Chapter 3

Day 1,355, 13:43 • Published in United Kingdom United Kingdom • by Henry Hank Moody

I may have ended up drinking too much during the writing of this so hope it makes sense 😛 lol

hope you enjoy it



The walls shook as the assaulting force of 1st armoured warriors began their invasion of Paris. Lieutenant Brayford and Private Hank Moody re-joined Woolfie and Octavian by the Cafés door. Octavian’s eyes were wide as an explosion not far away sent a trickle of dust sprinkling from the ceiling.

“The Poles will be scampering around like s**t out there so I want your eyes peeled and if you see someone coming at us put them down.” Ordered Brayford. “Ok Wolf lead us out.”

Woolfie pushed open the door slowly, his rifle held in front and his finger hugging the trigger tentatively. “All cle…”

The bullet flew from nowhere and ripped through Woolfie’s skull with a soft, wet pop. The soldier slumped over pushing the door open into the enemy infested night. His head was gone, vanishing in a violent fountain of blood and brains. Octavian emptied his dinner into the rapidly expanding puddle of blood and Moody quickly followed suit.

Only Brayford held his dinner down. As soon as the bullet had sounded he had knelt beneath the Café’s window and was scanning the dark Paris rooftops searching fervently for any hint of the assailant.

“What the f**k do we do now sir?” asked Moody just as another bout of retching overcame his training.

Without replying to his vomiting soldier the Lieutenant hunkered below the window and flicked on the comms to Dakota.

“Dakota this is Brayford we are currently under attack from an unknown assailant and need immediate assistance. How far are you from our position?”
“Damn it Brayford how many times do I have to save your ass?” laughed Dakota, in the background Brayford could hear the rumbling engine of the tank he knew was already on its way to his stricken team. “Hold tight we will be with you in about 5 minutes…”

“ I don’t think that will be soon enough,” whispered Lieutenant Brayford. He let the walkie talkie fall to the floor and he raised his weapon the second floor window opposite his position. Moody, Octavian fire your f***king weapons”, he roared as the Polish soldiers opened fire.

Bullets ripped into the Café, glass shattered and splinters of wood and stone flew through the air. The three men of the 1st armoured returned fire but soon the hail of Polish bullets became a never ending fire and the brave men of 1st armoured could do nothing but huddle on the ground.

Hearing a whoosh Brayford knew what was coming and in his last breath roared; “RPG get down!”