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As Taylor took down another mouthful of the foul food, the doors down the corridor slid open. It was too early to be taking back the bowls, and not a likely time to be interning a new prisoner. He put his bowl down on the bed and stood up in curiosity. Three sets of footsteps strode down the hall towards his cell. Can’t be Dupont, he’s never without his paper pusher.

Taylor tensed up and froze in anticipation that he might see a friendly face. Then she appeared before him in a dreamy moment. He felt all hopelessness fade away as he saw Chandra’s face. He was as much relieved to see she was still alive, as he was that she had not given up on him. The guards stopped at his cell with the Major between them.

“You’ve got five minutes,” one of them snarled.

The guards strode off back down the corridor. They had not opened the doors to his cell. They never extended any courtesy to Taylor. It made him wonder how on earth Chandra managed to get in, but his moment of joy faded as he saw the sombre tone in her face. He leapt forward to the cell bars.

“I thought you’d forgotten me,” he cried.

“Never! But you’re at the top of Schulz’s shit list, and I’ve been through hell trying to get some contact with you.”

“What finally made him sway?”

She looked down gravely before finally meeting Taylor’s eyes once again. He had a thousand questions, but there were few she didn’t want to answer. She realised she had no choice but to explain all their woes, even though it could destroy the Major’s resolve.

“Since your imprisonment, we have been hit hard. Stripped of our equipment and thrown onto the front line. It’s taken a heavy toll. Schulz has had us out on suicidal missions, and more than our fair share.”

“What are you trying to tell me, Major?” insisted Taylor.

She sighed as she tried to find the words to explain.

“One of our platoons was ordered forward today, to go beyond no man’s land and scout ahead of an engineer party. That platoon was led by Captain Friday. Several hours into the mission, they were attacked in the heavy woodland on the western side, and Friday was struck in the fight.”

“And, is he okay?”

Taylor thought back to the early days of the war, and how little protection they had against the enemy energy weapons. His face turned to dread as it became clear what she was saying.

“I am sorry to say that Captain Friday died of his wounds during the firefight, along with Private Rollings.”

Taylor turned and gasped in shock. He stopped breathing for a few seconds as he stared at the back wall of his cell. Shortly after, his shock turned to anger, and he rushed back at the cell bars and threw his body against them.

“Why? Why the fuck, am I still in here? This is Schulz’s doing!”

Chandra looked in despair at Mitch’s furious anger.

“Tell me it wasn’t those two bastard Generals who caused this!”

She shook her head, not able to contradict him.

“They could have sent anyone out there. Someone had to do it, and that someone was Friday,” stated Chandra.

“Fuck!” he screamed. “Those bastards are going to pay for this!”

“Ultimately, it was the enemy that killed Friday. It was the Krycenaeans that started this war. It was them who killed our friends and brought this destruction to our world. We can do nothing to Schulz and Dupont, but if we can get you out, then you can get some payback against those alien bastards.”

Taylor strode forward more calmly, leaned in against the bars and dipped his head. He squeezed the bars with a strong clenched grip, trying to release some of his anger.

“That is what they are called? Krycenaeans?” he muttered.

“Yes. Since you rescued Jones, we have learnt a few things about our enemy. That is what they call themselves.”

Taylor’s sullen tone suddenly lifted slightly.

“Charlie? How is he?”

“I have only seen him a couple of times. He’s been taken to a recovery facility further east. Honestly? He’s a wreck. Whatever they did to him… well, he may never recover.”

“Jesus, we’re dropping like flies. Have you been reinforced?”

Chandra shook her head. She couldn’t believe it either.

“What? Who are your platoon leaders?”

“Yorath, Suarez and now Silva. Green was wounded a week ago.”

Taylor sighed.

“What is the fighting strength of the Company?”

She did not respond.

He looked up and stared into her eyes. He could see it was an answer she didn’t want to give. He glared until finally she folded.

“Sixty-five at present.”

“And your people won’t send any fresh troops?”

“British forces are already fighting further north of here. They arrived last week. There is still speculation of a new front being started in Northern France.”

“They’re going to tackle the Normandy beaches? Jesus!”

“We all hope it’ll happen, but I guess they need to know there’s a good chance of success. It’s not like we have anywhere to run if Britain falls.”

Taylor paced up and down the room. He was glad to finally be getting some news, but it made him all the more furious that he was locked up and unable to help his comrades.

“You have to get me out of here!”

“I am well aware of that, but what am I supposed to do?”

“Anything! Everything!”

“I’m doing everything in my power to make it happen, but you’ll just have to wait. The war rages on, but the front line has reached a stalemate. At the moment, nobody is inclined to look at your case.”

“You think we have broken their momentum?”

“It certainly looks that way, but I’d hate to jump to conclusions. We have underestimated them more than once before at a terrible cost,” she replied.

“What am I going to do? I’m going fucking crazy in here. I’m a marine, and I am here to fight.”

“There’s nothing you can do. I’ll keep pushing and see if I can at least see you again soon. You’ll be needed before long, so hold on.”

Taylor’s face was bleak. She could see the weeks of isolation had taken a lot from him, and it pained her that she had nothing but bad news to convey. The guards appeared at the end of the corridor striding quickly towards her.

“Time’s up!”

She looked back to Taylor, trying to think of some last words of comfort.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For getting through to me. I know it can’t have been easy.”

“The Company needs you, Major. The world needs you. Without soldiers like you, we are lost. You hold out and stay strong.”

The guards formed up beside her and led her out of the prison, as Taylor watched the only friend he had seen in weeks disappear once again. Seeing her face had given him hope, but having spoken to her, he realised how bad his situation was. He lay back down on the bed, the only luxury he was provided, and slipped into a dream.

Friday had been one of Taylor’s best friends. In war and peace, they had always stood together. He had always thought that if they were to fall, it would be together. That night his dreams turned to nightmares as he pictured how the Captain had died based on Chandra’s description. The same images plagued him night after night until he lost track of time.

Each day he pushed his body harder, as he had little else to do but find new and creative ways to exercise in the small cell that had become his home. The only relief was not to be in a wet trench in the cold nights, but he’d give up the relative comfort and warmth to be among his comrades once again in a second. He woke up every night in sweats as his mind was filled with scenes of death and destruction.

He’d seen countless friends killed and heard of many more meeting the same fate. Then his mind slipped to the mounds of bodies he’d seen at the prison when they rescued Jones and the others. He wondered what could bring any race to such cruelty and slaughter. The human race had moved past it, so how could such a technologically advanced race still be stuck in such primitive ways?