Before You Start A War

Chapter Twenty-One

"What?" Harry shrieks, stepping forward.

"If Horan is going to be a pain about walking in front, then we will force him. This has already been discussed prior and Horan is the best person to lead the way."

"But, Corporal--"

"Shut it, Styles. I don't want to hear another word out of you for the entirety of this trip." Sergeant Collins demands, stepping behind Niall and pushing him to his knees.

"No! This is absolutely unfair!" Harry continues, and he can see the fear in Niall's eyes as he looks up at his. Collins binds his hands behind him with the rope.

"Fine. Styles, stay behind. Collins, go on. Horan, if I hear of any problems they had with you, I will kill you myself."

After a moment, Niall speaks up. "What?" The drill sergeant smacks him in the back of the head, telling him to shut his mouth. Niall is pulled to his feet and told to march, and after a moment of staring at Harry, a gun is pointed at his head.

"March." Sergeant Collins demands. Niall cooperates, sending a final look at Harry as he leads the ranks into the forest.

After they've gone a significant distance, Harry yells, "Why do I have to stay behind? I thought I was one of your best soldiers?"

"You are, but you're too nice. The moment Horan is hurt, you'll run to his rescue. If you stay here, there will be no one there to save him." Corporal Maddox explains easily, looking at his knuckles.

"What?!"

The corporal chuckles, "Did you really think we were sending him out there just to talk with the enemy? No, of course not. He'll draw them out, and then we can level them all down together and no one will be the wiser."

"This was your plan all along, wasn't it?" Harry asks, though he feels like he already knows the answer. "To get Niall vulnerable so you could just kill him off?"

"Not initially, no. But I never planned on accepted him as a soldier either. He isn't a soldier. He's a waste of space. He's worthless." Corporal Maddox laughs sinisterly. "But last night, I was roused from my sleep and advised that a Mr. Harry Styles was planning some sort of one-man-uprising against yours truly. Is that true?"

Harry knew someone had to have heard him last night, "The way Niall is treated isn't right and I'm finally going to do something about it."

"Well, Styles, just know you would have failed. You're as expendable as everyone else in this damn camp, and you don't scare me one bit. This is my company, and no damn homo-fucking nancy-ass bitch is gonna change that."

At that, Harry snaps. He leaps forward to attack, pulling his saber from the holster on his hip. However, he's stopped in his tracks as two men from behind the corporal lunge forward and knock him to the ground, binding his hands behind his back like Niall's were earlier.

"Fucker! Let me go!" Harry screams, and he hopes that Niall can hear him from wherever he is in the woods and come running back to save him. However, he knows that's not going to happen. There's a gun trained on his head, much like how Harry is now, since the corporal has since pulled out his own rifle - perfectly polished, probably by Niall - and has it pointed directly as Harry's forehead.

Harry continues squirming, trying to get away from the two men restraining him. His saber and rifle have been stripped off him, and as he kicks and screams, he can hear one of them mutter under their breath, "Stop trying, he's going to kill you."

"Fuck you! Fuck all of you! I can't believe the people I used to call my allies are all fucking bloodthirsty murderers!" Harry kicks away one of the men and then a shot goes off.