Wrong Side of the Wire [Liam] <Rated R>

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Ed walked on and sighed heavily as he made his way into the next town. It had been quite some time since he had been able to fully relax with all the small confrontations that seemed to lash out at him and his day in and day out. This day was different, he had been able to pull back from the chaotic front lines and take a very small stint of R&R, but this was more of Re-arm and Re-deploy instead of Rest and Relaxation. He had been separated from his men almost three hours earlier which wasn't far when it came to walking distance, but he didn't mind, he was in friendly territory and could handle himself. First things first... Ed thought as he walked past a few shops on the edge of town ...Find a place to sleep for the night. so Ed stopped at the first place that looked good, a local pub with a dimly lit atmosphere, very few occupants, and plenty of alcohol.

Ed more or less just walked into the door of the establishment with his shoulder, no real attempt to use his hands to push the door open. He was too exhausted and with all he had been through the past couple of weeks the smack of a door was more than welcome instead of flying shrapnel, bullets and the occasional spatter of blood from a sailing limb. The room grew far more quiet once McMillan stepped into the light. It seemed this place was mostly left alone by the war. Ed could see why, poor construction, horrible location, and no real resources to fuel an army. He looked around slowly at the customers of the place who looked back at him almost in bewilderment. Must not get a lot of soldiers around here. Ed casually nodded his head and headed down through the mixed array of tables and chairs, most of the people went back to their conversations or whatever it was that was occupying their time. Ed pulled up a stool at the far end of the bar and shucked his gear from it's roost on his shoulder onto the floor at the base of his stool.

Ed cleared his throat and looked toward the bartender "Bar keep." he said in a low but carrying tone. The man started to approach but didn't get two steps before Ed continued with a sharp. "Whiskey please." the portly man nodded and threw his hand towel over his shoulder before reaching under the counter grabbing a bottle and a glass. He quickly walked them over to McMillan and when he set them down Ed reached out quickly and grabbed his hand. A look of shock and timidness consumed the man's face as he hesitantly looked into Edward's face. "Where the hell am I?" Ed grimaced as he asked quietly.

The man behind the counter swallowed harshly before he responded. "Thi-this is the t-town of 'Nevers' sir. Just a small out of the way place l-lucky enough to h-have been mostly left out-t of the war. It's a p-peaceful town sir." the man stumbled over his words and seemed to flinch when Ed tossed his hand away so that he could go about drinking his whiskey.

With a sharp tug McMillan uncapped the bottle and poured the contents into the small cup all the way to the top then he lazily set the bottle back on the counter with a dull thud. The bartender looked as if he were going to come over to put the bottle back, but Ed snarled something fierce and the keep just let him be.

After a few quick shots of whiskey and several long and unpleasant stares Ed tossed several coins onto the counter rudely and collected his gear on the floor. He heaved it onto his shoulder and started to walk toward the door when things became unleveled for him. He made it to the door with a bit of effort and the support of a table. "I can see why nobody wants to occupy this hell hole!" Ed shouted as the door closed behind him. McMillan was drunk to say the least and it seemed to take him an hour to make it to the end of the block only to almost be run over by a passing motorist. By the time Ed could take a firm grip on his pistol and bring it to bare, the vehicle was long gone.

BANG, BANG, BANG Ed knocked ever so loudly on the nearest residence. After a few moments a light came on upstairs and a window opened afterward. "Put me up for the night old man!" Edward demanded as he swayed in the evening air.

"Go away you drunk bastard!"[/i] was yelled back at McMillan.

"My apologies Madam, slee-hic well" Ed answered back. Least she had the balls to tell me off, calling her an old man probably didn't help my chances. He thought as he smiled and stumbled along into the darkness. The wind was cooling to Ed as the sweat beaded on his brow. The next home Ed came to got the same treatment, a loud knocking but this time the door just creaked open. Well that makes life easier Ed thought as he stepped in and tried to find a place to sit. McMillan was startled as he looked around. Who the hell burns down a completely nice place to sleep? Only two walls and a door had survived the fire and Ed once again was back on the street in search of a bed, and a toilet.Third time's a charm bounced in his mind as he walked up to the third door of the night. Before he could knock the door flew open.

"You are not welcome here sir!"[/b] A young man spat at Edward with great disdain. "You must find another location for you tonight!"[/i] and the young lad went to slam the door in his face but a large calloused hand reached out and stopped it violently.

"I don't think that is going to be the case boy!" Ed sneered at the overly tall sack of potatoes blocking his path. With a deliberate step inside the door the boy stepped back a decent distance as Ed stood up fully in the entrance to the home. The lad's father came in quickly and motioned for Ed to come in. Little late. Ed thought as he walked into the sitting area in the front of the home.

"Please come with me sir." he spoke quickly as he passed Edward to close the front door. And then headed off down the hallway to take McMillan upstairs.

"But Papa, he's the enemy."[/i] the boy shouted toward Ed's back.

"Don't mind him sir, his younger sister was killed off in the woods by gunfire. He has been very upset since the incident.[/i] the man of the house explained. But the truth was that the family was fully supportive of the Allies and their efforts to rid Europe of the German and Italian forces. The man's daughter had been killed by SS men only weeks before, information that he would not reveal to Edward.

Ed rolled his eyes as he walked behind the man. "Forgive me if I'm not interested in your troubles, I have plenty of my own, all I need is a bed for the night and I will be on my way. Here, take this for your troubles." McMillan said as he handed the man a handful of jewels in a small leather bag that he had confiscated off his men when they had raided a town a few days prior. Ed didn't mind if they took food or water or bandages so long as they allowed the citizens to keep what they would need, but pointless pillaging was something he was adamant about not letting happen. The man nodded and showed Ed his room for the night. Ed nodded kindly and closed the door behind him. His gear made a loud and muffled thud when it slammed into the floor. Ed peeled off his boots and clothing before wiping himself down with a rag placed next to a bowl of water on a table in the corner of the room. Within minutes Ed had found some clothes that were large enough to fit him and he was out cold almost the minute his head hit the pillow.

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

Veering along a narrow dirt path at a speedily forty miles an hour plus, Captain Brentwood swerved around a tight hairpin bend and gritted his teeth in sheer horror as he felt the back wheels spin out and the jeep begin to fishtail uncontrollably for a heart stopping moment of time. Thinking quickly, Liam turned the wheel into the direction of the fishtailing back-end and then throttled it back the opposite way instantly as the backend caught up with it’s self, gaining friction between the treads in the tyres. Exhaling with a sigh of relief, Liam knocked the gear-stick down a notch to regain a proper tread on the tyres and obviously, stop the vehicle from stalling attempting to pull away in a higher gear and render the engine useless.

Pulling away and gaining speed again, Liam glanced to his rear-view mirror attached to the foldable windscreen of the jeep and watched in horror as two Nazi motorbikes with side-carts trudged through the thicket of mud and slime within his wake from losing control momentarily. Their voices were getting louder, as he heard the four men on both bikes yell at one another in their rough German accents, most probably devising a plan to get his jeep off the road - perhaps one would take lead, whilst the other hung back? The road was narrowing between the trees and there was no way they could overtake him, not without a major fault in doing so. Feeling the time trim shorter and shorter before they opened fire, Captain Brentwood took his initiative at hand and upholstered his Browning High-Powered pistol, glancing backwards over the seat to take rough aim and start popping off rounds at the closely knit motorbikes a mere fifteen yards behind his jeep and speedily approaching.

Immediately facing front again, Liam glared at his rear-view mirror and watched as the motorbikes swerved slightly at the passing shots, but simply continued to speed up on. The Germans were covered in mud from the dirt-track in the woodlands and their goggles beneath their heavy helmets made them look like demons in the mist, more so as one of the motorbikes took lead over the other and the passenger in the side-cart began to withdraw a STG44 from within the cart, beginning to take aim on the jeep like a floundering green metal duck, that simply had no where else to go but forwards, due to the heavy foliage and trees either side of the dirt track.

KAKAKAKA! was all Liam heard, as bullets zipped overhead and clunked against the rear of his jeep, a round pivoting through the right window of the two on his front window screen, making an acorn sized hole with glass spurting across the passenger seat besides himself (driver’s seat on the left, due to the jeep being American manufactured). All Liam could do was duck against the steering wheel and swerve the vehicle subtly side to side, which wasn’t near enough to avoid the bullets raining against the vehicle chassis from the rear. “You Nazi born bred bastards…” he snarled to himself in bitter anger, flinching as a round sparked off his dashboard and ricocheted upwards with a deafening twang. As the fire ceased, Liam cautiously sat up a little and looked towards the untouched rear-view mirror, watching as the Nazi began to reload his assault rifle with a fumbling attempt inside of the cart, finding it a little tricky to keep stable as the motorbike bumped over the uneven turf.

Thinking quickly, Liam took a gamble and used his brains. Grabbing his Browning pistol cradled between his legs, he leant over the seat and purposely faced the motorbike’s driver with a full on stare, aiming down the barrel, causing the driver of the motorbike to hastily swerve and look away from the jeep, concentrating on the road. Hitting the break, Liam almost instantaneously put the jeep into reverse to start moving backwards in a daring attempt. With the motorbike not breaking, simply speeding along, but having been distracted by the purpose point of aim to his face by Liam - he was more concerned about not being shot, than notice the jeep break and suddenly start veering backwards straight at them. The German passenger began to yell in sheer horror as he did however see the jeep suddenly stop and start moving backwards, his hands dropping his unloaded STG44 and embracing the side-cart expecting an impact that was inevitable.

Crashing into the back of the jeep, at an angle where the German driver attempted to swerve out of the way, sent the motorbike and sidecar off the dirt track upon it’s side. Hurling both the Nazis within completely clear off the vehicle, as they tumbled down the ditch aside of the road. Turning his attention to the second motorbike also caught off guard, but breaking successfully having not been as close as the first German motorbike, Liam hastily sat up from his seat and began popping rounds off at the two German soldiers on the second motorbike, watching as the driver flailed backwards having been shot first and his passenger following the same suit quickly, only having shot a single round in complete haste form his STG44, that bounced off the jeep nowhere near Liam. Breathing heavily from adrenaline, Liam turned his attention to the crashed motorbike off the side of the road with it’s occupants slowly rising from the dirt, darting behind cover. Thinking no more about it, Liam simply fell back into his seat and shifted the jeep back into gear, feeling his back wheels spin as he attempted to pull away quickly, flinching as one of the soldiers shot at the jeep from down in the ditch.

Thankfully, he got away quick enough and couldn’t help but have a fat grin on his face from having pulled off such a manoeuvre that should have ideally cost him his life. “Oh sweet Jesus” he muttered to himself, thumping his steering wheel in bitter victory, as the dawning realisation of being behind enemy lines and lost invaded his mind quicker than a whippet. Driving along, he looked to his pistol resting against his lap and noticed the pullback on the barrel hadn’t fixed back into place after his last shot. Turning the weapon over upon his lap, he looked at the empty chamber and grumbled as he soon realised he had ran out of ammo; his only ammo.

He must have drove for ten minutes straight through the dense woodlands, during that time having checked whatever compartments within his jeep for any more weaponry, ammunition or a map even. Liam had borrowed the jeep to take a mere drive to a countering Allied occupied town, he followed the road signs completely accurately, but during the Nazis sly push against the Allied advancements, they must have changed the signs completely; therefore leading Liam behind lines abruptly and completely lost more so. He was heading into the unknown, until he noticed buildings in the distance, dead ahead.

Stopping the jeep, he sat silent just staring ahead towards the town. He couldn’t go back and a diversion through the woodlands would get him completely lost. At least he was on a road to somewhere? With dwindling fuel. If he didn’t snag some fuel soon, he would be on foot in the middle of nowhere, with absolutely no rations or self defence, than an empty rifle he surely wouldn’t bluff the enemy with and the clothes upon his back. He did have his binoculars hanging around his neck though. Perhaps he could check out the town? Do a quick ‘reccy’ and see whether it’s friendly occupied. It was worth a shot, his only real option. “Well, let’s check you out then” he mumbled, relatively calm for the predicament he was in, but he had to be. Shifting the catch upon the side of his pistol, he locked the unloaded chamber upon the barrel back into place and merely tossed the unloaded weapon onto the passenger seat. If enemy were in the town and were to be alerted his presence, at least they’d think before shooting and see he was unarmed. The thought of being taken prisoner riddled an irremovable taste to his mouth, but as long as he survived to fight another day, he couldn’t give a toss!

Climbing out of the jeep, he removed his officer’s hat and tossed it into the back of the jeep, followed by his tunic distinguishing him as an officer. Folding it up, he tucked it under the driver’s seat and snugly fitted his cap in beside it, so if he was taken prisoner and the jeep was searched, they hopefully wouldn’t find his pieces of uniform with any rank insignia on, but he had to keep his uniform however, just in case the town was Allied occupied. Keeping his belt on and re-attaching his body webbing to his white vest, he grabbed his binoculars in one hand and made off into the woodlands, preparing to do a quick recon.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

BAAAAANG!!

A shot rang out and McMillan sprang from his temporary bed, pistol in hand. He looked around quickly to remember where he was and noticed the window was shattered. He slowly put his feet on the floor and stood up, he realized there were no pieces of glass on him. The shot didn't come from outside then. flashed across his mind as he raised his hand-cannon to get a firm grip on it with the other hand as well. Holding his pistol out into the moon lit room Ed slowly made his way around and found nothing, but his bedroom door was open.

Trying to be as silent as he could manage McMillan made his way throughout the home. Everyone was gone, the beds were empty, they had even been made. The hallways were clear, as were the kitchen, sitting area and the foyer. McMillan returned to his chambers to collect his gear and it too was missing, all he had was the pistol he had slept with. How did they get in here without waking me? How the hell did they get my gear?! Ed started to worry, what had he walked in to? What kind of town was this? He wanted answers, but mostly he wanted his weapons and uniform back. In haste Ed threw on some clothes and bolted out of the house through the exterior kitchen door into the back alley. He could hear a small commotion in the direction opposite the main road and started toward it. I don't remember the side alleys being this long...of course I don't, I was drunk Ed would have smiled but the matters at hand were very serious, he had to focus.

Ed turned the back corner after slowing from a full sprint and standing before him was a small gathering of people...odd people. Ed's curiosity peaked when one of them locked eyes with him and then kept moving as if he wasn't even there. "Excuse me!" he shouted toward the small crowd. The people never looked up, they just kept moving around what looked like a vehicle as if to hide something. They've got to have my gear. No one else is around, not to mention they are acting very suspiciously Ed slowly approached them keeping his pistol behind his leg as to not startle anyone. Ever so slowly he came closer to them, no one ever seeming to care that he was there. The cobblestones were cold on Ed's feet and slick from the dew. Right, next time grab shoes he thought as a small rock made him hesitate before continuing. Not until Ed was within arms reach of the crowd did they acknowledge his presence...all at once.

Blood curdling screams came screeching out of their mouths, there were only four of them remaining, the fifth had run off shortly before Ed arrived at them. The sound was almost unbearable. Ed squinted as he pushed passed them only see another man behind them. He wore an SS uniform as he knelt on the ground. Then suddenly the screaming stopped and all four crowd members fell to the ground like bags of sand. What the hell?! Ed looked around at them wondering what was going on. He looked back at the SS soldier just as the man stood up, he was one of the few men Ed had ever seen in a German uniform as big as Ed himself. Wait, why did they look so familiar? Ed turned once more to the men on the ground, they were dead, blood was slowly maneuvering through the depressions in the stones under him. He just couldn't place the faces in his mind but he was sure he had seen them before. McMillan turned back to the SS man and he was no longer there but Ed sure did notice the vehicle, it was nothing a civilian would own, it was military. To put it precisely it was a tank. Ed's eyes widened. He spun on his heels quickly to run back down the alley but he never took a step the SS man had been behind him and now Ed was staring down the barrel of gun, a handgun. McMillan almost smiled as he pulled his hand from behind his leg My pistol, what the hell!?! it was gone. Ed stopped breathing when he noticed the one in his face was his very own. He looked down the length of the weapon into the man's face. That scar looks pretty rou-HOLY SHIT!!! the hammer fell...bang...it was over.

Ed jumped up from his bed covered in sweat, the sheets were sticking to him and he was out of breath. He threw the sheets back, his pistol was still next to him. Looking back over his shoulder the window was still intact. His gaze rushed to the other side of the room, his gear and uniform were still resting on the chair in the corner. Ed walked to the door, it was still locked and all was quiet. Seriously need to cut back on the combat. Ed poured a glass of lukewarm water and gulped it down before walking over to the window and pushing it open. He leaned out and let the breeze flow passed him. Looking back to his gear he eyed his cigarettes and walked over to grab them. He lit one up and enjoyed on the rooftop just under his window. "What a nightmare." Must be the strange places so often getting to me.

Ed finished up his hand rolled piece of poor health and climbed back into the room to drift off to sleep once more.

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

Treading carefully across the tattered dirt littered with twigs, dried leaves and uneven surfaces, Captain Brentwood made adamantly sure he made as little noise as possible the closer he drew towards the small rural looking village, where plumes of smoke billowed from chimney tops and small, but significant movement, caught his eye as drapes were drawn back upon sparse windows and the odd early morning riser wandered down the cobbled bathed street casually. The town had to be occupied, one way or another, just simply due to it’s comparative position between both forces moving through France; if the Allies had have passed through the town, then no doubt the Germans were lingering somewhere. If Liam knew whether he was behind Enemy lines or not properly, he’d be able to make a better judgement, right now however, he was following his hunches and had to make brash decisions on the spur of the moment. He’d never felt so alive in doing so.

Clambering over a fallen tree with little effort, rotted by the ages and seemingly moulded into the ground by time, Captain Brentwood slide onto his stomach and dug his knees deep into the dry dirt and leaves. Beginning a seemingly paced combat crawl through the little foliage, he suddenly reverted back to his commando days and began to feel his body autopilot into a long lost role he thought he’d forgotten so long ago. Crawling seamlessly quiet across the ground, he kicked his leg into the ground and shifted his body to barrel roll down a small ditch where a good view below onto the village could be granted. Once he’d fallen into the position, he etched closer to the edge of a steep drop down the hillside and withdraw his binoculars from a pouch at his waist, not wanting them to get in the way or worse, broken, during his descent through the woodlands.

Drawing them to his eyes, he peered off down across the terrain with a near perfect clear view of the entire street, with a majority of the small village houses aligned either side of the main cobbled road. He focused intently on each moving figure, checking for aspects of uniform, weaponry or unusual posture. Who knows, the Germans may have occupied the town for secretive reasons and ploy themselves as locals, for whatever reasons? Captain Brentwood was certainly thinking out of the box, perhaps too much so, but in Liam’s mind, you could never be too sure…

After a prolonged gaze across the small village, he didn’t notice any particulars the corresponded to ‘any’ type of military inhabitancy. Perhaps the village was one of the small places on Earth that could be known as ‘a peaceful corner’ perhaps? It didn’t seem likely, considering he was chased by fuel injected Nazis not so far back, perhaps the town was more dangerous than it seemed? Whatever the answer was, Captain Brentwood needed fuel, food, water and ammunition at most. The least he could get from infiltrating the town, was either food and water or some fuel. He wasn’t so sure the locals carried anything more dangerous than a pitchfork and shovel. Perhaps if he acted coyly amongst them he would gain a better perspective of the village in general? Liam’s lips coiled into a formidable grin at the mad thought of simply walking into the village and wandering it’s street in a perspective to gain knowledge on any parked vehicles he could siphon gas from later or even spot any unlocked residences he could creep into and pinch some resources. He was thinking like a crook, but he was expecting he worse scenario of Nazi occupants or even Nazi sympathisers in the town.

Taking a long look around, he made a fallback zone for himself during any instances he were to flee, then at least he would know his way back to his vehicle from the point the was making the recon from. To tag the location, he removed his body webbing and conspicuously wrapped it around some nearby foliage, he even removed his belt with the holster and draped it across another fern of foliage, so he could allocate his fallback niftily. Now Liam looked casual, wearing a white vest, pair of trousers and mudded boots. Removing his dog-tags, he slipped them into the back pocket on his trousers, not exactly wanting to leave them behind, so people could identify his body or identify him for who he was if arrested by the Germans at a push - then he remembered a crucial aspect he’d completely forgotten about, his boot knife. So he wasn’t entirely unarmed, but he wasn’t entirely armed either. With a small six inch flat blade tucked into his boot, he had something he could break the tie-ropes with perhaps?

“Let’s hope these Frenchies don’t piss me off…”[/I] he mumbled idly, mentally preparing himself to quite literally walk through the small village; perhaps cautiously to start. After a minute’s worth of doing any final preparations, he climbed to his feet and slyly made his way down the hillside, making a crazy dash across the several yards of open ground, falling heavily behind a small chicken coop behind one of the first houses in the village. The noises from the chickens should have covered his heretic noise, having dashed into a sprint momentarily, before he sneakily moved across the back of the house, looking in through the windows carefully as he moved. He ideally he needed to scout the street first, before he made any rash decisions towards breaking and entering for possible supplies.

Moving along the narrow pathway between two houses, he moved out onto the main street very sheepishly and carefully began a nervous walk across the sidewalk, remaining close to cover of the houses he passed and making continuous mental notes of what he saw as he walked. Then his eyes caught the first sight of an automobile parked inside of a small driveway to a household dead ahead, there was also a rusty old truck being loaded with sacks of vegetables outside of a small shop towards the end of the street. Otherwise, there wasn’t any other visible vehicles near nor by. There wasn’t any sign of conflict or military occupation either, no flags, no military vehicles or any type of conflict within the town it’s self; no apparent bullet holes, explosive craters or scattered cartridges. It was just, peaceful.

Biting his lower lip, Liam was bent on adrenaline and ideally couldn’t afford to wait until nightfall to make any decisive moves, particularly with no hostilities around, the place was just a civilian haven. He needed fuel more than anything else. He could go a few days or more without food, ammunition wasn’t a necessity either, he knew how to be careful, but what he really needed was fuel to make ground quickly back towards the Allied frontier, before the Germans advances decisively too much, that he was stuck behind enemy lines permanently. The longer he left his journey back towards the Allies, the harder and more difficult it would be. As of now, he still stood a strong chance of making it home safe, he just needed to bide his time and use it wisely, quickly.

Moving towards the small village house with the only automobile visible in the street (asides the truck being loaded with goods), he hurried along the path quickly and made his way up the few steps leading towards the main door, his eyes forever looking over the automobile as he moved by. He was about to do something incredibly daring and perhaps stupid, but he had no other option at hand. He didn’t have any tubing to siphon the vehicle and neither would that be a good idea in broad daylight and he didn’t have the time to waste to wait around. The same restrictions applied for breaking into the vehicle and just stealing it, he couldn’t afford to be injured by any bystanders attempting to be heroic and neither did he want to mess up during taking the vehicle and jeopardise everything - this only left one option.

(I’m going to control one or two of the family members momentarily JT, hope that’s alright by you)

Knocking at the door with a few firm thumps, he waited patiently and kept his head down, avoiding the spy hole on the door. After several seconds, the door clicked open and an middle aged male stood stern within the doorway. Liam’s eyes turned a shade of yellow in the brisk light, as he angrily and quickly shoved his way through the doorway, grabbing the man by his throat before he could even question his presence or what he wanted. Shoving the man backwards and stepping in through the door quickly, he slammed it behind himself and turned to the quivering man, stuttering something incoherently, to grab by his shirt and slam against the back of the street door. “Shut up…” Liam hissed, covering the man’s mouth as he looked around behind himself momentarily, wondering if anyone noticed the commotion, wondering if anyone else lived there with him? “I’m not going to hurt you, do you speak English?” he questioned, watching as the man nodded behind Liam’s hand covering his mouth. “Good, now I’m going to let you speak, but if you dare make a commotion, I’ll silence you…” he warned, slowly releasing his hand from the man’s mouth, watching as he swallowed hard, staring in sheer shock.

Liam stiffened as he heard noises coming from upstairs and stood stern for a moment, before facing the man again. “You have a family here?” he questioned, the man merely nodding, too afraid to speak. “Well I’m not going to hurt you or your family, I just need your bloody vehicle - alright?” the man nodded nervously, finally saying something. “You can have it… Are you an British soldier? Spy?”[/i] he quizzed, causing Liam to merely stare. “It doesn’t matter who I am” he said, silencing the man, who began to stutter even more nervously. “B-B-But, upstairs, a Ger--”[/I] he started, but not quite being able to finish as a young boy walked into the room from the kitchen outback, staring at Liam and his father with a blank stare; Liam released the man slowly in respect of the child’s presence - surprisingly - and smiled weakly as he looked between the father and son. “Just get me those keys to your vehicle and any food you can spare - I’ll be waiting here with your boy” Liam subtly threatened, as he moved towards he young boy and ushered him towards the seats in front of the burning fireplace, coaxing him to sit down with a firm hand. Liam was making some strong moves, but it was essential to say the least…

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Ed finally awoke in the late hours of the morning with a slight headache and an overly dry throat. He moaned as he raised himself up and placed his feet on the floor, head in hand. He rubbed his hand through his hair and scratched the back of his neck lightly. "Well that was an interesting night." he mumbled to himself as he stretched his hands over his head and extended his legs to point his toes. Then McMillan stood up and walked over to the dresser to splash some water on his face. He took a look in the mirror facing him. Well if I ever lose the ability to speak I'll have enough scars to tell the story for me. he thought with a disappointed look on his face. He washed up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes then he noticed that there was a shaving razor laid out for him. "Thanks, but no thanks." he said as if there had been someone offering it to him. Ed turned to the chair and took another cigarette. He opened the window and leaned out into the day. Guess I'll stay inside for this one, people out and about might think it odd a man smoking on a rooftop. so he lit it where he stood and enjoyed it watching the townsfolk go on with their lives. It was odd how they seemed as if there wasn't a war going on almost all around them.

Ed slowly smoked his cigarette and relaxed. Once he finished the started getting ready to head out for the day and see if he could locate any German troops in the area. He pulled a mp from his jacket pocket then threw it back on the chair. After he opened it up he ran his fingers over it to locate his current position and after a few odd looks was able to do so. Should be able to head north by northeast and find someone to join up with easy enough, at least they'll have a bunk and some rations until I have to head back to the front lines. he coughed a few times then leaned over to spit out of the window before returning to the map and folding it carelessly. He grabbed up his jacket and slid the map back into the interior pocket he had sewn in then pulled it over his arms, he didn't bother buttoning it. He grabbed up his older pistol and stuffed it into the holster on his right side. I hope they have some sort of food downstairs they don't mind sharing, I really don't feel like being an ass right now. ran through his mind as he headed out of his temporary room and down the hall...but he stopped short of the stairs. There was an awful lot of noise below for just three family members, then Ed heard a floor board creak behind him and turned to see the man's wife. Well she isn't involved in the commotion, something's up! he thought as he placed a finger to his lips and motioned for her to go back into her room, the woman nodded and slowly disappeared into the room from whence she came.

Ed removed his firearm from his holster slowly and held it low in front of himself. Whatever is going on better be explained quietly and quickly, I'm not in the mood for bullshit with a hangover. Ed gritted his teeth as he made his way to the top of the stairs, he looked down and saw a glimpse of the boy's face as he moved toward the small couch on the far side of the sitting area. Ed knew that look and it proved his suspicions correct, something truly was not right. Ed knelt down to try and see what could possibly be going on but was unable to acquire any knowledge about the situation. Gonna have to do this the old fashioned way. he thought as he stood and rolled his shoulders then turned his head from side to side. He could hear the internal noises from his bones as he prepared himself for whatever he was about to come face to face with...or so he thought.

Ed moved as slowly and as quietly as he could down the top portion of the steps to close a bit of distance unnoticed before he cleared the bottom portion with two bounds, eyes scanning the room as he went, his weapon just pointed out just below his field of vision. "Follow my instructions..." he started as he locked his sights on the 'new' man in the room. "Or I'll end your pathetic fucking life right this...HOLY...BLOODY...HELL." his statement had started fiercely, then he scanned his target and the last portion was rather quiet, but loud enough to be heard. He was bewildered to say the least. Before Ed stood the one man he never wanted to see again, but not for bad reasons at all. He loved the guy, not like Colly loved Ed, but in the normal way. He never wanted to have to make decisions pertaining to this man ever again, they would be far too difficult. Ed slowly lowered his weapon to his side and took a step back, standing straight up in the process. He wanted to speak, but he just didn't have the words yet. McMillan just stood there, mouth hanging open, eyes wide to the world, an artillery round could have hit the back of the house and Ed never would have noticed.

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

OOC: So sorry this is a mega late post Bro, I honestly forgot all about this thread after everything that happened with me. Better late than never right? Sorry again.


Watching the young boy sitting at his side, Captain Brentwood gave a long smirk and swallowed the bitter taste of what he considered cowardice vermin down his gullet. The whole French race were vermin in his eyes, the ghastly buggers who let many British men and woman die; if it wasn’t for their cowardice and impure blood to fight the Nazis when the shit hit the fan, a lot of people wouldn’t have died, a lot of his friends would have perished for the pointless defending of France. Dunkirk was a shamble and Liam may only have been a junior officer, a junior Royal Commando at the time, but he was lucky to have survived the opening conflict of the war. Behind enemy lines, running from Jerry like they were the plague and suffering fatal losses, for what? Because the fucking French bastards couldn’t pull their finger out of their arseholes and squeeze a trigger at the enemy. Instead, the British Expeditionary Forces took the brunt of the battle and suffered the worse fate, fleeing like cowards from the Nazi might, simply because the petulant French bastards bent over for Jerry - scum, the lot of them!

Grinding his teeth, Liam wiped his sweating palms down his dirty white vest and recounted the last terrible twenty-four-hours he’d been through. Fleeing the Germans once again, stuck behind enemy lines, it touched a nerve and brought back a lot of tenacious memories he’d rather forget. If it was one thing for certain, he wasn’t about to give up lightly and knew if he gained a vehicle, he could make haste in getting back to the friendly wire pronto. He had some valuable intelligence too, well, good enough anyway; he knew where the Germans were pushing from and where they hoped to cut off the Allied forces. They may have cut him off, but he was one man, he could bring down the Hun easily if he made it back before nightfall. Then who’d be running? The thought brought a timid grin to his lips, a grin that lasted all but two split seconds, as noises caught his conscious from the stairwell and Liam snapped from his position like a dog, a desperate Jackal who felt he may have been cornered too much for his liking.

Snapping outwards for the young boy, he grabbed the screaming child by the arm and flaunted the boy’s limp body in front of his own. His vice like grip tightening around the boy’s limb, causing a searing pain to beckon outwards from the boy’s mouth as he cried out from the shock and pain, yelping between his blubbering lips. Reaching down during the commotion of the boy’s small resistance, he unsheathed his boot knife and jaunted the blade up against the boy’s throat, an accidental prick of the blade cutting the boy’s throat slightly during the haste, a small trickle of blood running down his white pale flesh as he yelped once again from the pain dealt and sobbed uncontrollably. Then a man, figure, monster!? Pounced from the stairwell in one full swoop and pointed a gun straight at Liam. Instinctively Liam lowered his body a little and leant behind the boy, the blade pressing tighter into the boy’s throat, Liam’s eyes forming into daggers as he held no remorse or reasoning behind the mask he wore. Pure hatred, craziness and aggression on full display; he’d cut the fucking kid if he had too.

A voice bellowed into the room, English speaking and Liam found himself jumping a heartbeat as he recognised the tone, the voice, the words spoken. Adrenaline coursed through his veins and the words bounced off his ears, he was all too ready and pumped up for a fight. Should he cut the kid? Should he pick him up and etch his way out of the room with the meat-shield? Liam was ready for whatever was thrown at him, but not this, not in a million years. His eyes adjusted to the face, his ears began to form to the known voice and his breath began to slow, but deepen. “Ed.. Edward?” he almost silently spoke, the words from his mouth sounding more like a sigh or winded exhale. It couldn’t be!? Was it!? What the fuck!? Liam’s body weakened and the blade held at the boy’s throat slackened, his eyes fixed on Edward McMillan on who stood bold and stern before him, dressed to the nines in a German uniform. What was happening? The rumours were true? Stephen was telling the truth? A ton of questions broke the walls down in his mind, this couldn’t have been a coincidence… No…

Slowly standing straight behind the boy, he let the blade slip from the youngster’s throat and his grip loosen, letting the boy run straight for his father who walked into the room at the side, holding a set of keys that were presumably to the vehicle. A single tear welled up in Liam’s left eye and he fought the emotion back, his friend, his loyal friend had betrayed him. All this time he fought for the truth, presuming he’d been taken prisoner by the Nazis, when he’d simply walked over to them. He was right in his suspicion that Edward was still alive, but completely wrong that he was only captured for intelligence, never had he thought the man would be working with the Nazis. Never. “How…” was the only word he managed to get out, before a tear dropped from his eye and Liam found himself looking for a seat, finding it hard to stand any longer.

His legs trembled from the shock and he slumped into the armchair by the fireplace, slowly shaking his head, not really caring if Edward were to shoot him right at that moment in time. As far as Liam was concerned, he already had. Wiping the tear from his eye and trying not to seem like a broken man, a man who never showed emotion - ever - he leant forwards in his seat and cradled his head for a brief moment, running his hands through his hair soon after as he attempted to come to terms with what he was witnessing. “How could you Edward?” he said, finally managing to get the words out, his eyes a soft pink as he looked towards the man who was once a brother to him, needing an answer. Needing to be put at rest. “I thought… I thought you was dead, then I thought you was captured by the Nazis” he muttered out, still trying to wrap his head around things. This was madness, utter madness.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Ed just stood there, in complete amazement at who he was once again face to face with. The chances weren't comprehensible. A shot in the dark hitting something smaller than the moon and twice as far away. But none of that changed the stinging in the back of Ed's eyes. Even Liam shed a tear, Liam of all people and his own tear on his face. Maybe this is just another nightmare?! Maybe you'll just wake up?! Ed wanted to believe that, wanted to believe it so very badly. But he knew they were idle thoughts, it didn't get anymore real than this. Ed tried to form words with his mouth, but he just ended up looking like a kid meeting Santa Claus in a store for the first time, eyes wide open, tunnel vision, head trying to turn away but his eyes were too focused, hands wanting to move from the awkward feeling but just paralyzed from the shock. Still no words came.

McMillan finally took a deep breath and exhaled shakily, he started to reach behind him, flailing his hand to find something to catch himself on. He needed to sit as he was becoming a bit light headed. Finally his fingers bounced on the handrail a couple of times before he took hold and lowered himself onto the bottom steps of the household. He pulled his hands to his face and lowered his head before running his fingers through his hair and holstering his side arm and just began looking around the room, throwing his hand out, motioning as if something were coming closer "How did you...?" he'd point at himself, point at Liam, point at the door. "Why did..." he couldn't finish a sentence to save a childhood pet. "But there is..." it just wasn't happening. There was just so many thoughts of regret and loss and sorrow to try and piece any single thought together.

His thoughts of regret were of Liam and Stephen, not leaving the 7th. His thoughts of loss were his own men he killed to make this happen, not for the Allies. His thoughts of sorrow were for the feelings he created in those that cared for him, not for the things he had done to get there. He was still fully confident in his decision, he just hated the fact of what had to be done so that he could be where he was now. It was a difficult and morally challenging decision, but Ed wanted to work toward what he believed was the greater good, ending the war. That's all that mattered to him, ending the war as quickly as possible so that the remaining innocent could remain just that, innocent.

McMillan took a few quick breaths and eventually changed them into long slow breaths to calm his nerves. He once again brought his gaze up to meet Liam's. This was the time, whether he liked it or not, this was his time of confession, it may never come again. "Liam." he started, his heart skipping a beat. "I love you like a brother, nothing will ever change that." He drew in a shallow breath quickly to catch himself from becoming too emotional before he could get out what he had to say. "Even if you grow to hate me, which I could never be able to blame you for, I will love you like family. I'm still the same guy, I care for those close to me and do what I can to make sure they are safe. I know it may not seem like it right now, but this happened with the best intentions." He meant it so much, but feared that through the course of his actions on the matter that his words may well be falling on deaf ears. "It's probably best they think I'm dead, the last thing I want is for more pain to be brought on others because of this. But this is what it is, and there is no changing that." he finished with, his tongue pushing into his lower jaw which was protruding a bit while he was breathing deeply. His eyes becoming red with the tears he was holding back. He swallowed hard as he began to rub his hands together harshly, his eyes scanning the floor, his leg bouncing up and down rapidly. Everything felt wrong, but it was the price he was willing to pay to do his part to make the world a safer place.

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

Leaning forwards in the armchair, Liam cupped his face between his dirtied palms from having crawled through foliage and leafs during his descent from the woodlands on the nearby hill, into the small village quietly. In hope to either siphon fuel for his jeep hidden back in the forest or steal a new vehicle to waltz on back to Allied lines since the Axis pushed the frontier onwards; he was stuck behind enemy lines, stuck in a village in the middle of nowhere and now he was stuck with a phantom apparition of someone he once knew, someone who was officially announced deceased, someone Liam had classed as a close friend and family member whom was dressed to the hilt in a Nazi uniform!? Things couldn’t have got worse or stranger, it seemed as if Stephen Colly - the pathetic baffling private - was actually telling the truth. Yet, he berated and threatened the boy for making such accusations on his dear friend, brother… Oh… How wrong he had been and now he felt like a fool.

Edward stuttered a little and Liam was beginning to care less by this point, did he truly want to know why Edward had abandoned all of his friends and brothers? He wasn’t quite sure, but reframed from ousting Edward’s speech as he attempted to explain himself or more to the point, prep for an apology that never came. He couldn’t even apologise for what he had done, despite the apology being a far cry from making everything perfect, Edward selfishly spoke of himself in a bid to explain why he‘d done this, or so it certainly came across to Liam as being very self centred. His best intentions? Liam’s teeth gritted in anger at the sheer thought of Edward thinking he had done, what he had done, with the best intentions and then he spoke of not telling anyone back home, not to tell them that he was alive and an acting socialist of the Nazis. Why? So his name wasn’t made creped with shame? So those whom did care for him, didn’t take it upon themselves to find him also? Liam found the favour asked, very hard to swallow and simply glared at the ‘Nazi’ across the room.

Having let Edward speak, surprisingly having held his composure, Liam looked away and shook his head in dismay. “You care for those close to you?” he quoted Edward and questioned simultaneously. “Don’t make me laugh Edward, you don’t care for anyone - but yourself” he calmly said, yet held a bitter tone as he spoke. “You didn’t care about those lads you murdered, those boys you were supposed to be father too. You didn’t care that I had to draft a letter up personally to each of their mothers and you didn’t care about anyone else, but yourself” he said with a composed manner, his teeth grinding the whole time however, he was certainly far from being happy and entirely composed, given the situation. “So don’t you - EVER - fucking dare, to tell me that you bleeding well care about anyone else than yourself!” he blurted with a more aggressive tone, a noticeable clench of his fist tightening halfway through of speaking. He was angry, clearly hurt most of all and Edward’s words, attempt at explaining himself, done no justice whatsoever to how he felt.

Loosening his clenched fist, Liam inhaled sharply through his nostrils and continued to grind his teeth quietly. Looking towards Edwards once more, he gave a small laugh under his breath and shook his head as he was about to speak again. “Don’t call me your brother… My brother’s dead” he hurtfully added, giving Edward a long stare, before he looked away and noticed a small drinks cabinet aside the fireplace. Without warning, Liam stood up and slowly walked towards the small waist height mahogany cabinet and opened the glass panelled door, snagging a bottle of whisky and two glasses from within the cabinet; turning to face Edward once more, he walked back towards the middle of the room and set the glasses down upon a table that crowned the focus point of the room and splashed a bout of whisky into each glass, the aroma of the pungent alcohol instantly engulfing the room’s interior.

Gently sliding the second glass across the table’s surface, towards Edward, Liam picked up his own glass and raised it to hold against his chest, waiting for Edward to pick up the glass of whisky slid across to him. “My brother may be dead, but I can drink with a gentleman one last time…” he calmly said, any notion of aggression having disappeared by this moment in time, but Liam - as Edward cleverly knew - was a dark horse and very collective with his emotions at the best of times, only to rear up a storm thereafter; however it seemed, Liam stood before Edward as a mutual acquaintance and maybe, just maybe, for the briefest of moments he stood there as an old friend. Slowly raising his glass, Liam had one last thing to say: “Here’s to Edward…” and with that said, he knocked back the whisky in one full swoop, leaving the eminence of a burnt throat behind, as he felt the warmth of the alcohol besiege his stomach. He could, at last, accept Edward’s death and begin to grieve for the loss. No matter how solid Edward stood before him, the man was not his brother - not anymore.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Edward looked on as he caught a glimpse of emotion in Liam’s face. Nothing noticeable, but Ed couldn’t take his eyes off the man. The muscles in his lower jaw contracted and the skin in his cheeks tighten because of it; that was about as much emotion you ever wanted to get from him, anything else got you chewed up and spat out.

Ed swallowed hard as he listened to the man he so highly respected speak. It was somewhat along the lines of what he was expecting. He hadn’t forgotten the price his men had paid to allow him this shift in uniform color. That was all Ed saw it as, a different uniform, you still had commanders and polotics mixed in with everything, the only difference was that Ed truly believed the Nazis would win the war, and all he ever wanted was to end the war, so now he fought for that reason, and that reason alone. Yet so much hatred had been tied to the uniform of the German army, things that which most men did not stand for, or possibly even understand, many of them did, McMillan understood and was strongly opposed. His lack of belief had been overlooked on a few occasions due to the glory he had brought back from battle on several occasions, but he had to keep up the pace or he feared he would be shot in the back.

He listened to Liam as he continued. He knew that Liam needed to vent, get things off his chest, and Ed didn’t really want to be shot so he was happy choosing silence for a while. It seemed that Liam whole heartedly believed that this was the end of things between them, Ed was concerned that that was the truth, you cannot continue any type of relationship with just a lone sole. Ed needed to speak up soon, he may never see his friend again.

Liam had turned away from Ed for a brief moment, McMillan felt like he was losing his chance and being set up all in the same instant, neither proved to be true. His old commander had returned with a bottle of whiskey to share in a pair of glasses. Getting fancy on me Liam? No longer drinking straight from the bottle? he thought as the amber liquid sloshed into the glasses before settling. Then came the toast…to Edward.

His breath paused for a moment before he finally spoke up. ”To me? No old man, this cannot be in my honor for there is none it what has happened. I’m no blind man, I know there are reprocussions for the things we do, I will not drink to my own name, not now. But I will drink to the end sir, the end of the war or I will not drink at all. I mean you no disrespect by it, that is if me speaking is not disrespect enough in your mind from the way you speak.” He stood still for a few more seconds to see if these would be acceptable terms before he took up the glass and looked over it for a second or two, then threw it back with a quick gulp and pinched his lips together with a slow exhale through his nose. He wanted to tell Liam of what he had done for Colly not so long ago, risking his own life to help him escape from an SS prison and even escorted him back to the British lines, but he knew it wouldn’t matter what he said, he’d have to hear it from Colly or not at all. He wanted to help Liam as well, but Liam wasn’t the easily impressionable type, and he knew his way around a hand to hand fight enough to vent upon Ed, Colly was much easier to approach. Ed wondered if he Liam saw him the same way McMillan saw Colly. Ed respected the man highly enough, he didn’t want to kiss him or anything of the sort, but Ed would just as easily put his neck on the line for Liam as he would for Colly. He hoped the situation would never arise, he hoped he would never see Liam again, but for the best reasons.

Ed took a small step back in case things got too emotional then looked Liam directly in his eyes. Then he spoke calmly, he had no intentions of being all religious, or with deep emotion or anything of the sort, but it would seem that way. Ed would always hold Liam in high regards, no matter what happened. ”No matter how you feel, no matter what happens…

”…you’ll always be my brother.”

[/right]

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

OOC: Not sure why your post is showing up loads of weird looking symbols, but I got the gist of it Bro!

IC:

Once Liam knocked back the pungent whisky, Edward spoke in abidance to the toast, but rather wishing the toast was honoured towards the ending of the war, opposed to the person Liam once knew and wished to toast towards. The toast was more of an insult towards Edward anyhow, toasting the man Liam once considered a brother, but not anymore, so the recollection of wanting to toast to the sweet end of the war was perhaps the only reasonable words that came out of Edward’s mouth in Liam’s perspective. Whatever Edward had said or had to say, he didn’t relish in the slightest, but the compliance of toasting to the end of the war, the end of all this misery, seemed rather fair enough in Liam’s eyes. He was sick of it all, sick of everything to do with the war by now, so why not raise a drink in hope? Drink in hope that someday, all this would be over and life would occur to be normal once more. Liam doubted life would ever be normal again, how could you form a pretence of being normal, when your life has never been anything but normal?

Exhaling, Liam nodded a little and reached across the table before them both. Coiling his fingers around the neck of the whisky bottle and placing his empty glass onto the table, Liam poured another shot’s worth into it and casually stepped around the table, stepping ever closer towards Edward and closing the proximity of safe distance that was lodged between them both, so he could personally pour some more liquor into Edward’s empty glass himself. The faint smell of tobacco clung to Liam’s skin and the noticeable blank, yet deep demeaning expression was spread across Liam’s face still, like it has always been. Once Liam finished pouring a douse of whisky into Edward’s glass, he stood his ground before Edward, which couldn’t have been anymore than a foot and a half between the two of them and gave Edward a long stare on eye level. Finally, the silence was to be broken.

“I can drink to that” was all Liam had to say, as he raised his glass forwards to tap against Edward’s glass and knocked back the second round without remorse. Smacking his lips afterwards, he softly placed the empty glass and whisky bottle onto the table’s surface and stepped away from Edward altogether, their time for casually being acquainted was coming to an end and both of them knew this short lived peace between them, was something they may probably never have ever again. As sad and reluctant Liam was to think otherwise, there could be no common ground between the two anymore, there could be no more friendship, no more comradeship and certainly no more brotherly love between them; Edward had died many months ago, Liam had grieved despite not believing he was truly dead and had accepted the honourable fate of his friend. What Edward now represented before Liam, was worse than any torture or fowl play Liam had ever been subject to feeling. He felt betrayed by Edward, disowned and foremost, incredibly hurt by what he had done. Forgiveness was something Liam could never give Edward now and the void that had once been ripped inside of Liam, had suddenly become filled with a burning fire and depth of rage; at least he now had closure at least.

As Liam stepped away from Edward, he spoke calmly and collected for a man who represented an unpredictable and uncertain temper. “During Roman times, gladiators would be pitched against one another with unprecedented odds against them” he started with a soft and intellectual tone of voice, as he moved towards one of the armchairs within the room and using his right leg, gave the armchair a firm push away from the centre of the room and towards the wall, continuing he spoke once more. “These gladiators would fight both man and beast” but he cut short, turning to outstretch his right leg once again and pushing back one side of a two-seater sofa in the room, moving to the opposite side to push back with his leg also, so it moved towards the rear wall behind it. “The gladiators would fight for their freedom or simply fight to survive another day” he followed up, turning to face Edward and move towards the table in the middle of the room, the last real piece of furniture left littering the middle of the room. “Usually, only one gladiator got to walk away from the fight” and whilst he spoke, Liam began to move the table towards the wall with a full hardy push from his leg once again, finally standing still afterwards and looking to Edward properly.

Unsheathing his boot knife from a concealed strap, Liam launched it down into the wooden floorboards beneath himself tip first and gave a faint glance to the boot knife now protruding from the floor upright, dug into in the wood snugly. Looking to Edward, he smiled a little and showed a vague resemblance of emotion for the briefest time, it pained him to say what he had to say next, he was reluctant in his heart to do so, but it was the honourable way and the only way one of them was about to leave the room. “It’s time for us to settle this honourably, man to man, brother to brother” slowly, Liam’s hand raised between their bodies for a handshake. It seemed uncanny to be feeling so calm and mindful to the actions he was performing, whilst such deepened rage boiled through his veins over what Edward had done. Yet, least Liam felt he could do, was give Edward the benefit of a fair and respectful fight; should it have been anyone else before Liam, they would have been seen no more than petty scoundrels to the slaughter and he would have played dirty, before a warning was given.

Waiting for the mutual respective handshake, Liam watched Edward keenly and glanced to the holstered pistol he had. Despite Edward being armed, he still challenged him unarmed and fairly. They were fighting on different sides of the wire now and forgetting the personal vendetta brewed into the mix between the two, they were now enemies during this war and any personal injection put between their differences, only fuelled their strength or weaknesses for the fight to be. The time had come, they were about to end this now, as men… As brothers…

OOC: I hate it when Microsoft Word uses the ENGLISH Dictionary for spelling and then FireFox uses the AMERICAN Dictionary for spelling, makes me begin to wonder what's spelled correct and not. So if anything looks incorrect, it's just the English account for the words; felt like I had say that, because it's off putting seeing all the red underscored lines words in my post.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

Edward looked on as Liam made his way around the small table between them, his heart climbed into his throat and his hand holding the glass trembled ever so slightly. Liam just stood there, no expression, it was nerve racking You gonna kill me? Hug me? Get on with it! Was all McMillan could hear in his head. Instead Liam poured him another shot and knocked one back himself. Seems he found the terms offered agreeable enough. They toasted in an overly classy fashion, tapping their glasses together, but Ed waited until Liam had his glass raised before he did so himself. It burned a bit on the way down but Ed kept himself from showing it.

Liam moved back around the table. Man, I'm getting jumpy! he thought as he froze for a brief moment in case Liam went off the deep end on him. Little did he know he wasn't so far from the truth. Liam began to talk about the Roam gladiators, a subject that Edward knew little about but had an understanding of the concept, and that's when the room began to get rearranged. You have got tot be kidding me. But this gesture loosened Ed up a bit, no longer wondering what was going to happen between them before lunch, it was becoming ever so clear. This was going to end the way men were meant to settle things, one on one, but Ed couldn't seem to get his mind right. All he could think about was Liam and how much he still cared for the man, now he was going to be thrust into violence against him. He would have tried to reason but the way Liam was going on and on about the Gladiators and moving everything out of the way, his mind was made up and knowing Liam the way Ed did, plus the rumors he had heard, trying to change his mind would be fruitless.

Ed took yet another step back while Liam finished his history lesson and decorating. Then the man drew his blade SERIOUSLY!?! This was it, the day of reckoning, it had come so swiftly and Ed was not through with what he needed to do.

THUD!

The knife hit the ground without even the smallest of a wobble or shake. Liam meant business but it wasn't going to be quick. A hand was offered up to Edward as what seemed to be a parting between the two for good. At least he called me brother. Ed stood mystified for a moment before taking a deep breath and nodded softly. With Liam's hand still waiting for an equally formal gesture Ed removed his blade as well, slinging it over his shoulder and bouncing off the cabinets to the floor, he wasn't trying to be as good looking as Liam in his presentation, but he did want to convey that he wanted clean fight as well. He slowly removed his handgun and brought it to bear toward Liam, it would have been so simple and done with, but Liam could have done the same, he ejected the magazine and kicked it away before racking the slide and ejecting the round in the chamber. He tossed his .45 onto the sofa before straightening his shoulders and reaching out the shake the man's hand. "I'm guessing it's too late to try and avoid this?" There was very little tone behind Ed's words. Although Liam was indeed the better leader of the pair, Ed did not believe Liam was skilled enough for a one on one fight. But as with anything, if you inject emotions into something, the odds go out the window.

Before letting go Ed replied "What is freedom, soldiers know nothing of it. And I'd prefer we both walked away from this one if you don't mind" Edward let his grasp of Liam's hand slacken and he pulled it away. He slightly bent his knees but not so much as to make a motion, just enough that if this rodeo kicked off in the next instant, he would be able to lower himself and prepare for the worst. Ed was in a mind set of only defense, he did not want to hurt Liam if it could be helped, but he also wanted to see the sun rise the next day.

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

Having spoken what was needed and having made his peace with the situation they had been pitched into, Liam simply awaited Edward to shake his hand or spit in it; he wasn't entirely expecting the man to give up his weaponry or even oblige to the concurable method of having a single handed wager of their own to settle this matter, but Liam had made his proposal and expected Edward to do one of two things with it. Agree or disagree. There was no in-between solution to their ordeal, they couldn't agree to disagree on this occasion, not no more and Liam had grown tired of the endeavours he had been put through over the recent times, only to be brought up to this single point in which both of them now stood toe to toe. It was ironic, it was unearthly and it was a miracle by all standards. It was the time of reckoning and Liam would be damned to let this one slide away so easily.

Liam watched calmly from his position whilst Edward casually unsheathed a hidden blade alike his own, only to discard the concealed blade recklessly over his shoulder. He then un-holstered his memorable Colt .45 side-arm and brought the barrel of the weapon down slowly to bare upon Liam for the smallest of moments in time. A small grin surpassed the Captain's lips as he glared at the black abyss of the barrel's spout wandering somewhat aimlessly across his torso from Edward's standpoint of view, before the magazine of the pistol was ejected and before it had time to clutter against the hard wooden floor beneath both of their feet, Edward swiftly made motion with ejecting the chambered bullet as soon as the magazine was released and within that instance, the weapon was powerless and unworthily thrown aside by Edward who tossed it onto the nearby sofa in the room.

Now, they were even and Liam's hand embraced the grip of Edward's as he outstretched to shake his hand vigorously for the last time. Liam never counted on there being another time they would ever be stood before one another with the same mutual respect ever again, as far as Captain Liam J. Brentwood was concerned, one of them was about to make history and the other was about to be pushing up daisies from six-foot-under by the night's end; contrary to Liam's belief, Edward did attempt to reason with him during their momentary respectful handshake however. “There was no chance to avoid this...” he responded to Edward, breaking the faintest of reluctant smiles that crept to the surface and as if fighting the emotion back, Liam snagged his hand front out of Edward's instantly. It was clear that he was hurting deep down inside, but Liam had always been an awkward kettle of fish to contend with; aggressive anger issues, post-dramatic-stress from his time as a Royal Marine Commando in Dunkirk, fuelled hatred towards the British aristocracy or anyone founding a resemblance of authority because of what happened to him being framed for the unjust murders of a botched mission back in the day when he was a serving Lieutenant. Liam, was for all reasonable purpose, a complicated barrel of laughs and it didn't help that his upbringing had been incredibly tough also.

As Edward spoke once more of wishing to walk away, Liam could only shake his head slightly and look towards Edward with a saddened distaste for their situation and predicament. “I'm sorry, this is the only way” he softly murmured, before taking a step back and rolling his shoulders some. They were at a stand-off already, yet neither of them wished to make the first move. Despite everything, Liam did love Edward deep down inside and this pained him worse than ever to find out his brother in arms had been alive all this long, that Edward had indeed survived the day his squad of dead soldiers had been found alongside the remnants of the tank, but was indeed now a serving Nazi whom murdered his brethren in cold blood. Liam despised the Nazis with everything he had, they were scum, lower than any scoundrel on Earth and now Edward, to whom he considered higher than most, put himself amongst the ranks of the rotten and Liam simply felt as though he couldn't serve justice to the Nazi scum no more.

Liam was questioning his faith in this war; could he kill the Nazis he considered the absolute scum of the Earth, if it involved murdering his own brother in arms? His comrade? His loyal friend? A faint nerve snapped in Liam's brow and he twitched a little as his brain warped around the situation he was proposed with. Edward was all too willing to walk away from this incident, yet something in Liam's aura and soul forebode him from allowing Edward to do such a thing. He was the enemy, he was the scum, he was what Liam hunted now. Whatever happened, it had to end this way and despite Liam's reluctance, it was as though it was the only way. Going against the grain would only toil with Liam's true faith; he was a warrior of justice, a Jackal and they stood for direct justice against those imbeciles who deserved everything they had coming – no, Edward was no different to them now, Liam just had to accept it and carry on. Right?

Grinding his teeth, Liam snapped out of the deep abyss of thought and back into himself. This was happening. Liam was a Jackal and nothing else, he believed in true justice and fair deserves against those who wronged both himself and his padres. Edward had wronged, Edward was a fucking Nazi and Edward had betrayed him; those were the thoughts he now drummed into his heart, mind and soul. The fuel for his vengeance. The fuel for his belly full of fire to do what needed to be done.

Using his one track mind as a Jackal, Liam snarled angrily and noticed Edward's slight lower stance to avoid any physical intrusion coming his way, but Liam thought one step better and aggressively hurled his entire body towards Edward. Outstretching his arms to grapple onto Edward's clothing, he dug his fingers in deep to whatever they sought and he pushed his entire weight hard into Edward's physical embodiment. His legs tensed and pushed against the ground, giving heed to his hardened push he made directly into Edward. By doing so, he hoped to knock Edward from off his feet and hopefully use his bodyweight as leverage to gaining the upper-hand to what ensue to be a struggle; already, Liam's hands searched for Edward's throat or eyes as he felt his body come into contact with Edward. He needed to handicap Edward in some fashion or knock him down so he could splatter his brains out with his fists. Whatever happened, Liam wasn't going to back down...

OOC: Sorry if my post is long or confusing. If you need details on what Liam's actions are, just ask Bro and I'll explain better.

[Edward"Butcher"McMillan]

All of a sudden a feeling of warmth cascaded down Edward's body when Liam pulled his hand away. Was it fear, or terror? Was it love? Could it have been regret? Ed couldn't place his finger on it, he wanted to but Liam's responses spoke only to Ed's instincts, survive. Somehow fate had brought them to this day, this house, this meeting. Ed himself was not a believer of fate, but some people didn't believe in bullets either, doesn't change the fact that they will rip straight through you.

They stood face to face for what seemed like where you went after eternity, Liam appeared to be having a conversation with himself in his own mind, maybe he had second thoughts, maybe he was lost. Of all the things Edward was contemplating on what was going through his old commander's head, he never thought to make the first move. It never crossed his mind and he would have hated himself if it had.

At the same time Liam seemed to come back to the moment, he was off like a shot. Before Edward could react Liam was in the process of plowing straight through him. His eyes widened as he started to feel like the fine china trying to restrain the bull. His weight shifted from forward to back, and where Liam's belt had been in his gaze was starting to drift toward the ceiling. Ed felt a muffled pinch as a large patch of his own flesh was latched onto and Liam's other hand was coming in as well. Maybe that's what it took for Ed to realize that this rodeo had finally kicked off and Ed was slow getting out of the gate. He never would have dreamed Liam would be causing him feelings of pain or fear, but here he was about to fall on his ass from just such things.

Ed barely got a foot back after having snapped out of it to keep himself from being pinned to the floor, but a door frame wasn't much better. The corner dug itself into McMillan's back right next to his spine. His now forward foot had slid all the way into the wall itself and then Liam's second hand finally came in searching for something to break or maim. Ed had somehow managed to keep his breath from being ejected form his lungs from the impact and tried to think of something that could maybe send Liam back into whatever dark place he had just come from. "Never told me you had a REAL BROTHER!" It's true, Ed had to join the Nazis to find out about Tyler Brentwood. Maybe it could distract his best friend long enough while Ed reached under Liam's arm that had grabbed him so firmly. He reached under the arm and brought his own hand back up into his torso, if he could straighten the man's elbow he could try and loosen his grasp a bit, if not he could at least try and hold it in place from going after something more important. Liam was in this for blood, but Ed still couldn't bring himself to make an offensive action. He turned his face away from Liam's other hand, it still came looking for his face. Ed tried to keep his neck moving so Liam couldn't grab anything, but his brother was either back from the distraction or had never been there in the first place. Liam's ring and pinky fingers snagged inside of Edward's mouth and pulled at his cheek with great force. Sorry I said anything! Ed thought as he clinched his eyes from the bit of pain. It's not that it would have brought him to his knees, but it wasn't calloused like the majority of a veteran's body, no matter how many horribly cold meals you ate.

Ed could feel the tender skin in his mouth start to tear from Liam's finger nails and all Ed could do was turn his head with the direction it was being pulled. Finally Ed was able to work his free hand up to Liam's and he tried grabbing the man's wrist, he didn't want to yank the man's fingers out, that would only cause more damage, but if he could put pressure between the bones in his forearm it might be enough on the pressure point to dissuade him from continuing with the action.

While all of this was happening Ed was attempting to get a foot behind himself past the doorway so he would have something to push off of, after kicking the trash can wildly he was able to get a grip but it may just serve him well if he needed to flex his foot upward to catch the door frame he was currently on if Liam abandoned the pushing and went for pulling.

[♔ Liam J. Brentwood]

Ploughing into what felt like a brick wall, Liam’s legs bellowed at the joints and his leg muscles tensed uncontrollably to gain what was left of his balance and posture to be able to push forwards, whilst his hands fought desperately to grab anything upon Edward’s face at the same time. Liam’s hands searched for Edward’s eyes, his fingers pushing against whatever soft surface they sprawled across, hoping to blind him and his feet pressed into the floor beneath himself, lurching his torso harder into Edward’s body as he struggled against the muscular physic of the veteran soldier he was now toe to toe with. Someone he once considered his right-hand-man, someone he once considered his brother and someone he once considered his family; most of all, this was someone Liam had fought beside and they’d both shared their experiences and tactics, he had to be unpredictable against Edward in order to keep the upper hand. Edward knew him all too well and Liam knew Edward all too well.

Edward spurted out something during the commotion and Liam growled angrily at the remark, his eyes astern with fury and his nostrils flared in anger. Liam stared Edward in the face as he pressed into him, trying with as much effort as he could to press his fingers into Edward’s face, wanting to rip the man’s eyes out or claw the flesh from whatever he could grab. Leaning in close as he fought desperately to smother, maim or claw Edward’s face with his hands, he spoke under tense frustration directly into Edward’s face as he leant in close. “You never told me you was a Nazi whore!” he spurted out angrily, welling up a mouthful of spit inside of his mouth to spit into Edward’s face, when he suddenly found his fingers inside of Edward’s mouth and struggled to dig his fingers inside of Edward’s inner-cheek, roping his head forward a little like a hooked fish on a line.

As Liam dug his fingers into Edward’s inner cheek, he felt his forearm being grabbed and all too easily, Edward prided his hand from out of his mouth, causing Liam to grimace in slight pain as Edward applied pressure to the nerve in his forearm. Struggling against Edward’s brute strength momentarily, Liam snagged his forearm from out of Edward’s grip and attempted to pull away, but was easily roped back in by Edward holding his opposite arm tightly against his chest. “You fucking…” Liam blurted out in frustration of being trapped, realising his arm had been locked in by Edward, but Liam knew that wasn’t going to last long - no matter how strong Edward was, Liam was conniving and daring.

Having welled up saliva inside of his mouth prior, but hadn’t spat, Liam regurgitated phlegm from his throat as well this time and spat into Edward’s face, hoping to buy enough time for him to twist his held arm inwards, so Edward’s elbow protruded outwards and yank his constricted arm free from Edward’s grasp. Liam felt his skin burn as he attempted to twist his arm free from Edward’s vice-like-grip and pulled from Edward’s grip as hard as he could. Realising he wasn’t about to go very far, Liam changed tactics as quick as he’d tried twisting his arm free and instead this time, grabbed Edward’s constricting arm with both of his hands (including the constricted hand/arm as best he could) and with a moving circular movement outwards, attempted to pull Edward into the kitchen with him as he moved sideways through the doorway, hoping it pulled him off balance and staggering backwards.

As Liam attempted to ‘break free’ by dragging Edward with him into the next room (kitchen), he snarled in aggression and used as much effort he could muster to leverage the momentum of this daring move, by throwing Edward off balance and off against anything littering inside of the room for bonus damage. Liam wasn’t as strong as Edward, but Liam wasn’t dumb neither and knew if he used his mind over matter, he’d be able to succeed with some success by being dumb enough to take a monstrous veteran like Edward on through hand to hand combat. Perhaps he was dumb after-all?

OOC: Sorry if this is confusing, may seem it. Let me know if you need pointers on what’s happening.

[PuNk! ™]

*Hint Hint*
~Danny