FSE

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Author's note: This is my first submission to SoFurry, because I only write stories, and only for contests. If you want commission work done, PM me and depending on the details, it can be done, although sometimes I am just too busy. I realize that some of the wartime details may be sketchy, but I get most of my terminology from videogames so please don't bash me too hard. :) Any comments are appreciated. 5000 words. Keep an eye out for "Wartimes are Hardtimes Revised: Longer, Harder"!

Author's note again: Sorry it took me so long. Been very busy. I haven't taken german since high-school so forgive me if the grammar or verb conjugation is a bit off. 10603 words; enjoy.

SetInStone

"Wartimes are Hardtimes"

LONGER, HARDER

France, 1944

Jacob awoke to the sound of the 4 a.m. trumpet call, and the smell of thick smoke on the air. The bombs still shattered in the distance; he had no idea how he could have slept so long through all the noise, although in the occupation of a soldier, one grows resistant to the scream of a mortar and the cry of a gun. He quickly slipped into that American-Green jumpsuit and plopped his helmet down onto his head. Holstering his pistol, he remembered the pack of German cigarettes in his other pants, the ones that were still muddy from his 8-Midnight shift in the trenches.

He looked over to the only mirror in the squad tent, crowded by his mates. Slipping on his glasses, his yellow eyes came into focus, and he remembered that he was the only Giant Panda he had seen since enlisting. He fished the cigarettes out and lit one with his matches, before concealing the rest in his pocket. Before long, everyone in his squad was in his face to bum a drag off him.

"Sorry guys, last one." He turned away the canine and the marsupial. Jacob finally reached for his Thompson and headed out to the line-up.

Shoulders back. Chest out. He was always first on the line in the morning. He may have been a little more heavy-set than the average soldier around here, but he could still take on every German he met in hand-to-hand, as long as he could close the distance. The trumpeter lowered his instrument and returned to the command tent, leaving Jacob standing there with one hand in salute, the other holding his gun, and the cigarette still in his mouth. Across from him, the squad leader tipped his hat and walked towards him, stretched out an arm and took the cigarette from him. Dion the tiger took a few drags and returned it to Jacob before the rest of the squad rushed out to join the line.

"Gentlemen," Dion spoke, "today we're going down the road to Fox Trot and rallying with the French to take down Hill 25 and the Jerry bunkers all over it. We need to make way for the convoy going through and setting up for our side. That hill has mortar positions zeroed on the town below, and were going right through it to get to the base, so buckle up and save every last bullet. Move out."

Jacob moved to jump into the jeep with the others, but Dion stopped him.

"Hold on, Jacob. Command wants you to be a radio op for the Polish rolling thunder today."

"What the hell? Dion? You're going to need every man you can get out there. The Pol haven't been touched for a week, what's going to happen?" Jacob lashed.

"I don't like it any more than you do, okay Jacob? But the other allies are making sure the convoy doesn't get flanked and we need to be in constant communications." He removed his hat and ran two fingers down the part in his hair. "There's nothing either of us can do about it so get your ass moving." He coldly turned away and began walking with the rest.

"Dion..."

He stopped.

"Please... be careful."

"Always am." Dion said as he replaced his hat and continued down the road.

* * *

Jacob and Dion had met just after D-Day. Jacob and his squad got mixed in with the Canadians on Juno, and it was Dion's job to go and get him. After that, Dion and Jacob were put together in a tank patrol, so they knew their way around a Sherman. For this reason, Jacob felt no need to listen to a word his drivers were saying during the rundown.

"Panda. American Panda, look ovar 'ere. See tis light? Rouge means get out!" The adolescent lion relayed to him with a thumb pointing up to the top hatch. The kid hardly had a mane; almost begged Jacob to ask if he forged his identification, or if the Polish put children in tanks all the time.

"I already told you, this is an American machine. I've driven one before." Jacob yelled over the constant shuddering of the engine and all the moving parts. "Your military probably loaned it from ours so don't feel proud or anything." The skinny driver only shook his head and replied,

"If something happens, pay attention!"

Jacob turned towards the gunman, and displayed a look as if to say 'You work with this every day?'

The Doberman smiled back and continued cleaning out the inner barrels. Jacob returned to reliving the patrol they had in the beginning, a highway perfectly straight for miles on end. You could put the tank into drive and sit back, enjoy the scenery. In fact, if you didn't have a deck of cards there wasn't much to do at all.

Their tank ground to a stop. "Hey Jacob?"

"What's up Dion?"

"I'm letting her cool off for a minute. I thought we could talk." Dion spun around in his chair to face Jacob in the center of the vehicle.

Jacob looked up and refitted his glasses. "Uh, okay."

"Are you gay?" Dion asked without any hint of sarcasm in his voice. Jacob could do nothing but stare back at him, eyebrows high, which was answer enough for the tiger. He chuckled, "I can always tell, doesn't matter how good you are at hiding it. It's like a sixth sense. I don't know if it's because I am or what."

Jacob uncrossed his legs and sat stern on the mount-up for exiting the hatch. Dion rose from his chair and hunched his way over. Jacob opened his mouth to speak, although he had no idea what to say, and before he could think of anything, Dion was sitting in his lap.

"Don't say anything, just go with it." He placed one striped finger over the panda's lips, and leaned in to kiss him. Immediately his penis shot out, and pressed through four layers of fabric into Dion's rump. Without ever leaving that kiss, Dion unfastened both their army-green slacks, and pulled his down enough to reveal his own arousal. He then retreated and dropped to the floor, with his face inches away from the bulge in Jacob's pants, slid his claws up to the belt loops, and pulled them down towards him. Jacob already felt as though his cock was about to explode, but could do nothing but watch as Dion's tongue left a trail of saliva all the way up his leg to his boxer-briefs, and as his maw enveloped the peak jutting out from the white fabric. The cloth all around his head was soon warm and wet, and Dion expertly worked his tongue through the factory hole in the front, and took Jacob's dick into his mouth.

"Oh, Dion..."

The tiger wasted no time, and quickly began bobbing up and down over the ripe fruit, taking it as deep as he could, lapping at Jacob's black testicles each time he reached the bottom. Jacob began to make the slightest movements, humping in time to Dion's motions, struggling for every last millimetre. His head craned back and he removed his shirt, wanting to be rid of every scrap of clothing. He leaned back, allowing greater access to his loins and Dion took it, putting the entire panda cock into his throat, and whipping the sack beneath with his raspy tongue.

"Ah, Dion, I'm gonna..."

He took the cue, but he was in no way ready to leave. Sliding up and wrapping his lips around the tip, and using his hand to pump the shaft, he brought Jacob to his climax. Dion suckled the knob harder as he tasted streams of hot cum fill his mouth, and Jacob collapsed onto the warm steel, moaning and panting in the wake of the immense orgasm.

After a few seconds passed, Dion slowly removed his lips from the head, and crouched along the narrow passageways of the tank to the driver's seat. His standard issue boxer-briefs were now moist with sweat, sticking and peeling on the fake leather swivel chair. He forced two levers up and gauged a speedometer to a steady pace.

"It should be cooled off by now." He nearly yelled over the rumbling engine. Jacob was still catching his breath on the mount-up, laying flat on his back with his legs hanging over the edge. He could feel the pre begin to leak from his urethra, and was still dumbfounded that this was even happening. He looked up to Dion, who was unbuttoning his shirt in the chair at the front of the vehicle. Jacob took notice of how immaculate his body was, and through his boxers, he could easily see how much bigger he was. He could never have hoped to land someone so gorgeous and endowed, or so he thought as he rested his head back and closed his eyes.

The vibrations of the Sherman almost put Jacob to sleep, until he could feel a furry figure climbing on top of him. A raging tiger erection jabbed him in the gut, and the cotton on Dion's backside soaked up whatever juices remained. Jacob opened his eyes to meet the whiskered one face to face.

"Are you all done?" Dion sadly wondered. "Guess I don't get a turn, huh?"

Jacob's only reply to that was a forceful hand on the back of his head, to bring him down for another kiss. He could taste his own cum on the tiger's thin tongue, and his cock soon regained its readiness. Jacob raised his legs and exposed his ass to Dion, who was becoming visibly hornier by the second. The two pairs of military briefs flew through the air and landed in some obscure corner of the tank space. Jacob closed his eyes again, waiting for what was about to happen. He felt the warm tip hit just below his balls, dribbling some pre, and then lightly prod at his hole.

"Ah." A gasp escaped Jacob's throat, and instinctively he held his anus tightly shut.

"You're so tense, Jacob. You'll have a much better time if you just relax." Dion explained. "Here, let me help." With one finger Dion rubbed the panda's hard tip, and with the other he squeezed along the length of his shaft, oozing a generous amount of pre onto Jacob's waiting tailhole. The stimulation allowed Jacob to release the pressure, and Dion was able to part the pucker with the first inch of his cock.

"Mmh-ah."

Immediately there was more than enough pleasure to keep them both loose and easy, and with each slow thrust Dion worked more of his shaft into the widening hole. Dion placed his hands under Jacob's knees, pushing his legs apart, and Jacob kept his eyes closed for most of the process, revelling in the feeling of the tiger grazing his prostate each time.

The constant vibrations of the driving tank didn't exactly cool things down, either. It was like having sex on a washing machine with spin-cycle. Or a vibrator hooked up to a car battery.

The tiger kept an easy, steady pace, taking it slow for their first time together, and eventually he pushed half his eight-inch penis into the still relatively tight rump of the panda. With every heave, Dion pressed more of his rock hard flesh into his crack, and was frankly amazed that Jacob wasn't begging him to stop by now. Everyone he had been with before couldn't even take half of him, but this Giant Panda from California was bordering on 6 inches!

"Oh G- Dion! Tie me!"

"What?"

Jacob opened his eyes and looked up to Dion, panting and humping in time with him.

"I'm not a canine. I don't have a knot."

"A-Ah! Just give me everything, dammit!" Jacob screamed as he arched his back, pulled his legs even farther apart and continued to spasm his hips in time with Dion. It was apparent that the panda would not take no for an answer, never-mind that the tiger was in no position to argue. With Jacob holding his legs out of the way, Dion leaned forward over him to gain the leverage he needed. Jacob heaved and screamed as the last inches penetrated him, and as the head of the shaft rammed into his prostate relentlessly. Dion's hips bucked as fast as he could make them, slamming his cock balls deep into Jacob with each motion.

"Uah, Ugh." He moaned and grunted as he felt his balls tighten in pleasure.

"Oh, AH! More! Please, Dion! Ah!" Jacob shuddered with elation. Dion was further amazed with the hunger that the panda displayed, as though nothing could satisfy him.

"I- Jacob, I can't. I have to pull out!"

"Don't you dare!" shouted Jacob, grabbing hold of his arms and pulling him in close, smothering him in a tongue kiss.

"I'm gonna cum!" Dion muffled through it. His mouth said no, but his dick said yes, barrelling into the cavity as far as he could reach, pounding the rock hard prostate with a torrent of sensation. Finally Jacob could take no more, and roared in climax. The tip of his penis released shoots of cum into the narrow space between them, and Dion rubbed it into their fur with his continued humping.

"Ah, oh J- ha." The tiger panted and moaned over his own orgasm, and spurted his warm load deep into Jacob's slippery tailhole, before collapsing over his new lover. Moments passed, they breathed heavily.

"Hah, ah, oh Jacob. No one has ever taken me like that before!"

"Ha, ha! You can pull out now." Jacob grinned.

"Ha, ha, ha."

"What's a joke, Panda?"

Jacob snapped out of his daydream to acknowledge the tank driver.

"Sorry?" He hadn't realized he was laughing out loud.

"What's a funny? You know, aha ha?" The polish lion asked.

"Uh..." Jacob didn't know what to tell him. Then he noticed the sleeping gunman. "Heh, heh. You got a plastic bag?" The lion reached into the recesses of the tank's underbelly and retrieved a lunchbag for Jacob, who filled it with air and sealed it accordingly. He then reached out with it in one hand, out in front of the Dobie's muzzle, and squeezed it to burst.

"Ha ha ha! That's a joke, now!" The driver chortled with glee at the dog's expense. The Doberman didn't look very happy at all, but things weren't about to get any better. The cab of the tank was rocked by explosion, and came grinding to a halt.

"Panzerschreck!" The driver yelled, but another round rocketed into the front deflector, and shrapnel rained in on him.

"Mayday, mayday." Jacob shouted into the speaker wired to his radio rig. "23 miles north-northeast of checkpoint Charlie and we are under attack. Repeat. Panzers ambush 23 miles north-northeast of Charlie."

"Pozar!" yelled the gunman, having loaded a round into the chamber. Jacob pushed the young lion's riddled corpse from the drivers chair and sat down in it. The sights were already lined up with the enemy position, so he pulled the engagement lock and pressed the fire button.

"Load!"

A few seconds of silence passed, and then the tearing sound of the RPG cut through the air. "Brace for impact!"

The body of the tank shook again, and fell still. "Pozar!"

Close the lock. Fire.

"Definitely got one that time, but we can't take much more of this!" His eyes peered out the slot in the steel, and grazed the horizon. He couldn't see any more Panzers, but a different type of fire erupted from the dug-in nest.

"Pozar!" yelled the Dobie.

"No time, we're getting out!" Jacob grabbed the canine's collar and jerked him up to the top-hatch. Luckily, he got the picture, and released the latch. Jacob followed him out, and his feet landed on the dusty road running. The polack puppy cowered in the ditch-side, but Jacob knew it wouldn't be far enough.

The sharp whistle of incoming mortar fire cut into his ears, and Jacob's feet were wet. But if there was water, that must mean there was a culvert, a drainage of some sort. Otherwise the road would be washed out. Then he spotted it; about 50 feet up the road, a stream flowed out of the very hillside, pouring from a tube of steel.

"Come on!" he grabbed the shirt again and pulled the soldier along with him. They crawled into the dark, debris-filled cavern just as the bombs came down on their tank, rupturing the gas reservoir into a six-story ball of flame.

"Dion... I wonder how your day is going."

Jacob's stalky feet soaked in the murky water, flowing down an incline. The light at the end grew brighter as they approached, and the Polish armament followed his every step. The closer they got, the more networks of tunnels they uncovered, splitting off in all directions, but they stayed on course. They would have to find an open area for radio reception. They were about ten feet away from the fresh air, when a shadow blocked the exit. They froze.

Only a silhouette was visible, but Jacob soon breathed in relief as he heard the german officer's zipper fall, and as he released a stream of urine down the pipe. It was getting on his feet, but he couldn't move without fear of rousing suspicion.

"Glauben Sie, wir haben sie alle?" spoke the shadow.

"Ja." Another voice, faintly.

"Guten. Dich haben ein drugge rauchen?"

The tricking stream ceased, and the nazi returned his fly to an upright position, walking away. Jacob crept towards the hole, and peeked out. The air was stagnant in the pipe, and he was refreshed to poke his head out, but he remained attentive, surveying the situation. There were two hostiles visible, near a mortar placement. There wasn't much cover, a few barrels here, crates there, but there were almost certainly more men up above the dug-out, patrolling for survivors. He would have to go for it.

He turned to his polish accomplice. "Can you handle one of these?" he asked, handing him the Thompson.

"Co my tu robimy?" whispered the dobie, taking it from him. Jacob didn't know any polish, but that better have been 'Ah, my favourite weapon!'

Jacob unclipped his Colt and tip-toed out to view the circumstances again. In the squad, he wasn't as good as some with a rifle, but with a sidearm he couldn't be beat. The two germans were still sitting by the mortar, enjoying their sunny afternoon. Jacob decided that a properly cooked grenade was the best answer to the situation, and unfastened one from his suit. Pulling the pin and releasing the safety lever, he counted to three in his head, and lobbed it over to the area where the enemies sat.

There was just enough time for one of them to yell "Schnell!" before the frag shrapnel cut them off. The panda waited a moment, and heard nothing, so he jumped out and poked his head above the top of the dugout. Sure enough, a troupe of six nazi soldiers were inspecting the smouldering tank body, and miraculously, they hadn't heard the grenade explosion, or dismissed it as part of the ever present background noise of a battlefield.

"Heh, heh, heh." Jacob chuckled. 'Too easy.' He silently smirked.

He waltzed over to the mortar and, once again, the sights were already lined up with the enemy position. As hellfire rained down on the unsuspecting Jerry, Jacob's radio fuzzed into existence.

"BZT! - Private Bale, come in. What's your status? Do you read? -BZT!"

"Tango down, commander. Come pick us up. Over."

"BZT! - Copy that."

* * *

"Feline eyes are the best in the business son. You could do great things for your country."

Dion remembered the day he enlisted, the convincing undertones of the recruiting officer. He remembered his words as he peered down the iron sights of his Springfield, as the trigger released the firing pin, fired the bullet, and killed every german he ever saw at the tip of his gun. He remembered the smell of blood on the grass, the sound of a lead projectile piercing the steel of a helmet. Dion remembered many things, most he could care to forget. He and his squad had taken the town below, and the battalion moved in behind him to secure it. Now came the hill. Lined with bunkers and embattlements, Dion was ready to infiltrate and systematically destroy them all.

"Get a satchel charge on that door. Hurry it up!" He yelled. "Take positions and wait for my signal."

His round of men surrounded the armoured entrance from all angles. A few worked on the door while the others watched, and Dion surveyed the horizon. The smoke on the air reeked of black powder and raw gasoline, no wind. The town below glowed with a bathe of fire, and the hill crouched over them as a gloomy shadow. As Sergeant, it was his job to keep the men in line, keep them alive, and finish the job.

"Ready, sir." Called the Boxer.

"Alright, clear and blow it."

The concussion blasted the door open, but it stayed on its hinges, swinging about deformed and blackened. Smoke and dust billowed about in an ominous fashion.

"Get in there and clear it out!" He ordered. The men filed in according to marine protocol, leading to a corner and covering for the next guy, but not a shot was fired inside the bunker. Dion casually walked in, Springfield on his shoulder.

"It's clear, sir. There's nobody here." The Husky analyzed. "But there appears to be an entrance to something else. They must have escaped through here."

Dion went over to check things out, and opening the hatch, there was indeed an underground passage extending farther than he could see. "It would appear so. Semper-Fi, boys. Our job just got a whole lot easier!"

The men called in battle cry, and filed into the dark alleys below. Dion radioed the mission status into command, checked his clip, and crept into the tunnel behind them. The shaft ran deep, sometimes the concrete ended and was replaced with raw dirt held up from collapse by wooden beams, but the network seemed to be connected to every bunker on the hill. Many of the hatches were locked, but couldn't stand in the face of the C4 charges. The jerry soldiers inside each embankment fell unaware of the squad infiltrating right behind them. There wasn't an allied casualty to be had. Things were going smoothly.

Another hatch. Dion approached, sure that it would be locked as the rest were, but amazingly, it was not. The gate cringed and squealed as it opened into the darkened fortress.

"Move in." He ordered.

Each of his men hugged the walls as they penetrated the enemy resistance, slaughtering the grey uniforms in a hail of bullets. The swastika banners and National Socialist propaganda soon became stained with the blood of the soldiers who worshipped them. The three-level bunker held at least a dozen bunk beds and soldiers to fill them all, but Dion and his crew of 6 managed to clear out the largest station yet without so much as an injury. Nobody took a hit, nobody was caught off guard. Today seemed like the perfect day to be an American.

"Good work, Private Keegan." Dion placed a hand on the shoulder of his newest recruit, the redtail fox, who had just finished off the last enemy.

"All clear, sir." The boy replied. Dion turned to lead his men back into the tunnels, to continue the day's dirty work, but as he looked over to the hatch, a small, dark object flew past him, and the door closed.

"Look out!" he heard one of his men say, but the concussion grenade cut him off. In a flash, Dion's senses were garbled. He could not see or hear anything, but he could feel the bullets cutting the air all around him. As he regained his awareness, he instinctively jumped for cover in a utility closet. The ringing in his head simmered, and he realized that he was no longer holding his Springfield. He unfastened his Colt as the walls around him exploded in heavy-caliber fire. He could see three of his men down in the hallway, holes ripped clean through their bodies by enormous shots. He was just about to jump out into certain death and take as many as he could with him, but another concussion grenade clinked and rolled into the narrow space he occupied.

The next thing he knew, Dion was in a dark room that smelled of tepid water, tied to a chair, unable to move. He couldn't see much, but a thin branch of light peering out from a crack in the wall illuminated him in the chair. He tried wiggling his wrists and ankles, nothing. The chair was bolted to the floor, so throwing his weight around wouldn't be much help either. Having just woken up and still in a daze, he hadn't noticed the limp bodies hanging from the ceiling on either side of him, and, being a soldier, was far too familiar with the scent of blood to take any particular notice of its lingering odour.

Dion could hear voices, speaking german, faintly in the background. Aside from that, there was only the gentle hum of a generator or water pump deep within the underground fortress. No more artillery fire rocking the ground above, which meant there was most likely nobody coming for him any time soon. Staring at the floor, Dion began upon the realization that he was going to die.

Then, his ear twitched, at a slight noise very close to him. He looked over his left shoulder to see the mutilated torso of one of his men, hanging from meat hooks over a blood-stained and flesh riddled area. Over his other shoulder, a body more intact hung suspended, and it was this one that moved. Private Keegan, one leg severed at the knee and bandaged as a stump, hanging inches off the ground from hands in chains. He began to stir, to open his eyes.

"Keegan!" Dion whispered. The fox lolled his head around to look with hazed eyes to his Sergeant, but said nothing. No doubt still in shock from the injury, Dion surmised.

"Keegan! Answer me, man! Shit!" Keegan looked on without as much as a twitch. His bushy tail soaked up the blood seeping from his leg. Then it occurred to Dion, that while such an injury could have commonly been seen where bouncing bettys or landmines were a factor, they hadn't been attacked with such methods. High-caliber machine gun fire could sever limbs, at times, but it was incredibly rare. The nature of Keegan's injuries led Dion to only one conclusion. Torture.

The voices grew louder, and double steel doors at the far end swung open with a clash. Two enemy officers in impeccable Whermacht uniform entered with MP40s in hand. A shuddering moan escaped Keegan's lips, and he hung his head low in submission.

"Sind sie wieder bie bewusstsein?" shouted one Pit Bull as they approached.

"Suchen, holzkopf. Naturlich ist er." Directed the other, Golden Labrador.

"Okay, fuck you, Nazi pig!" yelled Keegan.

"Faulenden und gemein. Er riecht nach schei?e." Said the pit bull, focusing on the poor fox in chains.

"Ja, der Kommanduer Dielheimer abgeschnitter sein bein." The Labrador pointed out.

"Ich sehe, dumkopf. Ich habe die augen." Sarcastically remarked brown fur.

"Wann verwendet man sie? Nur wenn es frauen gibt, zur schau ihre schubladen fur sie." Mocked fair fur.

"Wenigstens habe ich eine frau gesehen unterwasche-"

"Shut up!" Dion convulsed in his chair. "Shut up! Shut the fuck up! Have you no idea how annoying your language is?" His obscenity was met with a fist to his face.

"Mochten sie sterben?" The pit bull pressed a cold barrel against his head, smile on his face. "Ich wurde ruhig bleiben, wenn ich sa?en auf dem stuhl."

Dion stared back at him, scowling in disgust. What little german he knew, he had learned from POWs and captured enemies. "Ende meines lebens, schweine-hund!"

The expression of the pit bull now turned to offence, and he raised weapon in anger, but was stayed by another dark voice.

"Halten sie."

Standing in the doorway, blocking most of the light, was the most massive thing Dion had ever seen a uniform sized for. It approached, and the shadow became visible as a decorated black uniform, plastered over the expansive body of a white rhinoceros. He stepped quietly on the concrete floor, seeming to weigh nothing at all. The officers in grey saluted him.

"Kommanduer."

He stepped closer to the pit bull, towering over him.

"Kehren sie zu ihrem vater, schamen."

"Ja, Kommanduer."

The two pups scurried off into the light, leaving the rhinoceros staring down at Dion. Private Keegan seemed to fade in and out of awareness, moaning in a bitter mix of pain and fear. The rhino stood stern and tall, hands behind him in the german stance of respect and loyalty.

"Deutche?" asked the commander.

"Nein." Dion knew a few simple phrases in german, but not enough for extended conversation, which the villain would surely now engage in.

"Shame." The overpowering voice whispered. "It is so fluid a language, however annoying you may believe it to be." He walked about in subtle goose-step, waiting for response.

Dion sighed, "What would you believe it to be, Kommanduer?" He enabled.

"Ha, ha! A player of the colloquial game, I see." He examined, facing him. The enormous figure knelt down to eye level with Dion. "It is power, my friend, and nothing less than pure power."

Dion was intrigued, to say the least. Although an enemy, there was no denying his charisma and dominance.

He continued in near flawless English accent, "National Socialist propaganda, the very symbol to which we attribute ourselves," He fondled the gold-plated swastika on his breast. "the patriotism of our soldiers is our greatest military advantage. The will to die for a certain amount of land with a certain name, certain borders and a certain language, there has never been a more cunning thought. What we would do for our loved ones, we would sooner do for the land under their feet, an organization and its ideals, despite our own. The system holds the power to exist under circumstance, to which the person within the organization holds dear and true. The german name, the german language, the german existence is all part of the system and the people within will do whatever it takes to lead that system to ultimatum. Thus, power to reach ultimatum. Power to control, power to expand, power to strike and kill and claim for our own what is left behind. Germany will take world power, for Deutcheland is power."

Dion never expected such philosophical words from a Nazi, and despite the position he was in, couldn't help fascination.

"But what is power?" asked Kommanduer Dielheimer. Dion couldn't tell if it was rhetorical, or if the rhino was once again begging for an answer.

"Power is ability, freedom and choice, control." Dion played along. "It is the line between chaos and order, and it is the breaking point of those who would think themselves perfect."

"No, power is not an imaginary line between two juxtaposed realities, nor is it the edge of a cliff with one's current self at the top and another self at the bottom. Order is only a guise for the fear of chaos and each are the mirror image of one another. The notion that power can corrupt the soul is blather as well; the soul is constant and omni-fluent, power only alters its aspects to fit the current.

"Power is a means and power is an end, always flowing in cycle. Power lost, power gained, it doesn't matter, only that there is power."

The manacles clinked and jostled about on Dion's forearms. He could smell the deep musk on the rhino's collar as he stood and waited for response. Dion's mind was dry, he drew a blank.

"I can see you understand. You are powerless and I, all powerful, to do what I will with you and your Private."

Dion looked up to him, the towering figure shadowing over reached into a holster and drew a Walther. Without hesitation, he pointed the barrel at the limp body hanging, and emptied the clip in round after round into his torso.

"Keegan!" Dion screamed for any whisper from the fox, but he was silent. "You bastard! Motherfucker!" He shook about in the chair, wrenching on his arms until they bled, desperately trying to free himself.

"HAH ha ha!" his maniacal laughter pierced the air. He pistol whipped Dion and pressed the warm muzzle against his throat. Dion spat in blood and awaited death, but as the white rhinoceros pulled the trigger, only a faint click came from the gun.

"Ha, ha ha. Death will not release you yet, my friend." His beefy white hands tossed aside the spent Walther P-38, and reached down to a black leather belt holding his trousers closed. He unfastened the buckle and reached inside. Out came the last thing Dion had expected, the white rhino's erect cock.

At nearly two feet long, with an odd crook in the middle like a lightning bolt, the Kommanduer shoved it in his face, and when Dion held his mouth shut, it was simply pried open by force. Instantly the pre-cum began to flow, and Dielheimer forced the tip deeper and deeper into his throat. Apparently female rhinoceros were a hard mate.

No part of it was enjoyable for Dion as the crook bobbed closer and closer to his lips. One massive thumb still held his jaw wide open to receive it. Just as Dion thought he could hold his breath no longer, the rhino appeared to be reaching his climax. It screamed in wild mating cry, and abandoned the choke hold to put both hands on the back of the chair and buck harder into gasping Dion. The crook entered his mouth and slid down his throat as he took in the entire two foot length. He felt the torrent of warm load fill his stomach, and the thick knob retreat the whole way back up.

Choking and coughing as the cock left him, Dion vomited most of what was just deposited. Dielheimer panted as his limp dick still shot thick streams all over Dion's shirt.

As the Kommanduer put himself away and fastened his belt, Dion thought surely that he would now meet his end, but then a massive explosion rocked the very hill around them.

"Ha, ha, ha! You fucker, now you're done!" Dion laughed.

"What? What is it? I demand to know!" The wide-eyed Kommanduer almost looked scared.

"They just H-Bombed your ass, which they wouldn't have done unless all your troops were out in the open. Which means there's a whole fucking battalion coming for me right now."

Another explosion, this one smaller but much closer, shook the cabin. The Kommanduer called for his men, nothing.

"They're all dead. They're all dead!"

He began to hear submachine-gun fire down the hallways, and American voices calling out orders. The Kommanduer scurried about, looking for his MG. He took Dion's head in his hands and stared him in the eyes.

"I will come for you." He coldly stated. Dion didn't know what to make of that, all that mattered was that the hill was being sacked. The white rhino scurried off into the dark just as American soldiers filed in.

"Sergeant MacAllister! We found MacAllister!"

Dion no longer had the energy to keep himself awake, and his body fell limp to be carried back across the lines.

* * *

Back at base camp, Jacob found his tent empty. Concerned, he tromped over to the field hospital to check on the status of his squad. There, he found that furry piece of ass he'd been missing all day, in the midst of a psychological exam. He waited until the doctor was done, and then approached.

"Sergeant. Where's the crew?" Dion looked to be in a daze, staring right through him. "Dion?"

"Take me back to the tent. Come on, help me walk." He said complacently.

"Are you hurt?" Jacob asked, slinging an arm over his shoulder. "No. Not really. Just exhausted."

Their tent was empty besides themselves, and the only men on base were in the deployment hall 500 yards down the way. Everyone else was on duty. Jacob sat on the bed beside him.

"Are the flaps shut?" Dion whispered.

"Yes. Are you going to tell me what happened to the boys?" Jacob asked again.

"Well, if they're not dead, then they are still captive. Down in those tunnels." Dion looked into him, still and silent. "That psychopath. He had to be an SS Honor Guard or something. A white rhino, black uniform, lugging around an MG like it's a toy, and down in those tunnels to boot. Enclosed spaces, he tore us to shreds. Keegan, Doyle, McReary, they're all dead. Harlem may have gotten away, but I doubt it. I barely made it out. Oh God, the things he did to the other captives!"

Jacob looked on, unable to speak. He wanted to ease Dion, to tell him that he was safe now, but in Nazi-occupied France, there was no such thing as safe. Just when he thought he could step up to say something, though, Dion embraced him. Jacob wrapped his arms around him, accepting him, listening to him. He said something more, but so quietly that Jacob couldn't make it out.

"What?" he whispered back.

"Fuck me." Dion shuddered, cold, grasping for Jacob's shirt.

"What, here? We could get caught, we-"

"I thought I was going to die today. I thought I would never see you again; I thought that bastard was going to put a bullet in my head and all I wanted was to see you again. I wanted to say goodbye. I wanted..." Dion parted and looked into space. "I... love you. I love you Jacob. I wanted you to know that."

Jacob took a black palm and held Dion's chin. He leaned in and brought his head around to meet him. Closing his eyes, he calmly kissed the tiger's lips, soothing him. This must have sparked Dion back into heat because he forcefully wrapped around Jacob's torso, taking him down to the mattress; he began grinding into the panda, jolting him with the tip of his ripe cock.

"Now, are you going to fuck me or am I going to have to take it from you? Come on, there's nobody even on base until 104 takes over this evening." Dion smugly repeated as he took his jeans down just enough to reveal his erection.

"Well, since you put it that way, I should get out of these wet cl-HA!" Jacob bent as Dion's cold hands went down the front of his pants.

"I'm not waiting that long!" Dion denied him. "I only need access to a few square inches!" He straddled Jacob, furry tiger rump hovering over his crotch, thick tiger hard-on staring him in the face. As he unzipped the zipper and pulled Jacob's warm cock into view, Dion ejaculated a few premature droplets in pure anticipation.

"Haa... Ah." He could not hold back the reflex to hump the air in front of him, slapping his balls against Jacob's repeatedly.

"Wow, you're an animal!" said Jacob, stunned by the amazing sexuality Dion portrayed. After recovering from the mini-orgasm, the tiger shimmied a few inches out of his boxers, revealing his tight ass. He then reached down and lined up the wavering cock, and came crashing down onto it.

"AH!" He raged, taking the entire shaft at once. Jacob was hardly bigger than average, but with the speed and ferocity that Dion rode him, it was still one of the best he ever had. He bounced up and down, tailhole swallowing every millimetre each pass. With every lurch, his hips slammed down onto Jacob's, and he could already feel his climax approaching.

"Oh God, Jacob! Oh!" He screamed at the top of his lungs. His penis throbbed, still inside his boxers, and begged for release. Dion raised his hand up, grasping the cross-beams of the bunk above them, using them for support. Like pull-ups, only this kind of exercise was much more fun. He used the other hand to begin handing off inside his cotton undies, taking as much of Jacob's cock into his ass with each bound. He wanted desperately to be rid of his briefs, but currently lacked the coordination to pull himself free. His erection was so big, it seemed like the fabric was about to tear right off of him. He had to stop, only for a moment.

"Hold on." Dion managed to sputter out between breaths, and he rested for a moment at the base of the shaft. He took just enough time to pull his raging member out of its cage before he went to continue, but Jacob had already taken matters into his own hands. "No, you hold on!" The giant panda grabbed hold of Dion's hips, and forced them down onto his dick as he relentlessly humped deeper into him.

"Oh, YES! Don't stop, Jacob. Ah!" Dion yelled, grasping the wooden beams above him, suspending himself to be rampaged. He began to spasm his hips, sending the rock-hard rod flailing around inside him. "HahhAH!"

A bright stream erupted steadily from the tip of Dion's lolling member, going as far as Jacob's chin before splattering all over his shirtfront. After watching his tiger climax, Jacob slowed down, but by no means did he stop. He looked onto Dion, panting heavily, moaning slightly with each movement, and eyes shut tight. When he opened them, Jacob was grinning at him. Dion released his death grip on the overhead bars and fell onto him, kissing him. Then he parted, speaking,

"Hah, hah, that was incredible, Jacob. Where did you learn to do that?"

"Experimentation, really." He smiled.

"Really? You didn't learn a few tricks from a boyfriend back home?"

"No. Before I met you I was a virgin!" He continued to lightly prod at Dion's prostate. "Can I get off now?"

"Of course you can. How do you want it, babe?" Jacob looked about the tent for a second, before deciding.

"Up against a wall, but there are no solid walls here." He looked back to Dion as if he might have an idea.

"The exercise room." He sported a toothy smirk.

So they quickly threw on whatever clothes they needed, which is to say, none, and sprinted shirtless through the dark and the mud to the barracks, the only solid building on base. The exercise room had two bolt-lock doors, but Dion's agility allowed him access through a high window.

"Jacob! What a surprise!" He joked as he opened the door.

"Thought I'd drop by, see if my little man-whore was in the mood." He went along.

"Well come on in, let's party!" Dion left the door frame and went about his business. Noticing that the inside door wasn't locked, he quickly waltzed between the weight benches and presses and latched it. "Well, look at that. My acrobatics were completely unnecessary." Panda, light-footed, snuck up behind him.

"I wouldn't say that. Seeing you bend in and out of shape made me extra horny." Jacob said into his ear and he ran his hands through the soft white fur of his belly, and down the front of his pants.

"Ah- all that excitement will have to go somewhere." Said Dion back as he leaned forward into the wall and protruded his tail out to be mounted. Jacob dropped to his knees, and took Dion's pants with him.

"I can certainly think of a place." Jacob reached up to pull on the boxers, still a little wet in the front, and Dion's hard shaft sprang free. He lifted his striped tail high, revealing his pink pucker. Jacob went for the balls first, lapping at the base of the warm cock and all the way up to his tailhole. He did this several times, before focusing on that small, arousing spot entirely. He worked his tongue around it, taking his time, getting him ready, and then applied pressure to the centre.

"Gaah." Dion moaned as Jacob's soft tongue penetrated him, rasping the edges of his ripe hole. He could still taste his own pre-cum leaking out of it as Dion stepped out of his clothes, spreading his legs farther apart, allowing Jacob to bury his muzzle in the crack.

"Oh Ja-... Ah!"

"There," Jacob retreated from the wet space. "now you're ready." The tiger's penis twitched as he ran his hands along the length of it. Standing on his feet, Jacob reached around to paw at the swollen member, unbuttoning himself with the other. "Aren't you?"

Dion whined. "Do it. Do me!"

Jacob grabbed firm hold of Dion's hips, and slowly pressed his knob into the slick hole. He pushed in as far as he could reach, making Dion squirm in pleasure.

"Ha, ha. You better be." Jacob laughed.

"Wha-AAH!" Dion yelped as Jacob began shafting him as fast and hard as he could make his hips move. He forced their bodies closer to the wall, almost as if he believed Dion would try to get away. He pounded his balls against Dion's, sliding his dick in and out of his ass at an alarming rate. "Hah, oh Jacob, you're such a good fuck." Dion moaned as he lifted one leg to the side. Jacob took the room given to him, and slammed deeper into that tight rump. He weaved his fingers into the soft hair on Dion's chest, feeling his heart begin to beat faster and faster, his breaths become shorter and shallower.

"Already, Dion?"

The tiger only nodded.

"Dammit. You can't hold it back?"

"No. You're too good!"

Jacob didn't want to let the orgasm slip away again, but with his partner so sensitive, it seemed he would be forced to.

"I'm sorry, Jacob, but maybe I can help you, too. I shaved the hair on the end of my tail, see?"

Jacob looked up to see that, indeed, a good 10 inches of fur was gone from the skin at the tip.

"I scratch your back, you scratch mine, Jacob. I'm so close. I'll give you something you've always wanted. Get me?"

"I already scratched your back, but OK." Jacob proceeded to put his hands under Dion's knees, lifting him off the ground, and exposing his tailhole for maximum depth. Dion put one arm around the back of his neck, and moaned helplessly as Jacob continued to hammer away inside him. His ass began to gush with clear anal fluids that lubricated the pathway, and he roared into climax again.

"HAAh! Ah!" Another solid stream of cum shot straight up out of his cock as he craned his head back and basked in the ethereal ecstasy.

Jacob pulled his pulsing dick from Dion's no doubt sore asshole.

"We had a deal..."

"I know. Let me down." Dion intended to make good on the verbal contract. He laid down on the floor, head up against the wall, and Jacob seemed to sense what he had planned. The panda straddled over his chest, with his wet phallus leaking pre into his face.

"Great thing about cats," he started, "is how flexible we are. When I was a teenager, I used to put my tail up my ass and suck myself off. This shouldn't be too much harder, but it's all for you this time."

"Just don't swallow when I come. Hold it all."

He smiled and looked up to his waiting lover, before simultaneously taking Jacob's dick to the back of his throat, and splitting him apart with his own. A low growl erupted from the bear as he was pleasured from both sides, and all the pre-cum he had built up came gushing forth too fast for Dion to swallow it. The clear fluid flowed in his mouth, and what he couldn't contain dribbled out the corners and off of his chin. Meanwhile, his thick member ploughed into Jacob from behind, going deeper with every thrust.

"Holy hell!" Jacob nearly buckled from the sensation, and put one hand against the wall for support, another on top of Dion's bobbing head. He had already worked over half his eight-inch felinity into Jacob's juddering bowels, and wasn't about to stop now. In fact, he decided to speed things up, pile-drove the rest of his aching shaft into Jacob's tight ring.

"Dion!" he wailed, clearly not expecting so much at once, and respectfully deposited a few more shoots of pre-cum.

The tiger popped the slick knob out of his mouth just enough to speak a word, "More?"

"Yes!" Dion resumed his labour, grunting and humping, but now he snaked his tail around and pressed it into the juices flowing from their coupling. After it was sufficiently lubricated, he squeezed it into the hole alongside his pumping cock, wiggling it in frenzy as he entered.

"AH! Oh DION! Hah-AH!" Jacob screamed so loud it made his throat burn, and was sure that someone heard them, but he cared of nothing more than the double-penetration barraging his innards, and the wet tongue sucking his own tool of pleasure. He grabbed hold of Dion's skull, and flailed without control or mercy. Then, just as he was about to unleash his load, he held Dion still, with only the very end of his urethra poking in between his teeth. From there flowed a torrent of panda cum, into the waiting mouth.

"Haaa! Hah, Hah... AAH!"Jacob arched like a feral housecat. Dion did his best to do as he was told, but couldn't help swallowing a few wayward drops. After Jacob heaved and moaned for a few seconds, he looked down to see Dion's head in his hands, still waiting with a full mouth. Jacob lifted him up and fell backwards to the floor, taking the tiger with him and laying under him. On the way down, they shared the best tongue kiss either ever experienced.

* * *

It was nearly pitch black that night; no moon, clouds and smoke over the stars. Dion opened his eyes. He had awoken, but there was no noise, no light. He reached behind him, feeling to where Jacob should have been, but he was gone.

Dion turned to face the empty spot in the blankets, and his heart went from zero to sixty in a single beat, and he was frozen in fear. Crouching next to the bed, holding an MG 42, staring into him was the white rhino. Kommanduer Dielheimer.

Dion couldn't even breathe. The rhino, emotionless, put a finger to his lips, and stood to walk away. Once again, he made almost no sound at all as he tread on the bare dirt floor of their tent. A tense silence passed. After Dion regained some focus, he sat up on the bed, and turned to look over to the fabric flap doors. The tent was empty, neither Jacob nor the german commander shared its space.

"Shit!" Dion whispered to the air. "What the hell? Did I hallucinate? Was that a dream?"

He looked around again, still nothing. He reached under the bed for his possessions, unlatching the steel box and pulling out a shirt. He dressed and strapped his holster to his waist, slid Jacob's cigarettes into his shirt pocket. He grabbed his Springfield and made sure there was a full clip inside. Still jittering from the shock, he could barely handle the bolt manifold. Then, he heard something outside, a small crack like a twig under foot. Dion remained still as possible, minimized his breathing and listened again. Whatever it was, it was moving around towards the flap doors.

Dion cranked the bolt and pulled it back, releasing a single round into the bolt manifold, and pushed it forward into the chamber. He began to feel another quiver shake him, but he remained still as possible as he stared down the sights at the opening. Another snap, closer, and a large shadow appeared outside the crack in the door. Dion's cat eyes widened, and he slipped a sweaty finger onto the trigger, releasing the safety with his thumb.

The fabric of the tent wavered with a breeze, and Dion shuddered with intent to kill.

"Come on." Dion whispered. He was ready to fire, when he heard the shadow yawn. A yawn?

He knew that voice, and Jacob's black, furry fingers parted the shawl. Dion breathed in relief, and returned the safety to a locked position.

"Jesus, Dion! What are you doing awake with a gun?" Jacob blocked his face with a hand.

"Where the hell were you?" Dion lifted his barrel.

"Out taking a piss. Now you answer my question." Demanded Jacob, fishing about for his glasses.

"We need to get out of here, now."

Dion grabbed hold of Jacob's hand, leading him out, cautious and wary, checking the surroundings.

"What is it, Dion?"

"He's here. That rhino. He came for me just like he said."

"What are you talking about?" Jacob pleaded. "There's no way he would attack us here. He couldn't be seen with that many troops."

Dion rejected his theory, "But if it was just him and a few soldiers, they could move through the countryside unnoticed."

"Then how would he take the barracks? With a couple of men?" Dion stopped in the road, and turned to face him.

"There's nobody here, Jacob! There are a few techies in the barracks, a doctor and nurse in the hospital, and everyone else packed up with the convoy and moved to the village under hill 25 since sacking it yesterday. The other battalion was supposed to be here this morning, but they're not. I'm here because of the hospital facilities..."

"And I'm here because of that stupid radio op mission with the polack, which I almost died on, by the way!" Enunciated Jacob.

Dion nodded.

"So... where are we going?" Jacob continued walking.

"To get the GP and get out of here."

"We couldn't go to the barracks and radio the attack, if there has been one yet?"

Dion surmised, "If I know this sadistic asshole, the techs are already dead and the equipment is fried."

"How do you know?"

As they approached the tent designated as the garage, Jacob got his answer. Every jeep was doused in gasoline, the tires slashed.

"Shit! He's right on top of us! What the fuck do we do now?" Dion was beginning to panic. "He said he would come in right behind us. This must be what he meant! He's trashing the place so the 104th can't dig in or offer support. The convoy is vulnerable! They're all going to die!"

"Calm down, Dion. Get a hold of yourself."

Almost as if by a soldier's intuition, they both looked back over to their bunk tent, and out the opening stumbled two grey uniforms and submachine guns.

"Schnell!" yelled one, and they raised their weapons. Dion and Jacob ducked behind a jeep in time to avoid the hail of bullets, but they wouldn't last long there.

"Gimme' your Colt!" Jacob didn't wait for an answer. He unfastened the holster and drew the pistol. Nine rounds in a clip, he always kept count in his head when he used his sidearm.

"On three! One..."

"Two..."

A momentary pause in the fire was all they needed. "Three!"

They simultaneously jumped out of cover, blazing barrels as they caught their enemies in the open. Dion scored a headshot on one, while Jacob capped two rounds into the chest of the other. They fell to the ground without a cry of pain, ensuring that they were both dead.

The corner of Dion's eye caught a glimpse of light; he turned his head, and saw the white Kommanduer light a Molotov Cocktail.

There was no time for words. Dion grabbed Jacob's hand again, dragging him out the back of the tent and into the trees. As the tent erupted in flame, the white rhino bellowed and opened fire with his MG 42, shattering the bark from the trunks all around them. They blitzed as fast as they could down a steep forest slope, jumping from rock to log and bounding between the branches in the dark of night.

There was no looking back, not a moment to spare. Jacob knew he was hot on their trail as they narrowly escaped hits here and there. Bark and sap flew in all directions as each heavy bullet perforated the trees all around them. Dion and Jacob moved swiftly together, trying anything to cut the line of sight, even if for a moment. Jacob stopped and peered back up the slope, to where the enormous figure crouched on a rock. Kommanduer raised his weapon to eye level, Jacob steadied his pistol hand and went for the killshot. A short burst erupted from the MG, Jacob lined up his sights with the flash and fired.

Dion screamed as high caliber bullets passed through his thigh and shin, and Jacob didn't even look to see if he hit the mark. He was immediately at Dion's side, picking him up, helping him to walk.

"Gaah! Ngh!" Dion stifled his cries of pain as best he could. Jacob could hear the rhino screaming up above. He had no idea how the beast could still live; if he hit the mark at all, it should have been a kill.

"We need t- AAH!" Dion tried to relay.

"Shh, I know. We're getting the fuck out of here. Lean into me, I've got'cha."

The pair reached the bottom of the hill, where forest ended and farmland began. A vast field and a few vacant buildings was all that could be seen, and with no other option, they hobbled for the farmhouse after a quick shirt-cloth tourniquet was applied. They cut a wobbly line through the wheat, hoping and praying that the Kommanduer was in either shock or bleeding heavily himself.

Just as they crawled out of the ditch and waddled up onto the porch, a Nazi-grey utility car blazed down the dusty road towards them. Jacob carefully placed Dion just inside the front door, sitting on the stairs up to the second floor.

"There's more of them... what do you think we should do, Dion?"

Shakily, Dion thought a moment. "Leave me here. It's dark, they shouldn't be able to see me in here, but I have a perfect view of where they're going to pull in. I'll try to take out the driver before they get too close."

"Okay, what should I do, sergeant?"

"Go up to the second story, do what you do best, soldier!"

"Sir!"

Jacob's tired muscles carried him up the flight of stairs, to what appeared to be a pub in the vacant building. A shadowy bar curved around into a J shape and stools sat every which way about the place. As he entered, an open window looked out onto the driveway directly behind him.

As the Volkswagen's extended front end wheeled around to pull off of the gravel road and onto the bare dirt, a shot careened through the windshield and into the driver's throat. The nazi collapsed against the wheel, but his dead foot fell onto the gas. The three other men in the vehicle scrambled for the wheel, but there was no time for any of them to stop the car from crashing or bail out.

"Shit..." Dion whispered as he cranked the bolt and watched the car plummet towards him. Everything shook under him as the wheels bounced up the steps and the car met a sudden stop at the doorway.

Inside the car, the men were dazed, but wouldn't be for very long. Dion made a shallow attempt to climb up a step or two, knowing that a bolt-action rifle was no match for three submachine guns at such close quarters. Then, as he looked back, he saw Jacob drop down from the porch roof behind them, and immediately put a single shot into each one.

With a toothy grin, Jacob blew the smoke from his barrel and looked in to Dion, who breathed a wide-eyed sigh of relief. Then, as he started up the steps, Jacob saw Dion's face morph into the thousand yard stare once more.

"SIX!" yelled the tiger as he peered down his sights.

Jacob spun on his heel and dropped to his knees. Heavy fire erupted from the ditch side, where a hulking figure approached. Dion shot once, the Great Panda twice as more than a dozen bullets sprayed past Jacob and into the house. Dion scored a hit into the shoulder of the rhino, while Jacob could not be sure one way or the other if his bullets had made it to their mark as Dielheimer spun and recoiled from the powerful rifle shot.

His limp body fell into the ditch, and Jacob was about to go in for the kill, but Dion stopped him.

"Don't do it, Bale, that's an order!"

It must have been the soldier's intuition again, thought Jacob, as he hopped up the steps and the rhino crawled prone from the ditch firing steadily into the house. He quickly scooped up his Sergeant and they hobbled up the steps, avoiding the hail of rounds.

"How many times do we have to shoot this bastard?!" Dion panted.

"I don't know. I've only got one shot left in the Colt. What about you?" asked Jacob as he helped him towards the back of the house.

"I'm not sure. Three, I think. I can't go much farther, Jacob. I have to stop."

"Ok, then we'll stop. Come on." Jacob let more of Dion's weight fall into him, leading him farther into the house as the machine gun outside penetrated the walls behind them. They found a small bathroom at the back of the house, and rested against the wall. In the near pitch black, Dion shuddered and breathed hard, holding Jacob close for warmth. The bullets subsided and the farm house fell quiet. They sat on the floor, guns in hand, and listened to the floors creak as Kommanduer Dielheimer trod about below them.

Dion then realized that his injured leg had still been leaking blood, and that the enormous nazi would eventually follow the trail.

"Jacob..." he whispered.

"Yea?"

"If- if we die... I'm sorry I could never hold out long enough for you."

"What? Are you fucking kidding me?" Jacob's yellow eyes showed in the dark. Dion shuddered again. "Dion, these past few months have been the best of my life because of you. I would rather die here, now, with you than anywhere with anyone else, you understand?"

They could hear heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.

"Hah, ha. Yea." He smiled.

Jacob raised his Colt .45, Dion, his Springfield. The footsteps grew closer.

"One." Jacob sounded off.

"I love you, Jacob."

"Two."

"Jacob..."

The panda leaned in for what may have been the last opportunity for a kiss, and took it. "You too, babe."

An intense shadow blocked the doorway and the hinges creaked.

"Three!"