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Agnarr sat atop a stone buttress, which was atop a sea wall. That looked out over the Atlantic, the drake held his wings out partially unfolded. Feeling the sea air as it caught and tugged at the dark wing membranes. The Drake was covered snout to tail with deep glossy black scales. His eyes a harsh crimson that contrasted wildly with his black visage.

To most humans who had never met him, the German dragon would seem the spitting image of evil, the devil. A piercing crimson gaze that had frozen many a human during the Great War. But the real Agnarr was a gentle creature at heart, he had no stomach for violence any more. Having reached the later years of his youth, he had been a teacher in the military academy only a year ago. He taught independent dragon tactics, which had been a wild success in The Great War against bi-planes, and horses.

But the slow march of technology, and the change in leadership to the new socialist party had seen him rendered 'out-dated'. He growled as he remembered the stupid words, the mere thought of being called outdated kindled a fire in his chest. The medals that adorned his harness showed he had proved his worth. He wore a Knights Cross on a harness strap next to his left shoulder, a pair of golden instructor wings next to it. A few other medals dangled against his black hide.

He had chosen today to wear his old military harness, because his country had gone off to war without him. Not a single german dragon participant, oh how the Kaiser would weep. The royal man had come up with the idea, the man had been of the opinion that German dragons contained the same German pride as the humans. That they should be offered the chance to fight for the fatherland.

Agnarr and his friends, a bunch of rowdy Drakes with wide eyes filled with hopes of being called heros. To be seen as equals to the noble war heros of old. Had signed up almost immediately after the news had reached them.

A pang of sadness filled his heart, only a few came back with him. Plenty had fallen in that Great War, he himself had been wounded several times. Puckered knots of scales along his sides and chest showed the story of combat. But he also remembered when he had come home during the middle of the war, there was a small parade to drum up support. His wing, part of the 3rd Independent Drake Defence squadron, had been in the parade. The dragons had marched behind the human infantry in ceremonial dress harnesses, feather plumed helmets on their heads with gold braid over the harnesses.

Even when they returned home, defeated their countryman had looked upon them with respect. Stories of the men saved by proud dragons, the skies filled with biplanes and drakes, both parties had spun and twirled in a great dance of death. His heart beat raised, and he could feel the thrill of remembered combat pulse through his veins. His claws ground into the stone tops of the Sea wall as he gripped rhe stone blocks tightly, he could feel the sea air whip past his face almost like the wind when he flew.

But he opened his eyes, and sighed with sadness. He would not be able to fight again, though the passion to fight for the country burned bright in many drakes who had grown up having seen his generation's valiant return. The youth grew up on the war stories of their Sires, and uncles. Just like with human boys, those drakes had aspired to follow in those noble paw prints.

The drake was broken from his thoughts as he heard the rumble of engines. Out in the country it wasn't odd to hear a truck or two. But the sound of multiple overlapped engine tones was very abnormal. The drake turned his head toward the sound, and spotted three vehicles.

One black staff car that had SS heraldry flags waving on the front, and two open top opel blitz trucks that held two full squads of black uniformed soldiers. All the men had helmets, and full battle rattle.

The convoy followed the winding dirt road that ran along the coastal wall, the road he was on led to no military base, or training field. Nor did it go to any town or city of importance. The drake hopped off the wall, as the convoy slowed as it approached him, and he eyed the darkened windows of the staff car. Something was off about the situation, and Agnarr couldn't seem to place it.

The convoy was out of place and an Obersargent in the lead truck stood up watching the dragon. Blue eyes gazing at Agnarr with suspicion, and another emotion he couldn't place.

The dragon sat on his haunches as the staff car's rear door popped open, and a tall man stepped out. Blonde hair cleanly swept back in a tight, professional hair cut. A peaked cap was quick to hide the hair when the man placed his cap on. A leering skull under the visage of an Imperial Roman Eagle that clutched a reef that encircles a swastika. The man's own icy light blue eyes fixed on Agnarr, and the man walked forward with a purposeful stride. The dragon's presence had no effect on the man, who stopped just out of paws' reach and clicked his heels together and gave one of those new fangled salutes his black clothed kind did. Arm out straight and raised up at forty-five degree angle and hailed his Fuhrer Hitler. Agnarr responded with the old Draconian salute of the Great Prussian Empire pounding a paw to his chest. But he offered no praise for the dictator that now ruled the land he loved.

The man's face was bisected by two scars that ran from the left side of his face near the temple To the back of his right jaw and part of his neck. The scars twitched as the man gave a faint, almost predatory smile. Those light blue eyes twinkled as the man lowered his arm.

“Sir Agnarr, The Black, I request that you come with me" the man said in a cool, even tone. Which sent chills down Agnarrs's spine, making him realize something was really wrong with the situation. He felt like prey in the eyes of a predator, like he was in the hunter's trap. A voice In his head screamed for him to leave now, to flee, to fly away as fast as he could.

Agnarr held his emotions in check though, he did not let his fear and uncertainty show to the human. The shoulder borders identified the man as an officer, and at the rank of Major.

“What might be the problem?" Agnarr asked in an apologetic tone, the drake watched the human closely. The man gave a silky smile, though the look in the man's eyes seemed predatory and dangerous. The eyes and mouth betraying what the other one was hiding.

“By order of the Fuhrer all veteran dragons are to be brought back into the service of the Father Land." the SS officer stated and Agnarr nodded his head as if he was considering the words with a fake smile on his snout.

“That is good, I was hoping to serve my country once more" Agnarr said, his crimson eyes flicked to where the squad leader in the back of the truck was watching him. A self satisfied sneer on the man's face.

“I will come, but, ah major…. I have one thing I must do before I leave. The old lady I stay with, she needs someone to open her barn and let the milk cows out to graze." the dragon said, and pointed in the direction of the farm that he knew the convoy had passed.

The officer smiled and gave a dismissive wave, “A Dragon must honor their word I hear, it is very much a cultural thing among your kind. Please let us meet you over there, when you are finished you can ride in the tail truck all the way back to base."

Agnarr bowed, treating the man with great respect, while internally gauging the situation. So many alarm bells rang in his head, but he didn't want to lock suspicious or have the officer believe that Agnarr had figured him out if there was nothing to be worried about.

The black drake backed up a respectful distance before he launched himself over the top of the convoy. Playing at showing off as he did a barrel roll for the men in the trucks. Of which not one clapped, and as he passed over he saw the lead truck had two anti tank rifles stashed on the floor of the bed. While the tail truck had a dozen or so shovels on its floor.

All of which confirmed his fears, and the black drake continued onto the farm, it would be at least 10 minutes for the convoy to turn around and reach the farm he owned. Well owned it was a stretch. He paid for it and kept it up so the old lady's family wouldn't steal it out from under her. What he had said was the truth, the morning rains had passed and it was time to let the livestock out. But there was also something more important stashed next to his nest in the back of the barn.

Agnarr landed in the space between the barn and the small house, the old lady was out front sitting in a rocking chair as she enjoyed the mild weather that day. He let out a roar that meant danger was here. Something he normally did if her relatives were around to harass the old woman. Agnarr landed at a dead sprint, in three long strides he reached the barn and heaved the bar from across the twin doors.

Gnashing his jaws and snarling as the doors opened to urge the dairy cows out of the way. The battle high he knew of old had started to return, his heart beat with excitement. But also hurt with betrayal, his countryman had come not for his aid, but instead for his head.

The large drake ran into the darkness of the old barn, the woman could see the convoy that had passed her home minutes before down the road on a return trip. The old woman instantly started to make her way inside, even she could tell something was very wrong.

Agnarr reached the back of the barn and yanked the lid from an old artillery muntion box. inside, a black helm stared back at him in the faint light and the drake grinned. Ivory teeth catching the rays of light that leaked through cracks in the old roof. If that major wanted The Black, he would get The Black.

—-

Major Claus of the 2nd SS division grinned and hummed a happy tone as He rode in the back of the staff car. His aide, a junior officer fresh from cadet School, gave him the side eye. Claus smiled at the man, and hummed louder.

“My dear boy, vhy do you seem down, ve have zee most vonderful job in zee Reich. Protecting her from within." The major said and the officer fidgeted in his seat, and looked out the window at the farm the convoy was nearing.

“Sir…. Are you sure he isn't suspicious?" the officer asked, the nervousness in the young man's voice evident in his words.

The major gave a wolfish grin before he spoke confidentially, “I read zee file on that black brute. He vants so bad to help zee fatherland, he'll be blind to vhat'll happen. I've picked out the nicest plot on ziss beautiful hill. Vith an old oak tree, a perfect plot for zee war hero."

The major clapped his hands and inhaled “so relax boy, and vhatch zee master at work"

The young officer nodded his head, though that feeling that all was not gonna be alright still nagged at him. He didn't agree with what was about to happen, but he was a young officer. He had his career ahead of him, this is what he would be responsible for in the new lands Germany conquered.

The convoy pulled into the farm parking in front of an open barn, and troops sat in their trucks and looked around. The major opened the door and got out, he spotted a few cows in the fields that hadn't been there when they had passed by before. He tisked softly and motioned for the Obersargent to dismount his men.

“sweep zee fields, zee Farmer hero must have gone to save some cow." The officer's young aide looked around with nervous eyes, his gaze jumped between shadows. The major chuckled as the young boy looked like was about to pass out with fright and he hooked an arm around his young protege's shoulders and pulled the young man tight to his side. He jammed an expensive cigarette into the young man's lips and flicked open a lighter, and lit the paper and tobacco.

“come now, I vas scared vhen I clipped my first dragon, ahhhh….. feather beat me until I cried. Then… I cut off zee beast's vings, it truly vas it or me." the older man smiled as he remembered the old days of his youth as a fledgling clipper. “as you can tell boy, I chose me"

What the pair didn't notice was, as a soldier was walking past the entrance to the barn a shape moved in the darkness. The soldier looked to the right, nothing stood out as abnormal until two crimson eyes opened impossibly close. Only a meter or less from the soldier's head. The shadow in the barn came alive and just as the guard opened his mouth to scream an alarm Agnarrs's head snapped forward like serpents strike. Powerful jaws crushed the man's throat and with a jerk the SS soldier was tossed aside. Though amusingly It wasn't the body smacking into farm tools that had alerted the soldiers who had started to disembark their trucks.

But instead the screech of an angry rooster, the old lady's prized rooster ran past Agnarr to accost the invaders of its territory. The damn creature also gave away the black drake before he was close to the men, still some 50 yards away from the four squads of man. With a mighty battle roar, the drake launched himself from the barn, his body stretched out in powerful strides that ate up the distance in mere seconds. Anger boiled in the beast, as he charged, and the battles of old flashed in his mind.

The soldiers first saw the chicken as it charged toward them, the racuss squawks demanded attention. It was head down, while its legs moved in quick, long strides. The bird's gate and body posture mimicked its ancient ancestor, the T-rex as it charged the German troops. Only for the rooster to feel the ground vibrate beneath its own feet, and the shadow of the property's drake passed over. It's bulk augmented by thick steel plates and a wedge shaped helmet, a white German knight's cross faded but still visible on the chest plate.

The humans scattered, and the two officer turned to see how wrong the Major was, and the young man wet himself as he experienced true pure terror. Headed straight for him was a beast, Argnarr, The Black. Crimson eyes filled with nothing but rage, and betrayal seemed to pin the young man in place. The boy's legs shook, and his heart pounded rapidly in his own ears. His brain screamed at him to run! To flee! To never look back!

The junior officer was shoved aside as the Major turned to face the dragon. A manic smile split the man's face as he shrugged off his great coat. The older man's hand pulled A large break action pistol from a holster strapped under his left arm. The old officer braced both hands around the grip and fired on the dragon as it reached the 25 meter mark.

The short case anti tank pistol fired with a deep roar that rattled the chest. The 13mm tungsten core armor piercing round flew true, but just as it was about to hit home Agnarr began to crouch for his leap. The round impacted the sloped front of the drakes helm just above an eye slit and deflected upwards. The copper and lead jacket around the tungsten core ablated away as the core rode the slope of the helmet in a shower of sparks, and left a shiny gauge in the matte midnight black helmet.

The young officer got to see one millisecond of his commander's dismayed expression before the man's face disappeared into Agnarr's jaws.

Agnarr tore the Major's head away cleany and tossed it away with a flick of his head. German soldiers yelled orders and incoming fire spanked off his armored form. The drake wasted no time, and closed with the four squads, twelve men each. The veteran drake went first for two men who were in the process of trying to retrieve the anti-tank rifles. Bigger cousins of the dead Major's break action pistol, even a glancing blow would punch through his armor.

Agnarr ducked his head low, and he charged toward the men, young inexperienced soldiers broke ranks. In their eyes the rounds they had fired seemed to have no effect, veteran troops yelled for the recruits to hold their ground like true men of the fatherland. But no amount of goding would bring the cowards back in line.

The two men with the anti tank rifles were in the middle of loading their rifles, the two soldiers had used these rifles on dragons before. Though all the other times it was in a surprise ambush on a dragon and into the beast's back. Not from the front, while it was in battle armor, and charging them.

The two soldiers fumbled and yanked on their rifled, as they broke the actions open one man was in the process of chambering his rifle when he was hit. The powerful paw slammed into the crouched man's side and sent him flying ten meters.

The other man just screamed “Scheiße! Scheiße!" over and over as he still Fumbled the release lever sweat coated hands slipped off it.

He looked up to see the red eyes of Agnarr, and tried to run, and succeeded. The man sprinted wildly for the farm house. The only place that seemed safe, the old construction not sized for a drake to enter into especially with battle armor on.

Agnarr turned on the remainder of the squads who had been in the process of trying to reposition themselves. The NCO leader of the group yelled directions, orders to encircle the dragon and shoot Agnarr in his unarmored hind quarters. The drake on full battle high, adrenaline coursing through his veins singled out the man as the soul leader alive. The last person who held this act of betrayal and the cowardly soldiers together. They would all die, he would see to that. But first were the officers, Than the heavy weapons, and then… the Non-comms that held any army together.

He knew once that Obersargent fell the rest of the soldiers would scatter and then he'd divide and conquer. The man was in the process of trying to free a stick bomb from his battle webbing. A reasonable decision if Agnarr had decided to play with the two antitank gunners, but he wasn't some drakling at the schoolhouse learning how to fight. Coming back with training Chalk marks all over his ass and bitching about broken scales. He had fought in a real war, and the sergeant had too. But that man hadn't been an instructor; he didn't wear the ribbons that Agnarr wore under his armored plates.

The dragon charged the German soldier in a weaving pattern, keeping the man from being able to saturate his armor with submachine gun fire. The drake closed the distance only to have a MP40 Thrown into his helmet, and the soldier pulled a bayonet from his belt and lunged forward to meet the drake head on. Human Vs Dragon, and the blade bit into a gape and punched to the hilt in-between the neck guard and shoulder plate. Agnarr roared as pain lanced through his body, and snapped His jaws down on the solders's shoulder and torso. The drake bit down with his full force which caused the man to scream loudly. The soldier yanked the knife free in desperation and tried for a second time at the neck of the drake.

This time the blade skipped off an armored plate and the drake tossed the man with a heave of his neck, the wounded soldier was propelled sideways into the staff car. The loud crack of bone reverberated through the air and the man fell to the ground limp, and still.

The drake turned to see the man that fled toward the farm house had tripped over the dead major's body. And was being mobbed by the rooster, the man begging for his life too a rooster. The other soldiers had scattered, weapons abandoned, one coward chose to shoot himself instead of fight. While the officer's aide, a young redhead boy, still sat where he had fallen over at the start of the mini battle.

The drake snorted with amusement at the sight of a once murderous foe now brought low by common farm fowl. The drake approached the man and let out a snarled hiss. The rooster stood upright and clucked once, then twice, and pecked the man on the head for good measure and walked off. Strutting like a cock in charge, which only earned it a head shake from the farm drake.

The man was curled up in a fetal position, eyes closed and Agnarr settled onto his haunches next to the man as down at the pitiful human. The pride of the SS.

“So this is the will of the Fuhrer? To kill loyal dragons? To murder fellow germans?" Agnarr snarled through clenched teeth, rage evident in his voice. The drake leaned down over the man who trembled like a newborn fawn.

“My kind died in the service of our country, alongside noble men. But it seems that means nothing to your kind!" He snarled loudly and the man squealed and sobbed. The soldier babbled incoherent words as he begged for his life.

“verdammte Wilde!" The drake snarled and stood up, he walked away with a slight limp in his left leg. Agnarr turned his head to look at the redhead who was wide eyed with terror. He sneered at the kid, bloody fangs shown as his lips pulled back in a feral snarl.

“Children" was all the drake said before he launched himself into the air, and beat his wings north bound. The young officer Didn't know were too, but he flopped onto his back. The tension flooded from his body, but every time he closed his eyes to block out the world and try to control himself. He would see the shocked face of the Major as it disappeared into the black dragon's maw.

Agnarr 'The Black', somehow, he knew this wouldn't be the last Germany saw of that drake. If he knew what the future would hold for all those who wore black like him, he would have crawled to the nearest AT rifle and shot the dragon… or himself.

Agnarr looked over his shoulder a pang in his heart as he left the old farm he had retired on. A forced retirement sure, but a good one when he looked back on it. He tore his gaze away from the farm and looked ahead of him, the coast lined bending up toward the north. Toward Denmark, he would escape, and return one day. Though deep down he knew it would only happen in the form of service to another country, too which country he did not yet know.

Reaching under his wounded shoulder he hooked a claw into a leather loop and pulled. Leather cords laced through the mounting loops on the back of each armor plate slipped free. The majority of the armor plates fell free from his harness. Then he yanked his helmet free, and looked at the chunk of metal that had been cut from the helmet when the major had shot him. He clipped that to his harness, and yanked his neck guard free with the snap of leather cords, and tossed the uncomfortable piece of protection away.

The drake flew on and only stopped to land once he was a few miles from the Danish German border, and could see Danish dragons as they patrolled along the German-Danish border. The black drake drew to the ground in a forested clearing, and took a small game path close to the border, only to see that the Germans had already started to set up military units along it. The Danish had responded in kind, they probably didn't know what the Germans were thinking, and at this point Agnarr was in the same boat. Germany wasn't his country anymore, he was without a home now. That fact stung, he knew he would have to leave, if he stayed he would be killed by his own government. But could he really trust Denmark? Or any country that Germany bordered… if the Reich started to expand who knew what country would be next.

Agnarr shook his head clear and searched for a thick area that would be foliage rich to bed down at and wait for night. Agnarr figured he could use his black scales to sneak past the guards. Flying in the space between when the sun sets and the moon rises. In that gap of almost total darkness, he'd fly to the nearest port town in Denmark he could see. From there he would make decisions, at that moment it was only time to rest and gather his strength.

The black drake settled down amongst some thick bushes, and curled his body in on himself. Agnarr winced and licked at the wound from the knife, it still seeped fresh blood. Streaks of red had rolled down his chest and left foreleg. He winced as he stretched the leg out tentatively to full extension, testing the motion, he found that the stab wound was more of a deep flesh wound. It hadn't sliced into any major muscle groups that would stop him from using it. It just caused intense pain when he strained the leg or put too much weight on it.

The drake let out a melancholic sigh, if he had been with his unit in the Great War, a human medic would have tended to him. He would have been right as rain, but what ifs wouldn't help now. He was alone now with no support, his mind began to wander as he waited for the late afternoon sun to set. His thoughts drifted to his wing mates from back in the day. A few had hatchlings and mates, he hoped they would escape. Find their way to safety, but the idea of what those SS monsters would do to young drakes and nesses made his blood boil. The emotion manifested itself as a low rumble, his claws dug deep furrows into the ground. Those bastards had intended to put him in an unmarked grave in some field never to be heard from again. The thought of whole families marched to their doom was sickening and he had to shake his head to force his mind to let go of such thoughts.

The time passed in slow agony, he was left to wander his memory which was torture. Every happy memory had a tinge of sadness. A 'that will never happen again' or a hope that a long forgotten comrade would be safe. He even hoped the old lady at the farm would be fine, the drake hoped she would say whatever the SS goons would want her too. He didn't care if she made him out as a monster for them. Gave them the propaganda to justify the hunt for him, so long as she got to live out her last days in peace.

Agnarr was more then ready to leave when the sun finally settled below the horizon. The sound of night time bugs grew to a steady thrum and the black drake slipped from his nest of bushes. He made his way to the nearest clearing, and then leapt into the air. his plan was to fly out over the ocean and past the border, and then hook back in once it was safe.

With mighty flaps of his wings he rose into the night sky, even his own excellent night sight was blunted by the darkness. After he gained some altitude he started his flight over the sea, in a slow flight, giving long pauses between flaps so he could listen. He would adjust his course to avoid patrol boats and ships. Staying lower than other dragons so he could track their flight by the voids that blocked out known stars. One Danish patrol passed right over him as he skimmed a few dozen meters above the water. His black scales blended perfectly into the inky black void that was the ocean when viewed above in the Darkness. After a few klicks he turned inland and gained altitude again. While he tracked up the Danish coast, and soon saw a cluster of man made lights, as the first port city came into view on the horizon. The moon now climbed into the sky, the ocean waves below had turned to a sheet of shimmering silver.

It was a beautiful sight, the black drake watched the silvery waves pass below as he beat his wings every minute or so to keep his altitude. Agnarr turned his gaze to the growing port city of Esbjerg, the port was housed in a natural harbor. The dragon could see the steady blink of ship's beacons, parked freight ships with lights on. He could make out plenty of different nationalities, all of which were still European, except one boat. As he was flying over the docks, he spotted a ship with a strange flag he had never seen before. A flag with a blue and red square in adjacent Corners, with a star in each of the two other white squares. The lights on the ship were off and the cargo hold was open. The top covers hauled back, but no work was being done. The curious dragon circled over the ships once, and then twice before he slowly descended. The drake dropped through the cargo opening silently and landed with a thud that seemed to reverberate through the hull. Which made Agnarr freeze and listen for a second, after a few Moments of only hearing his own nervous heart beat in his ears, he looked around. The moon light only illuminated the front half of the cargo bay toward the bow. The drake looked around, seeing very little cargo in general, he stepped forward to a stack of green boxes and tried to read the strange language on them. Possibly Spanish he thought, only to freeze when he heard a metal ping behind him. The dragon instinctively turned his head toward the sound after a moment and saw the rich glow of a lighter as a man who had been standing in the shadows at the back of the cargo bay lit a cigar. He puffed softly on it, before he pulled it from his mouth and exhaled a cloud of richly scented tobacco smoke. The smoke hung in the air motionless, the breeze above unable to reach deep into the cargo hold and disperse the cloud.

“Mother always said to treat strangers with hospitality, her being a sweet southern woman and all." The man spoke in a rich deep voice with a Twang to it, an English unlike the British, and Irish, Scottish spoke.

“Now, I can be nice like that, but when you just walk in through an open door…. Well, all I can say is bless your heart." The man continued to speak casually like a dragon was an everyday occurance. No fear in his voice.

Agnarr turned to face the strange human, but ended up backing away a step when the man walked forward. The ember on the cigar glowed softly in the faint light. The man kept taking step after step closer. The open hatch above cast a square of moonlight into the cargo hold, and the man stopped right at the edge of the moon lit square. Curious eyes illuminated by the glow of the cigar.

Agnarr mantled his wings and looked up at the opening above his head. His heartbeat was elevated, the dragon just wanted to escape. Than his eyes flicked back to the man who puffed lazily on his cigar, rich scents of oak and coffee in the air as the tobacco burned.

“I can leave… I apologize for the intrusion…" Agnarr spoke, his heavy Germanic accent evident in his speech. The man just puffed on his cigar again, Agnarr took that moment to bunch his hind legs to leap.

The black drake was halfway into the squat before launch when a finger snapped. A split second later two puffs of high pressure air came from either side of him. He turned to the one on his left, he raised a paw to strike only to lose balance. His forelegs gave out on him, and he crashed to the deck. A deep growl emanated from him, as the steady thump of boot falls approached him.

Agnarr tried to will his body to rise, to do anything but his body wouldn't move. Fear began to flood his mind. Escape, escape was all he could think of, until the man was standing in front of him. Agnarr couldn't look up to see more than the man's legs, a pair of cowboy boots straight out of an American western were right before his snout. The man's knees bent and he made a soft tisk tisk sound as he exhaled smoke right into the drake's face.

“why don't you stay a bit, enjoy the southern hospitality. We're a good bunch… most of the time." the man said, a grin split his thick bushy chestnut beard, and the man's long hair was tied back in a ponytail that disappeared behind the man's broad shoulders.

Two more sets of boots walked forward one from each side, the drake couldn't see them. But he could hear them open pouches on his harness. Agnarr tried to snarl but it came out as some weak hatchling-like sound. The drake tried to show his anger as the humans went through all his stuff. One must have pulled out something they found of interest. One of the men walked over to the bearded man and handed the strange man a placard. Agnarr's eyes went wide, it was the board that held all his medals and ribbons he earned in wartime service.

“Well… Well, you didn't tell us you were a bonafide war hero. A real Delta here boys." The man said, which roased a few chuckles around the cargo bay. Showing that there were more than just three men. The drake could barely believe they had gone unnoticed by his senses. His sense of smell was superior to a human, hearing more acute, his vision sharper. Then he realized it, the cigar, and the man rambling. It masked everything, which had allowed the others to slip around him. Agnarr cursed himself In his head since he could barely speak, he had been so foolish.

“Alright Hanz, I'm gonna give ya something so you can talk. If I even smell a lie, I'll kill you faster than a yote on a rabbit." The man said as he pulled out a vial and used a hand to lift Agnarr's top jaw open pouring the liquid in.

As feeling returned the drake was half tempted to take the man's hand, but he had a feeling it would be a quick way to the grave. So the drake only growled out a few words. “what do you want to know?"

Which drew a broad grin from the bearded man, and he sat down in front of Agnarr just out of paws' reach. “Now a birdie told me, something strange is happening in Germany… Besides the War of course. Something have'n to do with y'alls dragon's."

The man must have seen the shocked look on Agnarr's face because the man grinned. Which made Agnarr boil with anger, there was the sound of claws scratching metal in anger.

“sarge?" a voice called nearby and the man held up a hand to halt something that Agnarr couldn't see.

“You think it's funny when your own country kills its dragons, when your kind are hunted by the very people they died to protect?" Agnarr's growl grew to a snarling hiss that reverberated off the metallic walls. Crimson eyes blazed with anger at the man's perceived insult, the urge to sink his claws into the bastard grew harder to resist.

The bearded man's smile turned to a frown, he looked at a man beyond Agnarr's range of vision “What's the word on road runner?"

“she sent a message that she was about to cross the border an hour ago." the unseen man said. Which made the bearded human relax some, before he turned very serious.

“hey, I didn't know about that. We just heard the German war ministry kick you guys to the curb entirely. Not this, what's happening?" the man asked with a much more serious tone.

“I… I dont know all of it, but political units… SS troops are hunting down former military dragons and…. killing them." He struggled to say the last bit, the odd man looked at one of the soldiers with an odd looking rifle who came to stand beside the man. One of the soldier's tossed Agnarr's damaged helmet to the bearded man, who caught it and inspected the line on it.

“orders tell me I should kill you, OSS doesn't want a bunch of Euros to know we were here." The man held up a hand as Agnarr's red eyes grew wide, and he started to squirm in his half paralyzed state.

“BUT, I'm not a heartless man, it's only been just over a decade since my countrymen killed themselves over freeing your kind. So you're gonna be comn' home with us after we run a few errands of course. Unless you wanna stay in this hell hole Europe is becomin'?" The man said as he stood up and started to walk away, other soldiers followed the man.

Master Sergeant Matthews McBradie motioned for a few men to stay and watch their new 'guest' while the drugs wore off on the black scaled drake. He was followed closely by a corporal who had a small radio in a satchel. The two passed from the cargo hold and threw a hatch deeper into the ship. Sodium lamps cast a solem glow in the ship's halls.

“Stark, I want her back on board as soon as fucking possible, then this ship sailing to Lithuania. The units in Poland will be fleeing the German front, we don't need the countries here to know we are watchin' them. “ Matthew said firmly, the senior NCOs orders offered no choice in what was gonna happen. The corporal nodded his acknowledgement and jogged off to the stairs that lead toward the bridge. The man turned back to look at Matthew, before he ascended the steep stairs.

“Are we really taking him with us?" Matthew snorted and smiled at the young man's question. He knew the young soldier only asked it because he hadn't been in front of the drake. He didn't see the dragon's gaze.

“Ohhh hell yes we are, that dragon is spittin' mad, he's gonna wanna fight. Plus we both know, if this war grows bigger we're lookin' at another 'Great War'. Personally I don't think we're sittin' this one out." Matthew said with a grin, he could feel it in his gut. War was coming, and this time the US wouldn't be distracted with internal struggles. The young man grinned and bound up the stairs on his way to rouse the ship's captain