.


    Soon enough, the whole squad slid down the hill leaving a trail of flying dirt and dust clouds, soon enough they were amidst a hail of bullets as the Japanese defenders finally spotted them. The Japanese weren''t overly accurate, they missed every single bullet they fired, Thomas switched from sliding down the hill on the heel of his boots to sliding down on his ass.


    Peering through the scope as it bumped and weaved, he focused in on one of the Japanese defenders wielding a Type-Ninety-Eight Light Machine Gun with it''s thirty-five round banana magazine protruding out of the top. He could even make the slide bouncing back as it let out shell after shell, smoke faintly rising from the barrel as it started to take on a dim red tinge.


    There was no hesitation, the distance was only two-hundred yards, there would be no bullet drop. Thomas fired and let the rifle in his hands kick the recoil into his chest before coolly jumping to his feet and continuing to slide the less than fifty feet to the ground.


    The bullet storm from the defenders became less intense without their light machine gunner, enabling the squad to assault them that much faster.


    A grenade was thrown, an explosion was seen, heard, and felt. The cries and screams of dying men soon echoed out for a time, and then all was silent.


    Thomas and his squad took a look around, there was mostly devastation to be seen. The damage the commandos did was extensive, just by entering any building outside of the main hangar where the Japanese were defending one could tell that they didn''t stand a chance. Although there were five commando corpses recovered, the casualties the defenders accrued were horrendous. Not a single survivor could be found.


    The plane they were supposed to have acquired was the only thing left intact, and after checking out the onboard systems and to make sure everything worked short of taking off, Thomas had the squad gather the commando corpses. Out in the runway, six commando corpses lay side by side, each with various gaping wounds across their bodies. The curious thing was that these bodies didn''t bleed blood like they were supposed to. Instead, the blood sort of oozed in the gaping holes like a gel, seemingly stitching the body closed.


    "Get Squad Foxtrot on the radio, tell them we need our doctor," Thomas ordered. "There''s fuckery afoot."


    --------------------------------------------------------


    After fifteen minutes had passed, Doctor Elaine had arrived with two other soldiers in tow. They were, of course, her medical assistants. A doctor is only as good as her assistants she had once mused to Thomas. They had moved all of the bodies onto metal tables and brought a couple of wheeled cabinets out as per the doctor''s orders. She stood in front of the oozing bodies as they constantly stitched and repaired themselves in front of her, she frowned.


    "You know, Captain, this sort of thing isn''t within the realm of my expertise. I''m a neurologist and a brain surgeon, but without the other doctors here, I couldn''t even begin to tell you what''s going on with these bodies." Elaine sighed, "Honestly, there are only three or four doctors in the world who would be capable of something like this, and three of them are dead."


    "And the fourth?" Thomas inquired, he was genuinely curious. If the fourth one was not dead, and he was not working for the Allies at the onset of all this, then where was he.


    "If I am not mistaken, he should be imprisoned in one of MI-6''s most secure prisons." Eleanor answered. "Although I suppose in light of your own powers, they decided they could use his help in acquiring an asset of their own."


    "No shit Doc," he replied. "Though these don''t seem quite so complete. Almost as if this were a trial run and if that is the case then we are going to have to hunt down the other two commandos. We can''t give them time to reach their rendezvous and escape."


    Thomas turned around and barked for a direct line to the squads on the beach. "This is Captain Thomas to all squads, pull our equipment off the beach and secure it. There are three British Commandos on the island that must be hunted down. This is a kill on sight order, if you see them do not hesitate to engage. Be warned that they take an extreme amount of punishment and seem to regenerate, kill shots do not work. I say again, kill shots do not work. Aim for extremities and joints. Thomas out."


    Thomas turned to the rest of his assembled current company, "since we don''t where they are, we are going to have to set up a watch for tonight. I doubt this is something sanctioned by upper command as we have received no priority communications. I want double watches set up for tonight, two man pairs. Keep your eyes peeled. Our current mission is on hold until we deal with or find these guys. If my hunch is correct, they were assaulting this airfield for something they needed. Dismissed."


    Thomas sighed, it was going to be a long night and he couldn''t rest comfortable without knowing where the enemy was or even what they were. He turned his sight towards the main airfield command structure. There had to be something there for them to make an assault with just three men, and Thomas was going to be sure to find it.

 56 Speculations

    A while after the battle, Thomas had sent a runner back to the beach to bring the rest of the company to the airfield.


    Since they had their own communications system and could communicate with the USS Tombstone without the use of large external equipment, they had no need for the communications outpost that the Japanese had set up.


    They still sent a squad that arrived from from the USS Tombstone as a matter of course. Standard doctrine, even if they didn''t need the communications post, they still posted a guard in case there were any remaining Japanese hiding out in the jungle


    While the island itself wasn''t all too large, it was easily large enough for a couple of squads to hide in undetected. Rather than spend unnecessary time and wasting resources trying to find them, Thomas and the rest of command agreed on a decision to ignore them, but still stay cautious.


    In the few hours since the sun rose, many sandbag fortifications could be seen plugging the gaps in the concrete buildings at the airfield. The reason they needed to capture the airfield without damaging the aircraft in the hangar was because they needed its blackbox.


    The plane in the bunker was a slightly modified Aichi E13A Navy Type 0 reconnaissance aircraft. A current mainstay of the Japanese navy, this particular aircraft was used to scout Hawaii before the Attack on Pearl Harbor.


    Thus there was great interest in taking this tiny little island, otherwise it would have been ignored and the US Navy would most likely have started their attacks on the Atolls and the Phillipines as well as the surrounding countries that have been taken over by Japan.


    Of course, they would not have even known the plane was here if it was not for a Japanese spy they had caught snooping around their classified files.


    The spy was placed into a secret chamber and after several hours of grueling interrogation, had given up his whole spy network. Not that it amounted to much, most of the spies were practically nobodies, only one was even worth mentioning and that was only in passing.


    That one individual did give up information on this island, including defenses, location, and assets.


    That information made it''s way up the food chain and eventually into the hands of Lieutenant General Hughes. After mulling it over and discussing it with the others in his immediate circle, decided to assign capturing the island to Thomas and his company as a nice easy first assignment. Ease him into the rigors of command.


    Unfortunately it did not work out the way they wanted it to. Back in California at Area One, Lieutenant General Hughes was mulling over the information and picture evidence he received. It did not paint a pretty picture.


    Hughes was seated inside his office of course, and it was just as spartan as ever. The only difference being the amount of unread paperwork he had piled on his desk. He currently had a a file in his hands and a lit cigar lighting up his face in the bright office, a waft of smoke lazily drifting into the air from the tip.


    "British Commandos that regenerate slowly..." Hughes muttered to himself before puffing smoke out of his nose. In the months and weeks that followed the first time he met Thomas face to face, he had grown a rather resplendent mustache on his face. He was the true picture of military majesty, seated there in his office chair.


    He was still mulling it over when the door to his office opened and General Eisenhower confidently strode inside. Hughes immediately stood and saluted his superior office.


    "Sir!" He promptly said.


    "At ease, Hughes." Eisenhower replied. "There''s no need for formality between old friends is there?" Eisenhower looked around for an extra chair before Hughes offered him his own. He did not have any other seats because this is the first time Eisenhower has directly come to his office.


    "Let''s get down to brass tacks Hughes," Eisenhower began. "I am sure you have read the report by now."


    "Yes I have." Hughes quickly replied.


    "And what do you make of it?" Eisenhower asked.


    "I am not quite sure, Dwight." Hughes stroked his mustache and thought about it for a minute before giving out his own theory. "The fact that these...commandos were on the island is quite strange. We have no reports of the British operating in the Pacific theater. In fact, we have been working with the new Prime Minister...Churchill I think his name was? We have been working with him since his Labour party won over the Pro-Soviet party in the elections."


    "We have access to almost all of their top projects as we are collaborating with them. If it is not the British, then who is taking men, making almost unkillable monsters out of them, and dressing them up as British Royal Soldiers?"


    Eisenhower signed before replying, "Who indeed..."

 8 Conlin vs Daniels

    On the other side of the forest, McLaney and Smith had managed to get away from the guards and were slowly circling the forest. It took them five minutes to do so, but it seems that something happened, because it had been ten minutes, but there was no announcement that they had passed this course. There was of course a communication system set up so they could let recruits know when the ten minutes were up, but nothing was said.


    Suddenly the communications came on and from old broadcast speakers they couldn''t see, they heard the drill sergeant''s voice, "Welcome to hell boys! Normally it''d be a ten minute survival situation, but since recruits Conlin and Daniels get along with each other so well, I''ve decided to add a rule! The course doesn''t end until either Daniels or Conlin is eliminated, of course, the guards will still be patrolling, so if they catch you and take all of your team''s flags away, this also results in a fail!" Drill Sergeant Lloyd''s cruel laughter could be heard across the course. "You think the Germans will go easy on you? We may not be in the war yet, but make no mistake, we will be. By then you''ll have much bigger things on your plate to worry about rather than this child''s game you''re all playing."


    "I''m not gonna go easy on any of you, oh and by the way, you have ten minutes. After ten minutes both teams fail. Good luck recruits, godspeed." Drill Sergeant Lloyd disconnected the mic, the recruits were on their own and with their competitive spirit it turned into a real ten minute survival game. Conlin and Daniels looked at each other for a split second before Conlin took off running. He was no match for Daniels right now, that man could snap his arm like a twig, the only way he''d be able to beat him is by outwitting him.


    "Think Conlin, think!" Thomas racked his brains, there really wasn''t any way to hide around here and he couldn''t climb the poles. He could try hiding in the, wait, that wouldn''t work. If Joshua wasn''t captured by Daniels by now then he could try to gather the rest of his teammates. That might work if they come at him by all sides, he couldn''t possibly take everyone on. He also isn''t smart enough to just go after him, he has his pride. Excellent, now that he''s formed a plan, Thomas can carry it out.


    Somewhere in the forest of poles and sad, after having heard the announcement and run away from the guards, McLaney and Smith were crouched down behind a couple of rather thick and large trees. They were also trying to come up with their own battle plan, but they were thinking along radically different lines than Thomas.


    "So we can hide, but you heard the announcement McLaney! Neither team wins unless either Conlin or Daniels goes down!" Smith was just as lost as McLaney.


    "I know Smith, I know! Just shut up and let me think for a moment." McLaney was exasperated and slightly annoyed by Smith''s less than stellar explanations that even a little kid would notice. "We could always regroup with the others, Conlin and McSnickers should be together still right?"


    "There''s no guarantee to that, for all we know Conlin could have left him to Daniels," Smith pointed out. "What we need is a radical solution, something that no one would ever think of or dare to do."


    "You''re right Smith, but aside from knocking out a couple of guards and taking their flags, we really don''t have much." McLaney was lamenting about the lack of options when Smith''s face brightened up. "That'' it! We''ll knock a couple of guards and steal their flags, maybe their shirts too, no one would really notice, I mean they dress in PT underneath those uniforms anyways!"


    "I don''t know Smith, we could get in a lot of trouble for it."


    "Come on McLaney, this is a survival course! We''ve only got about eight minutes left, this is our best course of option, we can deal with the consequences later!" It was at this moment that a couple of guards came out from behind a couple of trees about forty yards off. They hadn''t spotted the two squad mates yet, they were still cautiously poking around.


    "It''s do or fail McLaney, we''re going after those walking disguises!" Smith declared as he started moving stealthily across the forest.


    "Shit!, We needed a better plan!" Muttered McLaney under his breath, but he still followed Smith anyways. No sense in letting him attempt this alone.


    Across the forest about ninety or so yards off, Thomas was still running, although much slower now. He was quickly reaching his stamina limit, he quickly flitted behind one of the wooden poles that made up the "trees" of this sandy "forest". He stood behind it trying to gain back what little stamina was left, five minutes left until this charade ends in a mutual loss, Thomas thought. He felt a tap on his shoulder and he just about jumped out of his boots when he saw the guard uniforms, then he recognized the faces.


    "Smith, McLaney, is that you?" Thomas whispered, he was a little confused.


    Yeah, Thomas it''s us, listen we''ve got a plan, it''s a little risky, but it''s a sure fire way to get Daniels'' flag!" Smith was excited as he detailed out his plan. It truly was a risk taker and assumed many things. They must normally be breaking around a dozen or so camp rules by doing this, but hey, whatever it takes. As long as they caught Daniels it truly didn''t matter how. As the good drill sergeant said, the Germans won''t show mercy, so why should they?


    Three minutes left to go and Daniels had finally caught up to them, he looked like a mess. Just as he passed a couple of poles, two guards came out from behind him. He turned and then took off running like a hare from a fox! He never noticed that their armbands weren''t yellow, but blue! As Daniels took off running, time kept plummeting, down to the last minute when suddenly from the side came Thomas, tackling Daniels to the ground in a heap of tangled limbs. They wrestled for a few seconds before Thomas was able to put Daniels in an arm bar and he forcefully ripped off his flag from his arm. He did it! He secured victory from the jaws of uncertainty!


    The intercoms blared to life as Drill Sergeant Lloyd''s voice echoed out among the forest, "Congratulations Squad Conlin, you''ve taken Daniels flag successfully resulting in course completion for your entire squad, and you didn''t lose a man to boot. Impressive, as for you Daniels, not only did you sacrifice a few of your squad you didn''t even complete your objective! A waste of men and resources, you''re demoted and no longer squad leader." He paused a minute, then continued, "I''m sure you''ve already figured out the layout of The Playground Conlin, take your squad over to the next obstacle. Daniels, you and the rest of your squad mates will remain here to repeat the course. Oh and Smith and McLaney, take those damn uniforms off and hand them into the nearest MP. Lloyd out,"


    Thomas and his squad were ecstatic, they secured victory without a single loss which for Thomas was a first in both his lives! Most of the rest of the obstacles were going to be damned easy to do, with the exception of the fort at the end. They could worry about that later though, for now, they''ll just take it easy and head for the next obstacle, the adult sized mini fort.

 9 Thank You Fans

    Hey! It''s me, the author! Things have been awesome for me lately and I would like to take the time to share the news with you, my fans and readers!


    So first, an announcement from me! My book/web nveol Second Chance War has moved! That''s why all the chapters are gone! I finally got signed as a premium author!


    Now secondly, where can you find my novel? Well you can find it in two places now!


    You can click here ( http://www.dreame.com/novel/CS5mcEGSrC2EtXlRAu7M7A%3D%3D-Second-Chance-War.html ) and go to the Dreame website or you can go onto the google play app store and download Ringdom, the official Fantasy Novel Platform for Dreame, where my novel is currently front page! :)


    Just like the top webnovels it is a premium novel, but I hear the currency is pretty easy to get for free just like webnovel fastpasses!


    What does that mean for you, the fans? Well the release rate will be higher, of course. This weekend will be a mass release weekend. There have been story changes and edits as I have moved the chapters over. Certain elements no longer exist, and others have been modified or changed. Very noticibly, the beginning of the novel has changed. There is a new chapter, more blood and gore! (Yay!) And some of the chapters have been combined to make more sense. You''ll also notice that the titles may have also changed. I made titles that sounded better to me! Hopefully they do for you as well!


    I may continue writing on Webnovel in the future, but it will not be this book and for that I apologize. For my longtime fans I owe you an apology for not putting out more effort and for that I sincerely apologize. Henceforth you shall see a release rate of at least one chapter per day, or every other day, and multiple chapters on the weekend!


    I thank you, the fans for this opportunity, I would never have had it without you! I sincerely hope you join me on this journey to see the novel grow!


    Here is a link to it one more time.


    http://www.dreame.com/novel/CS5mcEGSrC2EtXlRAu7M7A%3D%3D-Second-Chance-War.html


    Hope to see you there!


    -Hokobishu