Clay’s mission wasn’t to take out the sniper, only to distract him while Lombardi’s force stormed the building. But at the door, a sandbag “soldier” had swung down, and McKillop was struggling to bayonet the thing out of the way.

The sniper turned his rifle in Clay’s direction.

No time. Clay swung his rifle butt up under the sniper’s rifle, making the man fling up his arms.

Clay slammed his rifle across the man’s chest, then grabbed the man’s upraised arm and twisted it down around the rifle.

The man cried out and folded down to the ground to release the pain in his shoulder.

Gene hopped through the window. “Well done, Pax.”

Holman, Rubenstein, and Lombardi burst into the room, while McKillop shook his bayonet free from the sandbag.

“Dirty fighting.” Lombardi broke into a grin. “Nice work.”

“Thanks, Sergeant.” Clay released the sniper’s arm and helped him to standing.

The soldier rubbed his shoulder and glared at Clay. “Yeah. Real nice.”

“Next objective.” Lombardi motioned them out of the Biergarten.

“Sorry.” Clay gave the sniper an apologetic look and followed his sergeant. He was sorry the man was in pain, but not sorry he’d used the move.

Ever since he’d fought off Leah’s attacker, his philosophy had shifted.

When Leah’s life was at stake, the rules of sportsmanship hadn’t applied, and they wouldn’t apply on the battlefield either. In combat, all that mattered would be his unit’s objective and his buddies’ lives.

If he wanted to fight well in combat, in training he needed to practice every technique at his disposal.

Clay ran with his squad, low and fast, hugging the buildings. When they passed the giant oak, the second squad fell in behind Clay’s.

After he’d helped Leah, Lieutenant Taylor and Sergeant Lombardi had stopped making noise about transferring him. But he had to continue to prove himself. The praise lavished on him for that rescue had an expiration date.

The town hall stood at the end of the street. To its right, a trio of Rangers tossed charges into a shed meant to be an enemy outpost.

The building exploded, and a man screamed and fell to the ground.

Lombardi passed the man by.

Clay dropped to his knees beside the wounded man. “What happened?”

He could only scream. His hand was blackened and bloodied, and he might have lost a finger. He must have held on to the charge too long.

“Hold still.” Clay opened the pouch on his cartridge belt that held his first aid kit. “Let’s get this ban—”

“Paxton!” Lombardi dropped back and glowered at Clay. “Leave him. Get your tail in motion.”

“Rangers don’t leave men behind.”

“The Rangers won’t, but you will. Leave him for the medics.” A sarcastic smile split his dirtied face. “Unless you’d rather be a medic.”