Enter the dam

“This way!” Hobbs calls us, and leads us to a door.

“Stand back.” Clarke orders and fires a burst diagonally across the door, then steps up and kicks it in. I’m the third one inside, and quickly look about the room, which was empty.

The two of them lead Smirnov and I down a staircase, their MP40s at the ready, and burst into a room at the bottom of it.

I jump back when the room is filled with gunfire, and aim at the entrance, fearing the worst.

“It’s clear!” A voice calls out, and I breathe a sigh of relief, then enter the room with Smirnov. I take a brief look at the three German bodies, one of them an officer.

Suddenly, I hear an explosion from above, followed by gunfire,

“Fuck!” Clarke curses. “They’re here already? We need to move!”

“We should be close.” Hobbs tells us. “One more staircase, and we should be right where we need to be.”

“What about this one?” I ask, approaching a marked door.

“That’s it.” He confirms, and I give him a determined nod before carefully opening the door and creeping up to the corner at the top of the stairs. I ready the SVT, take a deep breath, and lean around the corner, prepared to fire. No target presents itself, and I creep ever so carefully around the corner and down the stairs. The door at the bottom is open.

I don’t know what awaits me at the bottom, and I know that if anyone is down there, they could see my legs before I can see them. I’m just going to have to be quick about it, and go in ready to kill or die.

Like a flash, I reach the bottom of the stairs and burst into the room, my weapon ready. There are two of them right in front of me, and I catch them off guard, blasting two through one of their chests before they can even react. As the other is turning I shift my sights onto him quickly and pull the trigger. I hit him in the head.

Time freezes for me. My weapon is up, but pointed ahead. A third fascist stands to my right, a pistol raised and aimed directly at me. You might as well carve my tombstone. He has me dead to rights.

I will never give up, and I will fight to the bitter end. Even though it may be a futile gesture at this point, I start to whip my rifle around to aim for him.

The moment he pulls the trigger, Smirnov enters the room and cuts in front of me. He’s hit in the torso and drops to the ground. I scream at the top of my lungs and empty my magazine into the fascist’s chest until my bolt locks back and my weapon clicks helplessly.

“Take care of him!” Clarke orders me, coming into the room with Hobbs.

I drop my weapon and rush to Smirnov’s side and roll him over while the other two scramble about the room.

“You’re going to be okay.” I tell him, taking his hand, already beginning to cry.

“Cut the bullshit, for once.” He groans, a pained look on his face. “I’m not as stupid as I look.” He coughs. “I know I’m fucked.”

“You took a bullet for me.”

“Not on purpose.” He tells me. “I tried to get that fuck but I wasn’t fast enough. At least you gave him what he deserved.”

“On purpose or not, you saved my life. Thank you.”

“Maybe it’s better for the world, that you live instead of me.” Smirnov suggests. “I’m just another asshole.”

“Oh come on!” I beg him. “Don’t say that!”

“People like you go on to do great things with their lives.” Smirnov tells me. “People like me… we’re expendable.”

“Nobody is expendable.” I tell Smirnov, tightening my grip on his hand.

“They are.” He says, nodding his head towards our dead enemies.

“Tatya.” He groans. I come closer to him.

“I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you.” He says weakly. “I was wrong about you. For what you’ve done, they should make you a Hero of the Soviet Union.”

Smirnov’s grip loosens on my hand and his head rolls back.

“GOD DAMN IT!” I scream, and beat on his chest with the bottoms of my fists.

“Come on!” Clarke yells out, running up to me and picking up my rifle. “We need to move!” He thrusts the rifle into my hands.

I stand up, sniffle, and wipe my tears as I take one last look at my comrade, then join the others. I catch up to Hobbs, frantically wiring a mound of explosives. I take a moment to reload my rifle.

“We’re in a bit of a pickle.” He says, turning over his shoulder.

“Ele-fucking-mentary, Watson!” Clarke yells at him. “I know!”

“No, it’s worse.” Hobbs responds. “They’re already here and we are out of time. We can’t risk this device being disarmed. Everything we’ve done will have been for nothing!”

“What are you getting at?” Clarke asks.

“To buy time….” Hobbs begins. “In order to get everybody else out….”

“What are you getting at?”

“One of us is going to have to stay.”