Cross my heart - Tommy Shelby

•5•

Warnings: mentions of PTSD, Swearing, death, injuries, blood

"Sergeant Fenton, you will report for duty at 0600 hours tomorrow morning."

"Yes sir. Who will I be with?"

"Solo Mission Sergeant. You will be flying over a suspected German camp across the battlefield. You will either confirm or deny our suspicions by reporting back to us."

"Yes Sir."

She hated solo missions, they were about ten times more likely to end in death. She just hoped to any God that may listen that she was kept safe.

~

"Why'd you have to go?"

"Because they asked me John- I'm not going to be shot up a post for cowardice and disobeying orders"

"Look- just stay safe Liza."

"I will, you stay safe too- I'll be back soon I promise."

She hoped for John's sake that she did come back soon, even though she had already accepted her own death and was prepared for what was to come.

~

It was safe to say that she was not prepared for this, a simple flight observation task she was prepared for- but not a crash in German territories.

The atmosphere was seemingly black, as the smoke levitated off of the fiery wreck of the plane.

She was disorientated and in pain. It hurt, her leg was leaking warm thick blood. It painted her hands and stained her flight suit.

Her foot was being pinned down by a heavy piece of the planes' body, while further up her leg there was a deep gash with some jagged metal buried in it. She'd given up with trying to take it out, as every time she tried it pushed deeper into her flesh.

She didn't know what to do. She was in enemy land with no way of communicating that she was down. She was as good as dead- but she wasn't going to go down without a fight. Not if she could help it.

She slowly began to pull her foot from the heavy trap as she bit down on her flight suit to mute her screams of pain.

She felt a release and looked down to see her leg was now free. There was a sense of relief as she shuffled back on her bottom away from the crash site.

Until she felt something hard it her back, something that didn't feel like a tree. But more resembled a pair of boots and legs, she looked up and towering over her was a soldier.

He'd obviously been the one to investigate the site to see if there was anyone to be found. It was obvious that the German soldier wasn't expecting to see a girl before him and was apparently in a state of potential shock.

She took the chance while she could, as she took out a pocket knife and plunged it into the mans neck.

She was sprayed in blood. She'd just killed a man- someone who's parents, siblings, wife and children were probably waiting for to come home. Only for it to be destroyed by her.

She wanted to vomit up her insides, the sight of the older man with dead eyes made her stomach churn uneasily.

But she had to survive. Using her wits, she stripped him of his uniform and swapped hers with his.

She dragged his body to the wreckage and tossed his body into the flames. The fire rose higher with the new sustenance that it had been presented. There- now it looked as if she had died on impact.