Disclaimer: CSI: NY and all the characters from the show are owned by CBS, Paramount, Jerry Bruckheimer, Anthony Zuiker, and other people who are much more creative and wealthier than me. Any other characters are my own and resemblance to any other person is a pure coincidence. Well mostly. Probably. No wait, mostly.

This is my first AU work so I hope you like it. A note; throughout this there are going to be words or phrases that some people may find offensive. It is not my intention to offend anyone, but I wanted to make this as realistic as possible and use appropriate dialogue for the 1940's. With that in mind, please read, review and most of all, enjoy.

Chapter 1: Camp Percival

Machine gun fire erupts around us. Everyone ducks to avoid fire, except for one poor bastard who wasn't quick enough. Half a dozen bullets rip into him and he dies before hitting the ground.

"TAKE COVER! Lay down suppressing fire!" I order my men. They begin to return fire on where we think the German positions are. German machine gun rounds continue to fly all around us. Damn it, we're going to be overrun.

"Alright boys fall back! FALL BACK!" I shout to my men, desperate to save us before it is too late. A terrible whining noise pierces the air.

"MORTAR!" I yell, hoping my men hear me and get protection.

Artillery fire explodes on top of my position. We scramble to get out of the way but it is too late. The men around me are dead. Pain explodes throughout me as a piece of shrapnel digs into my arm and the force of the explosion throws me to the ground. I'm unable to move, unable to think and unable to say anything.

"Protect the Major!" Someone shouts.

"What do you think I…" His voice stops as a bullet tears through him.

Other voices shout and other shots are fired, silencing some of the voices. With horror, some of the new voices I hear are speaking German. In my state, I can't do anything to resist the Krauts. I'm at their mercy, meaning I'm dead.

Two of the Krauts are standing near me. One of them starts arguing to the other, probably over which one gets to kill me. It's a pretty impressive story to tell the other guys in your unit; I killed an American Major. A third one comes up to the duo saying "Nein, nein." He gives them some orders and I offer futile resistance as the two men pick me up and carry me back to their lines. I'm bleeding, my unit has been decimated, and worst of all, now I'm the prisoner of the Germans.

***

I wake up from an unconscious state that couldn't really be called sleep. Standing over me is not a German soldier or member of the Gestapo or even the S.S. Instead, it's an older man dressed in one of our uniforms. Thank God, I must have been rescued by our guys.

"Don't move too much Major. Your arm is not in the best of shape."

"Who? Where? What's going on?"

"One thing at a time Major. I guess I'll start off with the easy ones. I'm Doctor Sid Hammerback."

"Doctor?" I ask confusedly.

"Yep I'm a medic."

"Where am I Doc?"

"A German P.O.W. camp in Italy. Camp Percival to be exact. The Commandant is a Wagner fan. "

"This is a camp?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Damn. Why'd they keep me alive?"

"You are a Major Sir, they must like you." He remarks with a trace of humor that makes me chuckle, but the pain forces me to stop. Doc Hammerback tries to keep me still.

"Easy."

I sit up anyways. My shirt is gone and I look at the nasty cuts and wounds that I took earlier from the mortar attack. My arm is bandaged and in a sling.

"That mortar did a number on you Major."

I'm about to respond when the steady sound of boots gets louder.

"Germans." Doc Hammerback says to me. I'm in no position to do much of anything.

Sure enough, an older officer in the Wehrmacht comes up to us along with his aide de camp. Both their uniforms are impeccably kept and their boots are shined so well I can almost see myself in them. An Iron Cross is fixed to the Commandant's neck.

"Commandant Colonel von Touffel." The aide announces. He offers the Nazi salute to the Commandant who returns it with less enthusiasm. Good I say to myself he's just a soldier not one of the fanatics.

"Major." He says with a thick accent.

"Commandant." I reciprocate.

"I hope you are feeling better. That was a rather nasty injury you suffered. I will see to it that you are provided with a proper American uniform and a meal. Rest assured Major, this is the Wehrmacht, and we are civilized, unlike those barbarians in the S.S."

It is a generous gesture, but I'm sure he has an ulterior motive. "On to more pressing matters. Major, I am here by appointing you as the American commander for this camp since you are our highest ranking prisoner. I want you to help me keep order. After all, we are still soldiers and soldiers must obey a chain of command. You are to keep these men in line. Do I make myself clear? "

"Yes."

"Good. Auf Wiedersehen Major." He and his aide leave us and shout something in German to whoever is outside.

"I guess you are in charge now Major." Doc Hammerback tells me.

"A dubious honor trust me." I remark dryly. He laughs.

I try to get myself out of the bed and Doc Hammerback tries to stop me. "Whoa Major, take it easy. You are lucky to be alive, much less walking around."

"I'm not going to spend the rest of the war on my back Doc." He sighs and helps me up. I can't walk too fast, but I manage to get out of the medical barracks. There are a couple of my fellow prisoners wandering around.

"How'd you end up here Doc?"

"The Krauts overran the line and stormed the medical camp I worked at. When they found out I was a surgeon, they decided to send me to this camp to treat our wounded."

"Rather generous of them to have a GI take care of other GI's."

"They don't want to waste the time of German doctors to treat us. They also aren't the most generous with medical supplies. I was lucky to get enough to save you Sir."

"Comforting thought."

One of the men notices us standing here and he comes up. He is a taller man with black hair and the swagger of a guy who hasn't let being taken prisoner dampen his spirit.

"You must be the Major." He says to me.

"I am. And you are?"

"Sergeant Don Flack of Delta Company." He salutes me and I return the salute with my good arm.

"Nasty scrapes you have Major."

"Good observation Sergeant. Damn mortar hit my position."

"Sorry to hear that Sir. They got my unit at night. Bastards snuck up on us while we were sleeping. If I'd been awake, I'd have killed every one of them."

"Glad to hear you still have some fight in you Sergeant. Just don't do anything that gets us killed."

"No problem Sir."

Flack joins the Doc and me as I make my way around the camp. I try to remember the names of some of the people I meet: Weems, Grant, two Smith's, Wesley, Ross, a couple of Jones's, a Davis. Most of them are either pissed that they got caught or relieved that they have lived this long.

"Where are we anyways?" I ask Flack.

He shrugs his shoulders "I have no idea Sir. Only thing I know is that there is a town less than a click away."

"How do you know that?"

"Because one of the women from the town comes by to bring food and the like every once and a while."

"A collaborator?"

"I guess so, or a resistance member."

"I'd like to meet her."

Flack smiles "been a while since you've seen a woman Major?"

"She might be our way out of this dump Sergeant." I reply seriously.

"Well, you're in luck Sir, she's here now."

I follow Flack as he leads me closer to the entrance. Meeting with the Commandant is one of the prettiest women I've ever seen. She has long curly hair and beautiful. I can tell she's not fully Italian and there is also a trace of…Greek? I'm not sure.

"What's her name?" I ask, still struck by her beauty and grace.

"Don't know Major, why don't you ask her?"

"I don't speak Italian."

"No problem, she speaks English."

"Smart and beautiful." I say to myself, but my two companions smile anyways.

We come up to near the entrance of the Commandant's headquarters. The woman inside comes out and meets me in the eyes. She seems surprised to see me. I catch her eyes looking me over. I must look like hell; I have no shirt to cover up the nasty cuts and bruises on my chest, not to mention my arm in a sling.

"Who is this?" She asks me with little trace of an accent. Her English is perfect.

"Major Taylor." I say to her, not really concerned about her knowing my name.

"You seem a little young for a Major. You have a first name Major Taylor?"

"Mac." I find it hard to not answer her questions.

"Nice name. Mac. I like it."

"How about you? You have a name?" I ask nervously.

Her smile makes me feel weak.

"Stella Bonasera at your service Major Mac." She gives a mock salute. "I'd love to stay and chat Major, but I must be going. See you around." With that, she heads out of the camp, leaving me speechless in her wake.

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