by Alexa Kang
Klaus again? Anthony didn't understand. Back in Anzio, their company had gone after Klaus because Captain Harding had a personal vendetta against him, but for what reason would the U.S. Army want to go after him?
"Sir, may I ask why?"
A grave look overtook General Castile. "We may look like we're winning the war here, but none of it will matter if Hitler succeeds with his weapons program." Castile handed Anthony a set of confidential documents titled "Amerika Bomber." "One of Hitler's secret weapons is a strategic long-range bomb that can be set off from France to reach as far as New York, and possibly beyond. We believe this weapon is still under development. But if he succeeds, and his bombs reach American soil, you can imagine the consequences."
Anthony flipped through the "Amerika Bomber" report, and came to a page that listed Hitler's intended targets. General Motors, Indianapolis. Chrysler, Detroit. Alcoa, Tennessee, and at least sixteen other locations. All were manufacturers of American aircraft parts. Plus, New York City. Anthony felt a chill running up his spine. American cities could be destroyed.
"We need to find out as much information as we can and stop this program," Castile said. "Hitler has a select group of Wehrmacht commanders who have access to his weapons program information. These commanders are strategically placed to launch the missiles from different locations in Europe. Heinrich Klaus is one of them."
Anthony recalled the times he had come face-to-face with Klaus. "You want me to find him?"
"Yes." Castile looked dead serious. "The army is setting up strike teams to search for all the key targets who may be privy to the information we need. We want you to lead the team that targets Klaus. The code name for your mission is Orion. You will choose who to assign to your team from your company. We'll provide you with support units under your command as you need."
Wary, Anthony picked up one of the photos. Klaus's icy, serene eyes stared back at him.
"Think you're up for the job?" General Castile asked.
"Yes," Anthony said. He didn't relish the thought of having to go after Klaus again, but General Castile had come in person to give him this mission. It showed how much the general favored him. "I'll do my best, sir."
General Castile's expression softened. He glanced at the ring on Anthony's finger. "How's Lieutenant Graham?"
"Tessa?" Anthony didn't expect General Castile to ask about her. "Fine. She's fine, sir. Thank you for asking."
"She's an impressive young lady."
The general's compliment filled Anthony with pride. He could see a note of affection in Castile's eyes when the general spoke of her.
"I had reservations about placing her near you," Castile said. "I worried she might be a distraction. I'm glad my concerns were unfounded."
"She's not near me anymore, sir," Anthony said. "She's been transferred north to follow the First Army."
"Really?"
"There's been a reassignment of medical staff to cover the personnel shortage in Normandy."
"I see. Well, we all have to do what we have to until the war's over."
"Yes, sir," Anthony could only concur. The general had already indulged him and Tessa once by helping her come to join him in Italy. He wouldn't think of asking the general to do them any more favors.
"That'll be all, Captain." General Castile straightened his face once again. "Remember, Orion's mission is a top priority. Colonel Callahan will work with you to assemble your team and get you all the support you'll need." He paused and looked Anthony in the eye. "Don't fail me."
"No, sir. I won't," Anthony said.
"One more thing," Castile smiled. "If all goes well, I'll see what I can do to arrange a pass for you and Lieutenant Graham to meet up before Christmas."
Thrilled, Anthony wished he could tell Tessa right away. The general's offer was the best news he had heard all day. "Thank you, sir."
"Or," the general sighed, "God willing, the war will be over before then, and you won't even need it."
In the medical truck driving away from Saint-Tropez to join up with the Orion strike team, Jesse stared out to the fields. He and his squad of medics had been chosen by Anthony to join a new mission code-named Orion. The trucked rolled along with the medics in high spirits. Morale of the men of the Third Division remained high after the success of Operation Anvil. For Jesse though, the world had never felt bleaker. A dreary wasteland had taken over his heart.
He unfolded the letter in his hands and read it again.
Dear Jesse,
This is the hardest letter I've ever written in my life. I've started more than a dozen times. Each time, I've had to stop and start over. I am no good at talking about things. I don't know if what I say in this letter will be enough, but I will try. I will try my best. I want you to know that.
It would be easier if we could pretend that what you told me was a joke. If we could lie to ourselves, we could dismiss everything you said and did as another one of your womanising stunts. We could pretend nothing serious happened and never speak of it again. I guess that would make things easier for me, but that wouldn't be fair to you, would it?
After all those months in Anzio, I should have known. I don't know why I didn't see it. Maybe I willfully did not want to see. I don't know.
When I think back to the first time we met, and everything we've experienced in between until the day you said goodbye, I know that, in the vast scheme of things and despite all the crazy, horrible things happening around us, I am glad I met you. I have known from the moment I first saw you that you have a beautiful heart. You have a star that shines from within you. It is bright and it outshines everyone and everything around you. It was so dazzling, I couldn't look away. Behind your facade, beneath the false persona you want everyone to believe was real, I see a soul untouched by the evils of this world. To be loved by you is a precious gift. I don't take this gift lightly. I will always cherish your feelings for me.
But you must already know that I cannot return your feelings. I dare not look deeper to find out how I feel. Nothing good will come of it. If I discover that I have no feelings for you, it will only hurt you. If I discover that I do have feelings for you, it won't change the fact that I am also deeply, deeply in love with Anthony. I'm married to him. I've made a promise to commit my life to him. My heart is with him, and I never want to be without him. I cannot love two at the same time, and knowing that I have feelings for more than one will only hurt everyone. It is better for all of us to leave everything the way it is. Is this cowardly of me? Maybe. Still, I think it is for the best.
What I know for certain is that, had fate been different and destiny had put you in my life instead, my life would have been wonderful in a different way. While I cannot accept what you have to offer me, the loss is entirely mine.
There is one small thing I want to do for you. I have decided I will never dance the tango again. The last time I danced the tango, it was with you. I will give you my tango. My last tango will always be yours.
I wish I could do more in return for your love. It pains me that I cannot because I never wanted to see you hurt. I am sorry.
While I am glad that Anzio is behind us, I will forever be thankful that our lives have crossed because of it. Despite all the atrocities that had happened there, when I look back, I will always remember you as one of my best memories.
You will always be in my thoughts. Wherever I am, I will always be wishing you well.
— Tessa
The medical truck continued on. Jesse folded the letter and put it back into his pocket. He had lost count of how many times he had read it.
But you must already know I cannot return your feelings.
Hopeless. Everything was hopeless from the start.
Had fate been different and destiny had put you in my life instead, my life would have been wonderful in a different way.
Fate. Yes. Of course. Fate had always been good to him, except for the one time when it mattered to him.
I am deeply, deeply in love with
Anthony.
Anthony. Why did Anthony have to come into her life before him?
I don't want to be without him.
Those words pierced him like a dagger through his heart. He felt his heart dripping blood. He felt his insides shredded to pieces.
The box of medical supplies bounced and shook every time the truck hit a bump on the road. How many times had he mended the wounds of men and used those supplies to stop others from bleeding? The joke was on him. Nothing in the box could stop his own bleeding. Nothing could put the pieces of him back together.
When I look back, I will always remember you as one of my best memories.
Already, she was talking of him as a memory in the past. Was there no room for him in her present? No room at all?
The voice of the gypsy woman in Naples came back to him.
You're her guardian angel.
He laughed bitterly to himself. How? How could he be her guardian angel? They were hundreds of miles apart. They probably wouldn't see each other ever again. What could he possibly do for her now?
She'll know how important you are to her. In time.
Would she? When?
Fool. He was an utter, hopeless fool.
Why was he taking seriously the words of a vagrant gypsy?
The vehicles carrying Anthony and his men sped down the rocky road leading to Montélimar. Since the Orion strike team assembled and departed Saint-Tropez a week ago, he had been chasing Klaus. After the Free French Army defeated the Germans in Toulon and Marseille, Klaus had fled to join the German forces in Montélimar. The city was a German stronghold. If they let him reach there first, it would be that much harder to capture him. The strike team had to make good time if they wanted to catch the elusive German commander before then.
They had passed Toulon and were coming out of Marseille when Anthony's driver slowed the vehicle.
"Captain, look," the driver said. A straggling group of American soldiers was walking ahead of them. As the Orion convoy came closer, the America soldiers stopped and moved to the side of the road.
"Pull over," Anthony told his driver. The driver pulled up next to the soldiers, a group of five privates. Anthony needed to find out who they were. Every so often, lower-ranking soldiers would purposely get lost to get a break from fighting. He needed to make sure these boys were not ducking their duties.
"What are you all doing here?" Anthony asked. "Where's the rest of your unit?"
The five soldiers exchanged glances. One of them, a private first class and the highest ranked of the group, stepped up. "We're with the 142nd, sir. We are heading to Montélimar. We're…," he gave Anthony a sheepish smile, "we're a bit lost, sir. Our company ran into some Germans and we got separated."
So these boys were with the 36th Division. Anthony knew the 36th was heading to Montélimar. "Have any of your division units arrived yet?"
"Maybe, sir. We don't know. Our company went through a lot of hills on our way here. We weren't able to communicate with the other units most of the time. We had to slow down and walk a lot, too, 'cause of the terrain, and we kept running out of fuel."
Anthony looked behind him. His own headquarters vehicle was full. There was no room to fit anyone else with Fox, Ed Ferris, and Jesse, along with their radio operator and their team's French guide, Remy, all on board. The jeeps behind them carrying Jonesy and the rest of the soldiers on the strike team were full too. Only the supplies and artillery trucks still had room.
"We're going to Montélimar," Anthony said to the straggling soldiers. "Get into one of the supplies trucks in the back. You can ride with us till we get to the city."
"Yes, sir," the private answered. "By the way, sir, we've been seeing more and more Germans since we got into this area. They're hiding everywhere. We should be careful."
Anthony nodded. The soldier was right. They were entering German occupied zones. Just because it was quiet now didn't mean danger wasn't around the corner.
The privates walked away to the back of the Orion convoy. After they had all gotten into the supplies truck, Anthony motioned for his driver to continue, then called out to their radio operator. "Check with command. See if they have any info on German troop movements further up. See if our recon planes spotted anything."
"Yes, sir," the radio operator answered. While he tried to communicate with their regiment, Anthony sat back and looked at the road ahead. He worried that they might be running out of time.
Hours passed as the Orion convoy continued its way to Montélimar. For Jesse, the torturous boredom of the ride was enough to kill all his senses. No one in the vehicle was talking anymore. They had been riding for so long, all conversation had dried up. He wished there was some way he could relieve the monotony and doldrums.
The truck rolled along the bumpy country road, tossing the passengers up and down on the hard flat beaten seats. To escape the discomfort, Jesse closed his eyes and let his mind return to a night far away from where he was now. A night in Naples where tango music filled the air. A night when Tessa shared with him the one and only thing she had now promised to dedicate to him. Their tango dance.
If they ever saw each other again, he would hold her to her promise. He would make her dance with him no matter what.
The vehicle came to a sudden stop at a path leading into the woods. Next to the path, the corpses of several French soldiers lay on the ground. Jesse wondered how long these bodies had been there.
"Is this the only way to go?" Anthony asked their French guide. From the front of the truck, Anthony pointed to the path leading into the woods.
"It's the fastest and most direct way," the French guide said. "If we go around the forest, we'll have to go another thirty kilometers from here. A long detour east, and we'll have to pass through a lot of twisty roads and hills."
Anthony turned his sight toward the path, then at the road ahead. "We'll go through the forest," he said to the driver, then turned to their radio operator. "Tell everyone behind to move as fast as they can through the woods. And watch out for snipers."
"Yes, Captain," the radio operator responded and turned on their radio. The convoy moved on. From the back of their truck, Jesse watched Anthony talk to the driver.
Lucky bastard. Jesse turned his eyes back toward the road. There was a time when he had genuinely enjoyed Ardley's company. Ardley was almost a friend. Someone with whom he could have a thought-provoking conversation about things that the other men in the army didn't know much about, like books, philosophy, science.
If only they didn't love the same woman.
Good thing Ardley got promoted. His promotion gave Jesse a good excuse to distance himself. Now a captain, Ardley couldn't get too close to someone below his rank.
Better to keep their distance. The last thing Jesse wanted was to hear Ardley talk about Tessa.
Ardley had no idea though. For someone so competent and intelligent, Ardley was naively trusting of people he believed to be his friends. When he picked Jesse to lead the medical squad for the Orion strike team, Jesse almost wanted to shake the guy awake. It would've been funny if it wasn't so ironic. The newly minted captain hadn't the faintest clue that he had put his life in the hands of someone who had already betrayed his trust.
It was hard, having to see Ardley day in and day out, all the while wondering what could be if this person wasn't around. What if Ardley didn't exist?
Jesse glanced at Anthony again. What if, by some cosmic arrangement of the universe, he got a chance to find out?
Not liking where his train of thought was going, Jesse forced himself to put these questions away. Farther away in the woods, bodies of dead soldiers lay spread across the ground. Out of boredom, Jesse took out his binoculars to see whether they were French or American soldiers. Through the lenses, he caught the glimpse of a body not more than thirty feet away on the ground trying to get up.
"Stop! Stop the car," Jesse shouted to the driver in the front. The vehicle came to a quick halt.
"What i
s it?" Anthony asked.
Jesse held up his binoculars toward the woods. The man on the ground, obviously wounded, had fallen over again. "Someone's alive."
Everyone in the vehicle looked toward the injured soldier. Through his binoculars, Jesse could see the soldier was American. "He's one of ours!"
"Some of the 36th units must have passed through," Fox said.
Anthony stood up from his seat and looked out at the direction of the wounded soldier. Everyone in the truck waited nervously for his response. Each man braced himself for the worst, in case Anthony called on him to go save the wounded man.
Jesse looked through the binoculars again. The soldier was crawling. It seemed he had injuries to his legs. There was no way the man could escape without help. Jesse lowered his binoculars and waited for Anthony to give his order, but Anthony still hadn't said anything. Jesse could see Anthony was conflicted. The anxiety among the troops intensified as they waited to see what Anthony would do.
"Ardley…Captain," Jesse asked in a low, pleading voice, "won't you send someone to get him?"
Anthony turned away from the sight of the wounded man. "No. He's too far away. There are snipers hiding out there. I won't risk any of you getting killed." He sat back down on his seat.
Jesse looked out to the injured man and reached into his pocket for his lucky seven dice. Before Anzio, before Tessa, he would've volunteered to take the chance to bring the injured soldier back. He would've insisted on it.
That was then. Back then, his life was an open auction, good for a trade with any other life more worth living than his own.
Not anymore. His life had a purpose now. He couldn't play dare with the Fates like he used to. He had someone important to live for. As long as he was alive, he lived for her.
He closed his hand around the dice. No. He couldn't risk his life. There was always a chance…
"I'll go," said Ed Ferris, the new replacement. "Captain, let me go get him. I can run fast."
"I said no," Anthony refused. "You'll get yourself killed. Sergeant," he said to the driver, "get moving."