What if....
Army green tank, appearing darker from the sweat that soaked his body. It was hotter than hell out, and it only seemed to be getting worse. It was like steam rose from the very ground. Pebbles of sweat dripped down the sides of his face, only to be caught in his beard, already soaked. Only thing that made it worse was the incessant buzz of flies that seemed to be lingering.
His fatigues where they weren't ripped were dirty, covered in mud or blood. He and his platoon had decided to lay low in the little village. Surprisingly they'd gotten good reception from the locals. The war zone wasn't anywhere near them. The faces of children here, severely malnourished made it hard not to help. But he had orders and as much as he hated it, he was going to follow them.
They weren't far from the Hungarian border, sent on a top secret recon mission to locate some doctor out in the middle of Bumfuck. Only thing was when they turned up there it wound of being an ambush. The doctor was dead as well as half a dozen of their men. The rest of them were wounded, either by pride or physically. Save for him.
He sat there, in the window of the building they were residing in. The side of which was chipping off sort of like chalk. Logan's weathered brows peered out over the terrain. Dirt roads, animals and a little market place. Chickens squawked as a kid ran threw making them flee.
Logan sighed, the sun beating down on him, making his bronzed skin nearly sizzle in the god forbidden heat. They'd just gotten word that the war was over. Hitler was gone and everything was back to normal. Well, maybe for the people back home and the politicians that didn't see this kind of shit. But for people like Logan, the families ripped asunder by the tyranny of that evil man, no life would never be the same.
They were to remain there until they were contacted for their pick up point. Logan's team was the best of the best. They were sent in for the missions nobody else wanted and no one ever could possibly perform. That was why in a cluster fuck like this mission had been there were only six fatalities when any other team, no one would of come back alive. Sometimes though, he'd learned over the years that was the way the military wanted it. When yous aw too much you became a "casualty of war". But he knew the truth. Some of his best friends were innocent men who just knew too damned much.
Logan shook his head and gave a nod of respect for his fallen comrades. Then slowly his tongue drug across the rolling paper in his hand and he sealed the cigarette. Wasn't a cigar, but times like this you had to take what you could get. He preferred hand rolled cigarettes over the packaged one any day.
The rest of them sat, their rifles between their legs. Him, well he didn't need a weapon. Logan was the weapon. The most dangerous and formidable weapon one of those top secret branches of the military ever produced. Not that anyone was alive that would remember. It was all packed away neatly in files sitting in some abandoned warehouse somewhere collecting dust. Just waiting for some poor bastard to come along, read its contents and make the mistake of coming to find him. Everyone in life Logan had found was one bad decision away from fucking their lives up beyond all recognition. He'd made that mistake a long time ago, sad fact was, he just couldn't remember it.
Taking his mind off of it he took a long drag from his cigarette and tilted his head back, letting the thin stream of smoke seeped from between his lips. "See any live ones out there Patch?"
The corner of his mouth pulled up into a slight smile. "You know damned well ain't nothin' worth lookin' at out here O'Malley. Keep it in your pants 'til we get home. Won't be long." Logan knew that wasn't true. They weren't really tact about coming and picking up their boys that were left behind. They figured we were tough and could hack it. But hell, every man, no matter how tough needs a little soft comfort every now and then. None of them were any different.
His eyes closed, the cigarette dangling from between his lips, a leg bent in the big window. The sun was starting to go down. Logan didn't sleep much in this place. His guys did, they needed the rest. Half of them he heard whimpering from nightmares, the things they've done and seen. It broke weaker men, the ones not cut out for this life like him. You could only take so much before the world turned you into what it wanted you to be though. Logan had a small shred of the man he wanted to be left, he just knew when to be that man and when not to.
The sun began it's nightly ritual, sinking into the endless oblivion of night. Logan was tired, and wary. But he'd learned the first night he was here to not sleep, because it'd only be interrupted by the sounds of whatever creatures roamed the night here. It never started this early, usually closer to what he guessed was midnight. People were rushing to get into their little cottages, as if they knew the horrors that lay in the night. Which they probably did.
The streets were bare, He didn't hear a single soul for at least an hour. And then what he did hear, he wasn't sure was a person. It was too soft, almost like a mouse so he wrote it off. Until the scent hit me. Distinctly floral, but not like roses, nothing that cliche. No, this was something exotic he couldn't put his finger on, most importantly, it was female. And it was close.
Not making a move he cracked open his eyes and waited. She was getting closer. His eyes stayed on the shadowed dirt roads of the village until finally, he saw her. She moved like a panther, graceful, elegant. She was dressed in some sort of armor, not heavy or bulky, but it concealed her frame. Long ravens hair floated on the cool breeze that blew by. His eyes followed that silken mane to her face. Angelic, pale, her skin seemed to glow ethereally in the illuminate moonlight. But that wasn't her most striking trait at all.
No, her eyes by far surpassed the mystery of her beauty. The clearest blue he'd ever seen. He imagined they must be the color of water to a man that was dying of thirst. And Logan suddenly realized just how parched he was.
Never had he been so enchanted before and so completely captivated before. Long lashes veiled those eyes. His own hazel gaze was hidden, appearing as if he were asleep, just so he could watch her. But then she looked up and even though he wasn't certain he was sure her eyes locked with his for a moment. For that long moment nothing mattered and the world seemed to just stop.
A piercing scream shattered the silence of the night and just like that she was gone.
His fatigues where they weren't ripped were dirty, covered in mud or blood. He and his platoon had decided to lay low in the little village. Surprisingly they'd gotten good reception from the locals. The war zone wasn't anywhere near them. The faces of children here, severely malnourished made it hard not to help. But he had orders and as much as he hated it, he was going to follow them.
They weren't far from the Hungarian border, sent on a top secret recon mission to locate some doctor out in the middle of Bumfuck. Only thing was when they turned up there it wound of being an ambush. The doctor was dead as well as half a dozen of their men. The rest of them were wounded, either by pride or physically. Save for him.
He sat there, in the window of the building they were residing in. The side of which was chipping off sort of like chalk. Logan's weathered brows peered out over the terrain. Dirt roads, animals and a little market place. Chickens squawked as a kid ran threw making them flee.
Logan sighed, the sun beating down on him, making his bronzed skin nearly sizzle in the god forbidden heat. They'd just gotten word that the war was over. Hitler was gone and everything was back to normal. Well, maybe for the people back home and the politicians that didn't see this kind of shit. But for people like Logan, the families ripped asunder by the tyranny of that evil man, no life would never be the same.
They were to remain there until they were contacted for their pick up point. Logan's team was the best of the best. They were sent in for the missions nobody else wanted and no one ever could possibly perform. That was why in a cluster fuck like this mission had been there were only six fatalities when any other team, no one would of come back alive. Sometimes though, he'd learned over the years that was the way the military wanted it. When yous aw too much you became a "casualty of war". But he knew the truth. Some of his best friends were innocent men who just knew too damned much.
Logan shook his head and gave a nod of respect for his fallen comrades. Then slowly his tongue drug across the rolling paper in his hand and he sealed the cigarette. Wasn't a cigar, but times like this you had to take what you could get. He preferred hand rolled cigarettes over the packaged one any day.
The rest of them sat, their rifles between their legs. Him, well he didn't need a weapon. Logan was the weapon. The most dangerous and formidable weapon one of those top secret branches of the military ever produced. Not that anyone was alive that would remember. It was all packed away neatly in files sitting in some abandoned warehouse somewhere collecting dust. Just waiting for some poor bastard to come along, read its contents and make the mistake of coming to find him. Everyone in life Logan had found was one bad decision away from fucking their lives up beyond all recognition. He'd made that mistake a long time ago, sad fact was, he just couldn't remember it.
Taking his mind off of it he took a long drag from his cigarette and tilted his head back, letting the thin stream of smoke seeped from between his lips. "See any live ones out there Patch?"
The corner of his mouth pulled up into a slight smile. "You know damned well ain't nothin' worth lookin' at out here O'Malley. Keep it in your pants 'til we get home. Won't be long." Logan knew that wasn't true. They weren't really tact about coming and picking up their boys that were left behind. They figured we were tough and could hack it. But hell, every man, no matter how tough needs a little soft comfort every now and then. None of them were any different.
His eyes closed, the cigarette dangling from between his lips, a leg bent in the big window. The sun was starting to go down. Logan didn't sleep much in this place. His guys did, they needed the rest. Half of them he heard whimpering from nightmares, the things they've done and seen. It broke weaker men, the ones not cut out for this life like him. You could only take so much before the world turned you into what it wanted you to be though. Logan had a small shred of the man he wanted to be left, he just knew when to be that man and when not to.
The sun began it's nightly ritual, sinking into the endless oblivion of night. Logan was tired, and wary. But he'd learned the first night he was here to not sleep, because it'd only be interrupted by the sounds of whatever creatures roamed the night here. It never started this early, usually closer to what he guessed was midnight. People were rushing to get into their little cottages, as if they knew the horrors that lay in the night. Which they probably did.
The streets were bare, He didn't hear a single soul for at least an hour. And then what he did hear, he wasn't sure was a person. It was too soft, almost like a mouse so he wrote it off. Until the scent hit me. Distinctly floral, but not like roses, nothing that cliche. No, this was something exotic he couldn't put his finger on, most importantly, it was female. And it was close.
Not making a move he cracked open his eyes and waited. She was getting closer. His eyes stayed on the shadowed dirt roads of the village until finally, he saw her. She moved like a panther, graceful, elegant. She was dressed in some sort of armor, not heavy or bulky, but it concealed her frame. Long ravens hair floated on the cool breeze that blew by. His eyes followed that silken mane to her face. Angelic, pale, her skin seemed to glow ethereally in the illuminate moonlight. But that wasn't her most striking trait at all.
No, her eyes by far surpassed the mystery of her beauty. The clearest blue he'd ever seen. He imagined they must be the color of water to a man that was dying of thirst. And Logan suddenly realized just how parched he was.
Never had he been so enchanted before and so completely captivated before. Long lashes veiled those eyes. His own hazel gaze was hidden, appearing as if he were asleep, just so he could watch her. But then she looked up and even though he wasn't certain he was sure her eyes locked with his for a moment. For that long moment nothing mattered and the world seemed to just stop.
A piercing scream shattered the silence of the night and just like that she was gone.