"To the planes," shouted someone. "Go!"

Alexander ran as fast as he could until he reached the planes. All of them exactly the same, and only outlines in the dark of night. He found his plane, the Annelise, and looked around frantically. Why were they going up? Who was there?

"It's the British," shouted Henri, running over. "And the Americans! They're flying overhead!"

Alexander nodded, fire burning inside him. Night missions. He was good at these.

Their commander walked up to them. His name was Artur. He had a harsh face, blonde hair, and brown eyes. He only said five words.

"Your mission is to kill."

Alexander nodded, saluting with the other men. He forgot about everything in his life except the order. He didn't stop to think about if it was wrong. He just obeyed.

He climbed into the cockpit and started the plane. The roar of all the engines filled the air as all the planes took off. Alexander felt the same thrill he always did when he went into the sky. Everything around him was dark.

Suddenly, out of the clouds, an American plane flew at him. It was met with heavy fire, but it disappeared. Alexander looked around. How could it disappear so fast? His guns would have no effect if he couldn't see what he was supposed to be shooting at!

Three more planes appeared, surrounding Alexander and five other German planes. Alexander opened fire, shooting down one plane, one he recognized as British. One of the others went down flaming.

He followed the lead of the other planes by following them up. When the German planes were above the Allied ones, they waited for a moment, just long enough to confuse the Allies. Then, they dived down, firing at the off-guard planes.

Alexander watched as a German plane fell to the ground. Then another. He fired at the American plane that was destroying them. Whoever this pilot is, he must be pleased with himself, Alexander thought spitefully as the plane evaded him.

Then, the Americans disappeared again. Were they copying the German strategy of flying up? Alexander flew up again, and saw nothing but dark grey clouds. Everything was eerily quiet. He didn't let his guard down.

Alexander was about to fly down again when a flash of orange flew past his eye, just avoiding the plane. He turned around as fast as he could and fired, hitting the wing of an American plane. It still fired at him until it was taken down from behind by two Germans.

It was beginning to be a bloody battle. Alexander chased after one American plane that would not give up. This pilot was good, whoever he was. They fired at each other for ages until the plane disappeared. I hate it when they do that!

Alexander regrouped with the rest of the Germans. A plane appeared out of the dark and came straight for the group. Alexander shot it down without thinking.

The night dragged on until Alexander was firing at a British plane. He didn't realize the British plane wasn't firing at him, but what was behind him. Alexander turned around just in time to see Henri's plane fall out of the sky.

"Henri!" The scream was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Alexander turned and fired at the British pilot. Out of the clouds came more Allied planes until Alexander was surrounded. He couldn't fight them all at one.

He dove down, desperately avoiding the Allies. I will not surrender!

The Germans retaliated by attacking from above. The Allies tried to escape, but at least three planes went down.

Alexander was trapped underneath two Allied planes. They couldn't see him, but he was watching them.

He flew behind the planes, then he went up, so he was even with them. He followed them for about a minute, before opening fire, destroying the unsuspecting planes. They didn't even have a chance to fight back.

Suddenly, the tide changed, and he was the one being fired at. It was the same American plane from earlier. He avoided the endless stream of attacks, trying to stay calm.

The American plane appeared in front of him, and opened fire. Alexander flew up, but not before the underside of his plane was hit. It wasn't enough to send him crashing into the ground, but it put him off-balance.

Don't panic. He still managed to fly steadily. He tired to take down the American plane, but it wouldn't fall. He could just imagine the laughter of some young, arrogant, America pilot from the cockpit, laughing at him as he struggled.

Alexander looked around desperately for help. He didn't see any other German planes. He was against three Allied planes alone.

As he was about to open fire, he saw ten more Allied planes appear out of the clouds. They appeared to be fleeing. After them came the entire German fleet, firing. The Allies were retreating.

Alexander cheered, flying back to the ground. The rest of the German planes flew with him, and as soon as they landed, people climbed out of their cockpits. No one was cheering out loud, but they were all relieved to be alive. Alexander didn't talk to anyone before looking for Henri.

"Henri," he called. "Henri!"

He looked though the soldiers around him. There was no Georg or Victor. He scanned the horizon for smoke and fire. He saw a plume of orange-tinted smoke. "Henri," he screamed. He began to run across the field, but he was held back.

"Alexander, stop!" That was Peter's voice. "Alexander!"

Alexander threw him off, knowing that he would get in trouble for this action. He sprinted across the field to the smoking plane. When he reached it, he dove through the remains, looking for a body. 'Henri!"

He felt a hand. Alexander looked down and saw Henri's face. He yanked his friend out of the plane. He hoisted his friend over his shoulders, and ran a good distance away from the rubble.

When he was halfway between the plane and the Germans, he heard an explosion behind him. Henri's plane. He kept going until he reached the other side of the field.

"He's still breathing," were the last words Alexander said before he collapsed.