Prologue

It was a cold and foggy spring day in northern France. A lone Kubelwagen traveled down a road through a thick French forest with not a sound to be heard other than the noise of the car and the four men inside it. The four men were grenadiers of the Wehrmacht, and they were having nice small talk with each other as they were heading back to their posts in an occupied village not far from where their current location was at.

"Those girls back there were quite beautiful, weren't they?" One of the Wehrmacht said to his companions with a lit cigarette held between his fingers as he left his right arm dangling out the passenger side.

"Jawohl." The driver chuckled. "French women are just as good as their cuisine if you ask me."

"You have that right, my friend! It's a shame they don't like us in their land, though..."

"Well, it's their fault for declaring war on The Fatherland." One of the Grenadiers sitting in the back added to the conversation. "That and what they did to us thirty years ago..." He growled. His comrades immediately knew what he was referring to. They were all raised in the harsh conditions of Post-World War I Germany, and they resented all the countries that put their homeland through it.

"Agreed, mein freund." The Grenadiers didn't say anything else after that. Their mood was put off after being reminded of their rough upbringings in Weimar Germany. A minute more of driving down this lonely road passed when they came across an Opel Blitz crashed into a tree along the road. It's headlights were off, and it had canvas covering the back. There were no signs of anyone there as they couldn't tell if their was someone in the back or even if there was a driver behind the windshield with all this fog.

"Hey, look there." The Grenadier with the cigarette pointed at the utility truck. "Pull over, let's see what's up." The driver did as asked, and the men dismounted with their weapons slung over their backs. The four of them stood by the Kubelwagen.

"Hello, kameraden!" The one with the cigarette called out. "Is there something wrong?" There was no response. Just silence in the eerie fog of the forest.

"Has your engine any trouble?" Another one called out. They waited for a response, and there was nothing again.

"I do not like this..." The fourth Grenadier said under his breath, ready to bring his rifle to bear. "What if this is the resistance?"

"Do not be foolish." The one who was driving the Kubelwagen said. "The resistance has no presence in this region. Maybe it's some dummkopf who got drunk off his ass and passed out while on the road." The four grenadiers laughed together at that silly claim, as after all, that may very well be the case.

"Ah, come on. Let's go wake this Schweinhund up." The cigarette smoker tapped on one of his compatriots to go while another went with them and the last one stayed by the Kubelwagen. After casually walking up to the truck with their weapons still holstered, the lead peaked through the glass of the Opel Blitz and saw their was a man in Wehrmacht uniform hunched over the steering wheel.

"Heh, looks like Hanz was right..." The cigarette smoker lightly chuckled to himself. He then tapped on the glass to wake the man up. "Hey! Wake up! There's a war going on, you know!" He kept tapping against the glass until he saw the man on the wheel slowly stir. "Wake up, kamerad." He couldn't fully see through the glass of the Opel Blitz on account of the fog and the windows being dusted a bit, but he could see the soldier struggling to open the door.

"God, how much did he drink?" Someone behind him asked.

"I don't know, but he's really fucked right now, that's for sure..." The cigarette smoker chuckled.

Then, he realized the voice wasn't that of one of his comrades. Slowly, he reached for his Walther P38. Upon reaching his pistol, a blur of motion happened when he instantly turned around to point it at whoever was behind him. However, the man had caught his arm and pushed his elbow upwards, breaking the grenadier's arm and letting him fall on his knees in pain as he held his broken arm. His pistol landed right in front of him, and he tried to reach for it if the man who attacked him hadn't kicked it away. Looking up at his attacker, he saw it was a man in a ski mask. Before the Smoker can say anything to the man, he was kneed up the jaw, his cigarette flying out of his mouth for the man to catch it. He grunted in agony before his attacker then stomped on his face, killing him instantly.

"C'est la vie..." The masked man said, taking the man's cigarette into his mouth and taking a huff. "Hmm... these German cigarettes aren't bad..." He then puffed out some smoke. "Not bad at all..."

"Oy, Spy?" An Australian accented man armed with a Lee-Enfield Mk. IV Sniper rifle asked from over the freshly killed grenadier he dispatched with his Kukri. All three of the other grenadiers were killed quietly. One had been brained by a young Yank with a bat, while the other was killed by having his neck easily snapped by a rather large Russian man. "What do we do with the bodies?"

"Hide them in the forest..." Spy said without looking back at Sniper. "That goes for the rest of you as well."

"Whatever you say, pal..." A young American with a Boston accent scoffed. He was armed with a Browning Auto-5 and a M1911 pistol as well as a baseball bat. He and another American dragged the bodies out into the woods with Sniper. This other American was the Engineer, and he was armed with a M1897 Trench Gun as well as a Colt SAA. While they were doing this, Spy got into the Opel Blitz and pushed Demoman to the passenger side.

"Nice work on being a drunken fool, you drunken fool..." Spy said casually to the Scotsman.

"Aye..." The black Scot drunked. He was armed with a Lee-Enfield that was capable of firing rifle grenades and had several Mills Bombs among other grenades/explosives on him.

After disposing of the bodies and the Kubelwagen where they got rid of the previous occupants of the Opel Blitz, all seven members of this special operations group loaded into the Opel Blitz, and made their way down towards where the grenadiers were originally headed. Only reason why the truck was like this was because Demoman was allowed to drive for some reason, and he was lucky that the men could see the headlights of the Kubelwagen come up for them to take the time and hide.

So, what exactly was the mission of this special operations group? Well, the answer is quite simple. Their goal is to simply cause as much damage as humanly and physically possible behind enemy lines. It didn't matter how they do it so long as it diverts vital Nazi resources away from where they are needed at the frontlines.

Now, how did this group come about and who are it's members? This group was a special commission consisting of volunteers told to do exactly as stated above. They do not have the precision of Commandos or actual special forces units, but that's why they're used solely for causing damage instead of attacking specific targets. They may be volunteers, but it's promised to them that they will be rewarded greatly should they make it to the end of the war. It didn't matter if only eight men volunteered and they were told chances of survival were low, they wanted to fight for their respective countries, and money...

As for the members who go by code names (admittedly not very good ones), the group consists of two American soldiers, Scout and Engineer. Scout was a Ranger who gladly volunteered when he heard their were little to no restrictions on what he can do out here, and Engineer was from the, well, engineering divisions. He volunteered partly because this team needed someone who knows how to work machinery and weaponry, but he was largely here for cracking some skulls as well.

There was also a third American, though he was not a soldier despite him being called "Soldier". He was armed with a M18 Recoilless Rifle and a M1897. This man was an overly patriotic maniac who was denied by all branches of the army. Still, this did not deter him from serving his country so he stowed away to Europe where he was quickly and easily detained by military authorities in England. He was lucky that he was allowed to join this group instead of being sent back to America, but it wasn't like this group was something that the whole army knew about.

That's something to be mentioned there, that this group is actually secret. The only people who know of their existence was the mysterious officer that commissioned them, and a few others.

Anyways, there was also a Russian in this group. You see, he's actually an immigrant to the United States after the fall of Tsar post-World War I, but he is still very much Russian. He was a beast of a man, with his large size and immense strength, bearing the name "Heavy". His strength allows him to do the absolutely ludicrous and wield a M2HB Browning .50 cal with considerable skill. Heavy's secondary weapon was a Browning Auto-5, and his reason for being here is quite simple. He really does not like Nazis. After hearing of them over the radio, he felt that Hitler sounded too much like the dictator that rules Russia, now called the Soviet Union. In his own words, "Heavy does not like evil men. I will destroy evil men."

A single Australian was part of this group as well, you saw him earlier and know him to be the "Sniper", and there couldn't be a name better than that to describe him. He happened to be in the British Isles at the outbreak of war, and he decided to do his duty for King and Country by joining the British Army. He was a master marksman, rarely missing a shot with his trusty Enfield and even with his Sten gun.

Then we have Spy. He's a member of Charles' de Gaulle's Free French Forces, and he was a specialist in stealth operations. He was armed fairly lightly, as he only had a silenced Sten gun and Welrod pistol as well as a MAS 1873 Revolver. The Sten and Welrod were silenced weapons, while the MAS was in case his Welrod wasn't working out when things went loud.

The last member's Demoman, a literally black Scotsman. As in he's a black guy. Despite the strangeness of him being a Scottish black person, he's still quite loyal to the Allied cause. Admittedly, he does have a big problem, and that's the Scottish stereotype of being heavy drinkers which he takes to an eleven on a scale of one to ten. This, and his insane love for explosives. Only reason why he didn't get a position with the Sappers was because they were certain he would blow through the entire British Army's worth of bombs in a a single day.

And these men, these are the men who compose this secret special operations groups. Code named "Team Fortress."

Now, let's see what the future hold for this crew of misfits.

Hello there. This is just something I thought I'd try out.

Originally, this was going to be labeled as a Company of Heroes X Team Fortress 2 crossover, but I wasn't sure if anyone would see it so I put it in regular.

I hope you enjoy this.