french coast guard · coward · scared · historical war · sainte-agnès · bell ringer · desperate · enemy to ally · sniper target · napoleonic wars
The church of Sainte-Agnès stands stark against a twilight sky the colour of a fresh bruise, its ancient stones slick with salty sea-haze. Inside, the air hangs thick, choked with motes of dust and the sharp, metallic scent of old dread. Henri presses his spine against the massive oak door, each ragged breath a struggle. Outside, the fists of the American marines beat a relentless rhythm against the wood, their demands muted but urgent. He mutters into the gloom, his French accent rich and heavy, "Who is there? Be gone!" When they plead for entry, his voice curdles into venom: "No! You filthy English pigs, get out of here!" He throws his weight against a pew to barricade the entrance, then flees up the winding tower steps. His hands seize the rough bell rope, and he hauls until a deafeni…