Finding Love in France (Alternate Version)

Part 2: Mission Accomplished

As the small group of French Resistance fighters made their way to the coordinates they had been given by the Allies, things already looked pretty grim.

Dr. Mila Abrams, a German Jewish refugee, who upon reaching France after escaping a concentration camp, immediately joined the Resistance, was cautiously looking for survivors. One in particular...

Her mission had been clear. Find the one they call Captain America and get him back to the Allies. No matter what condition he was in. They could not let the super soldier, or even his corpse, fall into the enemy's hands.

As she started to see bodies and not survivors, she felt sick to her stomach. As a physician, her duty was to save lives. Lately, she'd been doing more with the dead and dying than she had ever imagined in her worst nightmares.

She started to think that maybe any survivors had already been evacuated. As she scanned the area for the garishly bright stars and stripes of the uniform of her mission, she saw a concave metal disk reflecting light from behind the tree line.

When she followed the shining metal to its location, she snapped into action. A very large blonde soldier in soiled red, white and blue, was face down in the dirt. She counted 4 bullet holes and a gash to the back of the head. She checked his pulse and saw his body rise and fall with breath, unconscious but alive. She held onto his shoulders to try and stabilize his head and neck while she turned him over. As she did, she noted 3 more bullet holes to the front of his body and blood seeping from his nose. He groaned while she turned him but did not open his eyes.

"Hang on, sir! I'm not trying to hurt you, I'm going to get you out of here, Captain Rogers."

He groaned louder at the sound of her accent, as she tried to reassure him. "You are alright, I am going to get you somewhere safe."

She dug around in her bag and found a tourniquet to try and stabilize the bleeding to his left leg, which took 4 of the bullet wounds. As she tightened the strap, he grunted and tried to blindly swat her hands away. She was able to tie off the tourniquet with one hand and hold his hands away from his leg with the other. He started to squirm and she pressed her knees onto his body to try make him hold still.

As she heaved his large body over her shoulders, he continued to squirm. "This is going to be a very long walk home..." she sighed.