A World on Fire[Band of Brothers]

Chapter One

I: IT'S STILL ROCK AND ROLL TO ME- BILLY JOEL

"WELCOME BACK TO THE AGE OF JIVE! WHERE YOU BEEN HIDING OUT LATELY, HONEY?"

Aldbourne, England was cold.

It was early October there, the sky laced with gray clouds and drizzles of rain. A chilling breeze permeated through Larkin Wells thin pantyhose and she crossed her ankles, drawing her legs underneath her seat. The jeep she rode in did not have a roof, and the fog was free to creep over every part of her. She frowned slightly as the rain began to sprinkle with more intensity, reaching up to smooth the carefully placed bun at the nape of her neck.

It seemed foreign her. It had been almost five years since she had been home to the temperamental state of Massachusetts, and the climate she had grown up in now set her nerves on fire. It had been less than two months since she had been in the all consuming heat of Africa and her deeply tanned skin had only slightly faded. The waves of fire, the never ending heat of the Algerian days had ingrained in Larkin the sustainability of extremely high temperatures. The freezing nights that she had spent wrapped in her combat jacket has accustomed her to the frigidness she would face during the European winters.

But the awkward mix of cold and hot in Aldbourne was not something Larkin felt comfortable with. She had arrived in Liverpool on a freighter from the hospital in the States a day before and hadn't relaxed since. The rain was cold but the air was hot, an odd sort of humidity made her skin feel clammy and her scars ache. The last time she had been to England was in Spring and the weather had been no where near as dreary.

The sergeant next to her didn't seem at all alienated by the strange weather. Although the American paratroopers had arrived in September, only a month prior to Larkin's own entrance to Britain, it seemed they had already made it their home. The man who had picked her up from the train station was a Sergeant Evans, a short and rather prickly man who had stared at her like she was some sort of bug. His revulsion to a woman in army fatigues was nothing new to Larkin, who had been serving since the very day Pearl Harbor was attacked. It was the classic manly disappointment, that a young woman was playing soldier instead of doing what she was meant to- bear children and cook meatloaf.

Larkin had met his look with a steely smile and a casual mention that his stripes had been sewed on "rather messily for a sergeant, don't you think?" The ride had fallen into silence after that, with Evans sending her multiple frosty looks to which Larkin simply grinned at. It was quite amusing to watch the mans annoyance grow with every serene smile his glares had been met with. The car was flying down the thin country lanes at speeds much higher than the model had been meant for, in a well versed attempt to frighten and most likely threaten Larkin. It hadn't worked in the slightest- Larkin Wells loved speed.

By the time they reached Littlecote Hotel, the destination where Larkin was set to meet her new boss, her hair was almost completely blown out of her bun and the meticulously placed eyeliner ran in rivulets down her cheeks. Evans was grinning triumphantly, knowing he significantly impacted Larkins first meeting with Colonel Sink. His smile, however, fell when the woman looked down at him (she was three inches taller than the 5'5 man) and gave him a shit eating grin.

"Thanks for the ride, Sergeant Evans." She wiped under her eyes, smudging away the black makeup residue. He bitterly noted that even with her windblown look, Larkin Wells was gorgeous. "I suppose your speedy driving is due to your complete lack of confidence in your manhood, but nonetheless, it was a swell time." With a small pat on the mans shoulder, the woman spun around, navigating her way around a large puddle and into the entrance of the Hotel without once looking back at the dumbstruck man.

It only took a few minutes for a strict looking man to guide her into Colonel Sinks office. It was a large and detailed room, most likely having served as the study before the war. A large oak desk sat in front of a wall of windows, overlooking the pristine grounds of the hotel. Adjacent to that was cases and cases of books, lining the wall with knowledge and bound manuals of war tactics. Various boards had been nailed up onto the wall, each covered with maps and military plans.