Helen grabbed his hand and tugged him to his feet.“Come on, Private, on your feet,” Helen said, then tapped her com. “All US squads, check in. E...ven warbands, check in.”A string of of affirmations came into her earbud – but she noticed the lack. “Where’s Colonel Cune?” she asked.“Dead,” a familiar, gruff voice spoke. Gunnery Sergeant Malinowski sounded as matter of fact as NCOs throughout history during shitty, shitty days. “Orbspec says that we’ve still got a hostile sky.”“How many?”“Unknown,”. I do glance down. At his open shirt, at his tight leather trousers, at the bulge in the front of his trousers. I stop myself. Embarrassed, I raise my eyes to his, leaving my head slightly bowed from looking down. I can feel my cheeks hot. “Thank you,” I say, “for the warm coat.” There is a long and silent pause. A cool breeze blows through the bus shelter, cooling my cheeks and hopefully returning my face to its original colour. He doesn't seem to notice my embarrassment or maybe he just does. More

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