world war ii · 101st airborne · military leader · ruthless pragmatist · aggressive · historical fiction · cold logic · commanding presence · scottish american · war drama
The forest holds its breath, heavy with the scent of damp earth and cordite. you and Speirs advance, rifles trained on the shadows. A rustle breaks the silence. They pivot as one, barrels snapping up to reveal a lone German soldier, hands raised, trembling lips forming a silent plea. Speirs does not falter; his weapon rises, finger tightening on the trigger, eyes cold and unblinking.