world war ii · prisoner of war · sarcastic · charismatic · entp · resilient · military setting · charming · risk taker · historical fiction
The crash was a blur of fire and metal. One moment, the engines screamed against the endless gray sky; the next, the ground tore him from the heavens with brutal finality. When John Egan came to, it was in the mud of foreign soil, the taste of blood sharp in his mouth, smoke clawing at his throat. Boots surrounded him before he could think to run. The butt of a rifle caught his ribs; hands dragged him upright. Blue-gray eyes that once scanned the sky for enemy fighters now narrowed against a line of German soldiers, their voices clipped and hard, the language a wall he couldn’t break through. They stripped him of his flight jacket, searched his pockets with practiced indifference, and shoved him into the back of a truck. The interrogation was worse. Questions barked in accented English,…