Women of War - A Band of Brothers Story

Depletion

A/N: Hey guys, look who's still alive! It's me. Gosh, I feel so bad for just disappearing for an entire month... I got hit with writer's block (I had the same problem when I was writing episode 8 for my other story), my personal life has been a bloody mess and work has also been insane thanks to the holidays. So I simply didn't have the mental or emotional capacity - or the time - to write.

If anyone has any ideas or inputs for what could/should happen next, I would be happy (and grateful) to hear your thoughts. I do have an outline of the most important plot points, but I have been stuck on the same scene for two weeks now, so any new perspectives are welcome.

As always, thank you all so so much for reading, voting and commenting. I can't tell you how much it means to me and I'm so excited that you guys enjoy the story.

Noville was in Allied hands. Due to their reduced numbers, Maxine assisted her platoon in clearing houses, doing a sweep for hiding enemy combatants, leftover weapons or any sort of exploitable intel.

They had reshuffled platoon assignments two days prior to compensate for the huge losses they'd taken, but it still wasn't enough. The latest batch of replacements would probably only catch up to them in a week or so.

"So who's gonna be First Sergeant after Lip's promotion goes through?", Frances asked as they left the last building on the street, turning back towards the town centre where the temporary CP had been established.

Maxine suppressed a cough. "My best guess would be Talbert. Malarkey's name also came up, but I didn't want to put even more weight on him right now."

Studying her from the side with keen eyes, Frances questioned: "Is that why you put Louise in charge of 2nd?"

The lieutenant sighed, which quickly turned into a cough. Malarkey was – also by his own admission – not in the right mental state to carry that responsibility. And while Louise was less experienced in terms of leadership because of her solo and tandem missions as a sniper, she had seniority and was more than up to the job.

"More or less", she allowed. "Until we're off the line, he's her second."

Frances nodded pensively, then cracked a laugh. "Bet you ten bucks that she and Liebgott are gonna have one of their spats before the month is out."

Maxine grinned and shook her head. "Oh no, I'm not going to touch that one. The last time I took one of your bets was enough, thank you very much."

"Aw, come on, that was–"

BOOM!

***

Mia had been crouched by a fallen soldier's side a few yards down the debris-lined road when the explosion ripped through the street. Momentarily left deaf and blind, she barely had time to flinch before the blast winds picked her up and tossed her aside.

With a groan, she rolled over and came onto all fours. She spat out some dirt, tried to get her bearings. The side of her face throbbed. Her gaze caught on two dark lumps up the road. She struggled upright, squinting through the settling dust.

Then recognition hit her and her heart dropped.

She flew over, paying no mind to her own off-kilter worldview and buzzing ears. She only had eyes for the prone, crumpled figures of Maxine and Frances, looking not unlike corpses as they lay amidst the rubble, covered in stone dust.

When Mia reached them, battered kneepads skidding through a slowly growing puddle of blood, Frances was crying. Maxine completely still and unmoving.