Chapter Text
‘ After blowing up that train, we bought Paris more time. Now the Resistance is gonna use the papers we secured to infiltrate a Nazi Stronghold.’
‘ This is it. We’re gonna liberate Paris. The French Second Army Division and the US Fourth Infantry arrive at dawn. That means we move, tonight .”
Soldiers, mostly made up of Resistance, sat on crates, while Turner, Pierson, Crowley, and newly introduced Rousseau gathered around a table, pointing at a map.
Daniels and Zussman stood guard. Daniels didn’t want to be rude, but he couldn’t help but eavesdrop on the leading officer's conversation.
“ Using the documents we obtained from the train, Rousseau and I will pose as Nazi officers to infiltrate the Garrison.” Crowley tapped his finger on a location on a map. Woah, this was sorta cooler than most missions, considering the platoon was liberating a city that has tried so hard to be free from Nazi rule.
Crowley went to walk the other way, but Rousseau tapped his shoulder. “ This way, gentlemen.” She gestured to another door that was guarded by Aiello and Stiles. Crowley followed. Turner signaled for Daniels and Zussman to come along as well.
Rousseau opened the heavy iron door with ease that led to the roof of a building that overlooked the so-called Garrison.
“ The Garrison is run by SS-Und Polizeiführer Heinrich.” Rousseau stalked to the railing, and looked out into the city she had fought for.
“ When he couldn’t find me, he came for my parents. Then my husband. And finally, my son.” Daniels felt sympathy for the woman. A crude cycle that had torn her life she had built and known, apart.
“ Tonight, everything we’ve lost, everything we’ve fought for, will mean something.” She turned to face the men.
“ Tonight, we take back our city.” Rousseau had determination in her eyes and tone.
Crowley pointed to the building in the background covered in spotlights. “ The Garrison. Our contact will supply us with explosives. When we blow the gates, that will be your signal to approach.” Daniels thought back to Davis.
“ The fate of Paris is in your hands.”
“ We’re counting on you.” Rousseau added, before she walked back into the hideout to get changed. “ Alright boys, get ready.” Daniels and Zussman nodded to Turner, as he and Pierson, as well as Aiello and Stiles followed. Zussman and Daniles walked in sync.
“ These Krauts aren’t gonna give up easy.” Zussman muttered, Daniels looked at his face, with a small scar from the wound he got from wrecking that train.
“ If we can survive Pierson, we can survive anything.” Daniels chuckled, and felt a hand on his shoulder opposite of Zussman. It was Crowley.
“ I fought alongside him at Kasserine.” He paused. “ We should all be so brave.” Crowley spoke in a somber tone, before walking back inside.
Daniel looked at Crowley, but was really confused. What really happened at Kasserine? He knew Aiello wouldn’t tell him. He wasn’t going to waste Turner’s time. Red knew that asking Pierson was a death wish.
Rousseau paused, and looked over her shoulder to the two men. “ It won’t be long now, mes amis*. “ Rousseau smiled at them for the first time.
“ But first, we enter the wolf's den. See you there.” She then climbed down the stairs to the main base, leaving Daniels and Zussman on the roof.
!! POV CHANGE !!
POV: Camille ‘Rousseau’ Denis
“ One more checkpoint.” Vivian turned from the driver's seat in the beetle. Rousseau nodded, but Crowley remained stone-faced.
Rousseau looked out the window littered with raindrops from the downpour. A Nazi and another man wearing civilian clothes pushed her forwards for the lady just to be put in the hands of two more Naizs.
“ Nazi thugs.” Crowley hissed.
The Nazi that was pushing the lady around waved them to continue, Vivian sent them a fake smile. “ We’re going, we’re going.” She scoffed under her breath.
“ Soon this nightmare will be over.” Rousseau muttered, and looked at a small knife disguised as a pen. She put the cap to the knife over the blade, and twisted to lock it in place.
“ If you’re stopped, your story must be iron-clad. Let’s go over it again.” Crowley looked at Rousseau. It was so odd to see him in a Nazi uniform. The feeling was most likely mutual.
Rousseau looked at the fake German papers that Crowley gave her. She flipped open the small booklet. It contained her ‘information’.
The name read ‘Gerda Schneider.’. There was a picture of a man paperclipped in the flies, she pulled it out. He looked like the standard Nazi officer.
“ You are Gerda Schneider, a military attaché. You were sent by Herr Spiegel in Foreign Intelligence to arrange for Heinrichs safe evacuation to Berlin. Take some time to review the dossier.”
Rousseau looked down at the papers, and folded them back up, looking at the picture of the Nazi officer that was paperclipped.
“This is our one chance. Recruiting our inside man came at a terrible price. You are to find him and exchange your briefcase with his. Hopefully, he's obtained the explosives we'll need to blow the gates.”
Rousseau lightly chuckled. “ You worry too much, Major.”
Crowley slightly smiled. “ That's my job.”
The car stopped, and Rousseau and Crowley lurched forwards slowly. Vivian looked over her shoulder. “ I’ll meet you outside the Garrison when the operation is complete.”
Rousseau dipped their head to Vivian in good-bye, and stepped out of the vehicle, the sound of the patter of raindrops and the sound of ‘Gerda Schinder’s’ heels hit the concrete road. With the two out of the car, Vivian drove off.
Rousseau fixed up her sleeve, and Crowley walked up beside her.
“ Who sent you?” Crowley tested Rousseau’s knowledge.
“ Herr Spiegel.” Rousseau answered. Crowley shook his head. “ Good. Whatever happens, once you make the trade, you must maintain possession of the briefcase at all times.” Crowly handed a dark brown leather case to Rousseau.
“ I’ve come this far. I’ll be damn sure I’m going to finish it.” Rousseau spoke, clear determination in her voice. Crowley nodded, and began to walk to the entrance, and first checkpoint on foot.
“ Guten Abend.*” A Gestapo officer greeted a disgusted Crowley, and Crowley handed over his papers at the soldiers order. The Gestapo nodded in approval, and let Crowley on his way. Rousseau soon went after.
“ Papiere, bitte. Und übergeben Sie Ihren Fall.*” Rousseau handed over her fake papers, as well as the leather case to a nearby soldier. She noticed Crowley smoking a cigarette, waiting for her.
“ Ich habe Sie hier noch nie gesehen. Was ist der Zweck Ihres Besuchs?*” She paused, jogging her memory.
“ I have travel documents for Polizeiführer Heinrich.” She answered.
The officer cocked his head at her. “ Ich wurde darüber nicht informiert.”
Crowley took her response as a signal, and threw his cigarette to the floor, stomped on it with his black boot, and walked up the steps to the door to wait for her.
“ Aber Ihre Papiere scheinen in Ordnung zu sein, machen Sie weiter, Fräulein Schneider.*” The Gestapo handed back Rousseau's fake papers, and the other gave her the briefcase back. She showed them a fake smile, which they returned, and she walked up to meet with Crowley, who put his hand on the doorknob.
“ Now, remember, your contact's name is Fischer; he’s wearing a gray officers uniform. Tell me the pass phrase.” Crowley whispered.
“ Verlaine.**” Rousseau whispered back. Crowley gave her a satisfied nod of his head. “ Good luck.” And he opened the door to a massive Nazi base.
The second Rousseau stepped in, she felt off. Like she wasn’t even in the same world as before, but she had to put those thoughts aside. There was a critical mission ahead.
Rousseau looked around. She had never seen the inside before. She noticed a guard, guarding the top of a stairwell, so she continued on her way. She weaved past some Nazi’s, until she ran into one locking the basement door. There must be something down there.
She slowly snuck in behind the guard, and stood far enough behind him, but close enough to reach into his pocket, and snatch the keys. She walked off, and unlocked the basement door. She went down a few steps, the sound of her heels clanking on the wood steps. The smell of whiskey quickly came to her.
She looked over, and saw a woman with a resistance armband being dragged by a Nazi officer, and thrown into a room, which the door was quickly shut. Rousseau slowly walked into the room, and the Nazi officer waved her off.
“ Verlassen! Das geht dich nichts an!*” The soldier growled, and the other French female held a hand out infront of her, with a pleading look in her eyes. Rousseau lightly closed the door, and opened up the knife that she had disguised as a pen.
“ Pas plus.*” Rousseau swung to stab the officer, but he grabbed her hands before she could do so. She wrestled with him for a few seconds, before being able to stab him in the arm, then the neck. The Nazi staggered back, holding the stab wound, until he fell to the floor in a puddle of his own blood. Rousseau looked back to the French female on the floor, who looked up to her with hope in her eyes that replaced the worry that was evident before.
“Qu'est-ce que c'est?*” The French female asked, and Rousseau helped her up from the floor.
“ rester hors de vue. La résistance sera bientôt là.” Rousseau looked the French female in the eye. “ Tes camarades arrivent.” Rousseau whispered.
The French female dipped her head. “ Viva la Ré
sistance.”. With the Rousseau left, and turned a corner to a sleeping guard. She saw another Resistance worker in a cell, this time, a male. She used the lock she pickpocketed, and it unlocked the lock on the cell door after a few different keys.
He walked up to the bars of the cell. Rousseau assured him that Resistance was coming. She quickly walked away, and saw a German soldier leaning on a pile of crates, most likely a shot of whiskey in his hands.
“ Guten Abend.” Rousseau greeted the Nazi, and he slammed his drink on one of the crates lightly.
“ Du solltest nicht hier unten sein. Die Jungs können ein bisschen lautstark werden.*” THe Nazi looked to Rousseau, a weird glare in his eyes. Maybe he was a bit woozy.
“ Mir wurde gesagt, dass Oberst Fischer hier unten im Keller Karten spielen würde. Hast du ihn gesehen?*" Rousseau asked in the most sincere tone she could manage. She hated the Nazis, but if this plan was to work. She would have to tolerate, or at least act like she tolerated them.
“Der Oberst ist gerade zu einem Treffen aufgebrochen. Er sollte im zweiten Stock sein.*” The Nazi answered. Rousseau recalled seeing a guard on the staircase entrance. This mission could not be hard enough.
“Ich danke Ihnen für Ihre Hilfe.” Rousseau dipped her head slightly to the officer. “ Es war mir ein Vergnügen.*”. Rousseau looked around the basement, and saw a covenant elevator. That was easier than getting past the guards, so she stepped inside.
She heard a rattling sound before she felt the elevator begin to move. Rousseau grabbed the bars around the elevator quickly. She wasn’t used to the movement, and almost made her throw up for a second, before she regained herself, and let go of the bar, even if it was reluctant at first.
Once the doors opened, she left as calmly as she could, trying to hide her embarrassment that she had been scared of an elevator. She slowly looked around, and saw a man who fit the picture of their contact.
That must be Oberst Fischer.
Rousseau slowly walked up to the officer, and got their attention. “ Womit kann ich Ihnen behilflich sein?*” The officer asked.
“ Mir wurde gesagt, dass ich Oberst Fischer hier finden könnte.*” The officer chuckled.
“ Du hast. Ich bin Oberst Fischer. Was kann ich für Dich tun?” Rousseau was fighting back a sigh of relief. No more searching, and asking Nazis where she could find this infamous Oberst Fischer.
Rousseau took a deep breath. It was time to make the trade.
“Haben Sie die Werke von Verlaine gelesen?*” It was the code phrase. Verlaine. A German poem that was very well known.
“ Ja. Das Herbstlied ist eines meiner Lieblingslieder.*” Fischer chuckled, but it was clear in his eyes he knew what was going on.
Fischer took a hand, and extended it out. “Bitte hier entlang, Fräulein*”. And Rousseau was led by Fischer into an almost empty room, with no light besides the moon shining through the window.
“ We must be brief.” Fischer whispered, shutting the door lightly behind him. It was nice to speak in english.
“ Are you ready to make the exchange?” Rousseau asked. Fischer shook his head no.
“ No, you’re early- and I’m late for a meeting. I’ll have the explosives in a case matching yours. We’ll have to make the swap in the War Room.” Fischer looked at Rousseau. She was a bit bothered.
“ Lead the way.” Rousseau said with a determined look in her eyes. Fischer opened the door a bit, a small crack, before he shot his head back at Rousseau.
“ No, they’re watching me. Use your cover to sneak into Heinrich’s office on the 3rd floor. From there you can cut across the North Wing and avoid the checkpoints. We shouldn’t be seen together. Go now and I’ll meet you in the War Room.”
Fischer opened the door, and Rousseau walked out with a fake flattered look on her face. Now it was time to enter the office of a murderer. One that targeted her in particular. This time, no guards stood at the stairwells, as anyone on the second floor would have access. She quickly climbed the steps, and saw a woman sitting at a desk, a guard in the far corner.
“ Guten Abend. Kann ich Ihnen helfen, Fräulein?*” The woman looked at Rousseau. She must be Heinrichs secretary.
“ Ja, ich habe Reisedokumente für Herr Heinrich. Ist er da?*” Rousseau asked, trying to be as calm and sweet as she could. She hated Heinrich, yet here she was.
“ Nein. Er ist gerade...in einer Besprechung. Wenn Sie in seinem Büro warten, wird er in Kürze bei Ihnen sein.*” The secretary fumbled with her fingers, but muttered the words.
Rousseau nodded. She slowly walked into the Heinrichs office. It looked fairly nice. A fire crackled, the fire eating away at the wood, quickly turning it to ash.
There were some windows with a blue casein. Perfect.
She slowly opened the window, and was about to vault over the windowsill, but she heard the heavy doors to the office close shut quietly. She turned around. There he was. Polizeiführer Heinrich, in the flesh.
“ Ich habe dich noch nie gesehen. Darf ich fragen, was du an meinem Fenster machst?*” Heinrich asks, slowly walking towards Rousseau. She gulped.
“ Entschuldigen Sie, Herr Kommandant. Ich wollte nur etwas frische Luft schnappen. Ich bin Gerda Schneider. Ich bin aus Berlin gekommen, um Ihnen Ihre Reisepapiere zu bringen.*” Heinrich walked to his desk.
“ Fräulein Schinder.” Rousseau paused. How did Heinrich know her code name already?
Heinrich grabbed a bottle off his desk, and grabbed two shot glasses, and filled them both with whatever was in the tekander. It was most likely some sort of whiskey.
He walked over to Rousseau, and offered her a shot. She took it. “ Danke.*” She mumbled.
“ Bedanken Sie sich noch nicht, Fräulein Schneider.” Heinrich smiles. He looked like a fox, with his smirk.
“ Now if you will indulge me, perhaps we can converse in English. For as you know, I'm sure, practice makes perfect. Please, have a seat. Have a seat.” Heinrich insisted.
Rousseau slowly walked over to Heinrichs desk, and took a seat in the chair across from his. Heinrich lounged on his desk.
“ So, Herr Gruber sent you to arrange for my departure. I'm flattered.” Heinrich chuckled. Rousseau was confused, but took the risk.
“ It was Herr Spiegel.” She corrected.’
“Very good. One cannot be too careful these days. You look so serious. Let us drink.” Heinrich raised his glass in a toast. “ To my return to the Fatherland. “ Rousseau raised her glass after. “ The French deserve each other.”
Rousseau watched Heinrich down the shot in one gulp.
“ But, my god! I will miss the cuisine!” Heinrich suddenly got up, and grabbed a sharp poker tool, and tended to the fire that Rousseau had forgotten about.
“ Take the ortolan; that tiny delicate songbird. Its eyes-” Heinrich poked the fire. “ Poked out so it can-” Heinrich paused once more, and poked the logs in the fire once more. “ Gorge.”
Rousseau watched, a bit confused, but understanding at the same time.
“ And then, it’s drowned in congage! It’s indigenous!” Heinrich said enthusiastically.
“ I don’t know what I’ll miss more. Savoring its sweet flesh, or watching it thrash to death. ” Heinrich looked back to Rousseau, who had gotten out of her seat.
“ But, there is one thing of which I am certain. Watching your son flail as he drowned under my boot gave me the greatest pleasure of all.” Heinrich suddenly lunged.
“ Rousseau! ” He pinned Rousseau down. Rousseau yelped, and looked around, seeing the now broken bottle that once had whiskey in it. She grabbed one of the larger shards, and shoved it in Heinrichs ribs.
His grip loosened, and he fell back, helping Rousseau manage to have the high ground.
She stabbed Heinrich in the chest. “ This is for my comrades.” She said, her voice breaking a bit.
She stabbed Heinrich again, this time in the stomach. “ This is for my son.” She felt some tears gather in her eyes.
She finally stabbed Heinrich in the neck. “ This is for me.” She cried. “ Viva la Resistance.”
Heinrichs head lolled to the side, the life in his eyes leaving. Rousseau wiped the tears away, and wiped her bloodstained hand on his uniform.
She slowly got up, and climbed out of the window, like her original plan, and snuck into the North Wing through another window.
She quickly found the War Room, and Fischer, who sat, looking at what seemed to be a map.
“ Sir, die Berichte, die Sie wollten, sind gerade aus Berlin eingetroffen.*” Rousseau looked over Fischer’s shoulder.
He looked up. “ Danke schön. Ich werde mich schnellstmöglich um sie kümmern.*” Fischer nodded his head in acknowledgement, but looked Rousseau suddenly dead in the eyes. “ Leave, now.” He whispered.
“ Sehr gut, Sir.*” Rousseau dipped her head, and picked up the briefcase with the explosives, switching out for hers that was full of quote, unquote ‘Travel Documents’. Like clockwork, some Nazis stormed into the War Room, and pointed to Fischer. “ Ergreife diesen Spion!*”
Fischer stood up. “ Was ist die Bedeutung davon?!*”
The Nazi most likely in charge of the small group growled. “ Im Munitionslager fehlen Sprengstoffe. Du warst der Letzte, der in dieser Gegend gesehen wurde.*”
“ Das ist absurd.*” Fischer argued, and a Nazi appeared from behind the one that seemed to call the shots of this small group.
The man strode forwards, quickly flipping the briefcase towards him, and flicked open the latches keeping the case closed, and checked inside. The soldier looked back to the others in defeat.
“ Nichts. Egal, jeder zeigt seine Papiere.*” The Nazi ordered, and Rousseau saw some men fumbling to grab or open their papers, while she slipped out of the War Room. The Nazis had caught on.
She rushed around, the explosives now in hand. She saw a soldier standing guard. It must be a checkpoint, but she was covered in Heinrich’s blood, and had a briefcase full of explosives.
She slowly walked towards the soldier, who stopped her, asking for her papers.
He flipped open her fake papers, and looked at her. “Ist das Blut an deinem Ärmel?*” The Nazi paused, in the midst of handing her papers back.
“Tinte, fürchte ich. Einer dieser Tage.*” Rousseau forced a laugh.
The Nazi signaled to a table beside him. “ Legen Sie Ihre Aktentasche zur Inspektion auf den Tisch.*”
Rousseau paused, unable to say anything. The briefcase in her hands was crucial to the mission, and if she blew her cover, the plan would be FUBAR.
“ Ich komme zu spät zu einem Meeting.*” She mumbled.
The Nazi pointed his gun towards Rousseau’s chest. “Fräulein, jetzt deine Tasche.*” But the man was cut off.
Crowley had sunk a blade into the soldier's throat, and began to drag the body to a room adjacent to the hallway. Rousseau followed close behind.
“ You never disappoint.” Rousseau chuckled, as Crowley set the body down, and headed towards a window.
“ We’ve been compromised, the whole bloody place is on alert. They’ve captured our contact.” He growled, pacing around the window.
“ Tell me you made the switch.” Corwley looked over to Rousseau, with an almost pleading look in his eyes.
She nodded. “ Yes, I have the explosives.”
Crowley looked out into the courtyard, full of soldiers, and trucks. “ Then we’re staying on mission. We’ll rendezvous in the courtyard after you plant the charges.”
Crowley opened the window, and Rousseau climbed out. A bright searchlight went back and forth around the courtyard, forcing Rousseau to stick to the shadows. She wiped out her pistol, and attached a suppressor.
Rousseau could hear arguing from below, so she silently jumped down, and looked through a foggy window. It was Fischer, on his knees, with another Nazi seemingly yelling at him, while all Fischer could do was stare at the floor.
Rousseau silently climbed into the room, and snuck up on the Nazi, sinking her pen blade into the Nazi’s neck. She quickly untied Fischer, who stayed down, and reassured her he would be there if they ran into trouble.
Rousseau snuck around the courtyard, ducking behind crates and trucks to remain unnoticed. She could hear the panting of dogs, but they didn’t catch her scent.
Once she planted the final charge, she looked at the door longingly.
It was time to liberate her home.
“ Now it’s up to you and your team, Daniels.”
!! POV CHANGE !!
POV: PFC Ronald ‘Red’ Daniels
Daniels looked at the Garrison ahead of them, and back to Zussman,who was hiding behind a car as well, as was the rest of the platoon.
He looked down at his watch. “ They’re late. We should go now.” Pierson shook his head.
“ Hold your fire until they blow the gates. Get ready.” Pierson warned, readying his own weapon.
There was a sudden !BOOM! , and the doors to the Garrison were a fiery mess, like a dragon from a fairytale had set the thing ablaze.
“ Alright. That's our signal.” Pierson and the rest of the platoon charged forwards. Daniels kept a close eye on Zussman, though. But had to keep his head in the game.
“ Let's go fella, they can’t hold the Garrison without us!” Pierson ordered, quickly followed by Turner. “Gotta hurry! Krauts won’t go down without a fight.”
The platoon had to narrowly dodge being exploded by cars, and had to avoid catching on fire from Molotov cocktails being thrown down by the French Resistance from the Garrison.
Daniels could hear cheers from a ton of Resistance workers, yelling at the retreating Nazis in French.
Turner, Pierson, Daniels, and Zussman jogged the rest of the way to the Garrison, where they found Rousseau and Crowley, including another man in a Nazi uniform shooting at some more Krauts in what seemed to be a courtyard. It was odd seeing the two in the uniform of the enemy.
“ Crowley!” Daniels shouted over the sound of Rousseau firing an MP-40.
“ The Garrison’s almost clear! It’s not over yet.” Crowley reported as Rousseau finished gunning down the last fighting Krauts.
“ The Germans will counterattack soon. We must build up our defenses, follow me.” Crowley signaled for the rest of the platoon to follow, while Rousseau tagged along.
They arrived at a huge set of wooden doors. Daniels imagined how beautiful it looked on the inside, before the Nazis invaded.
Crowley threw Daniels what seemed to be a shotgun. “ Jerry’s** still inside. We’ve got to take them out. Rousseau, throw a smoke in there.”
Daniels looked over to Rousseau, who sent a smoke grenade hurling through the glass panel on the door, causing a loud crash, and smoke to seep out of cracks and the new hole in the glass.
“ Clear the lobby, then sweep the building. Enemy reinforcements are coming.” Crowley ordered, and with that, with no hesitation, Zussman walked up to the door and kicked it open. It was a hard kick to, forcing the seemingly heavy doors to hit the side of the walls with a loud !BANG! .
The two opened fire on some Nazis that were stumbling their way through the smoke, covering their eyes, eventually finishing the lot off.
“ Area clear!” Daniels reported, and waved some of the smoke away. The inside was beautiful, despite all the blood now on the carpet and the walls.
“ Daniels, Zussman, head upstairs and secure the second floor. We'll clear out the rest down here.” Turner ordered, and Daniels and Zussman hurried up the stairs, busting open another pair of doors, and with the help of a few Resistance workers, forced some Nazis to surrender.
Daniels peered over the side of a hole that was blown out of the side of the building. It was a beautiful city, besides the dried blood that littered the streets, and the fallen down buildings.
“ Room clear! Daniels, gotta set up defenses. Germans will be here soon. We'll see 'em coming from here. If they get close, use the Molotovs. The whole city's fighting back! We're almost there!” Zussman slinged his weapon over his shoulder, and looked around the broken down office, and put his foot up on a crate, like he was in charge. Daniels didn’t mind though, neither did the French, or they were too focused on liberating the city to care much.
“ They're throwing smoke down the street! Here they come! Daniels, aim for the driver! Everyone else, wait til they're in range.” Zussman shouted, looking around the other troops, and keeping a close eye on their prisoners.
Soon enough, the Germans neared, closer, and closer.
“ MG’s, open fire! Keep ‘em off that bridge!” Zussman jogged up to the hole in the wall as turrets quickly began firing.
“ Flamethrower in front! Snipers! In the building across the Seine! They're getting too close! Enemies in front! Use your Molotovs!” Zussman ordered, going from one thing to the next, but it was nice to have heads-up on the Krauts positions.
Daniels threw down the Molotovs, quickly making the soldier working the flamethrower into a burning ball of fire.
Daniels switched between a sniper rifle and the Molotov cocktails quickly. Daniels listened to Zussman orders, throwing the flaming cocktails to Halftracks and such, until Daniels heard the word. “ Panzerschreck!**”
Daniels ducked down at the rocket launcher as it sent one of its rounds flying into the Garrison. Daniels watched as a French worker dropped a cocktail, and was effectively burnt to a crisp.
“ We gotta get outta here. Come on, Daniels!” Zussman called, vaulting over the side of the now burning wall. Daniels could have sworn he heard Zussman hiss in pain, but Daniels jumped over the wall nonetheless, and rolled onto a truck, landing onto the concrete street with a thud.
Daniels felt dazed, but through his temporarily blurry vision saw a halftrack approaching. He weakly crawled to a Panzerschreck that was propped up on a sandbag. With one shot of the launcher, the Nazis were turning tail.
Daniels looked over to Zussman, who was smiling like crazy. “They're retreating! We did it! We pushed 'em back! We did it, Daniels! Let's get back to the others! I can see Crowley and Pierson up ahead!”
Daniels chuckled, and cantered after Zussman, who was almost in a full sprint. The sound of the French celebrating filled the two’s ears. It was an amazing feeling to know they helped so many people.
“ Outstanding work, boys. Outstanding.” Turner praised the two, who had huge smiles on their faces.
Rousseau suddenly ran up to Crowley and hugged him. “ We did it! De Gaulles forces are entering the city!”
Daniels smiled warmly. It was nice to see such a wholesome moment. Rousseau had gotten her home back from Nazi Rule.
“ Looks like we might get that champagne and caviar after all.” Pierson mumbled.
“ Hey Daniels, you still think there’s a young gal looking for a handsome G.I**?” Zussman put a hand under his chin.
Daniels laughed. “ Sorry buddy, that was just to boost your morale.”
“ Now, he tells me.” Zussman chuckled.
There was a loud bang, and the team instictivly ducked, but looked up at the sky, which was now filled with blue, red, and white fireworks. The colors of the United States of America flag, but more importantly, the colors of the French Flag.
“ City of lights. Something to celebrate, Eh, Crowley?” Vivian appeared beside Crowley, looking up to the sky.
“ There is no turning back, France has reclaimed Paris.”
“ This ain’t exactly over. The war’s not done” Pierson murmured.
Crowley turned to the Sergeant. “ C’mon Pierson, let them have this.”
“ That's what Turner’s for.” Pierson grumbled.