Shrieks burst out from across the medical bay. Watford turned in time to see a Nazi ram his bayonet through Mayday’s chest and kick her to the floor. Slapping in a fresh clip, she took to a knee, took aim, and fired three times. The German soldier dived behind wreckage for cover, but she surged forward, keeping her head low, and took shelter behind an upended bed. A grenade came sailing through the air and landed where she had been seconds ago. It detonated as she flattened herself. More cries moaned out from patients still on the ground, tangled in blankets and toppled cots.
Watford pushed herself up and aimed. The Nazi dashed between the beds. Three shots went wide, but one struck him in the waist, slamming him into the wall. Surprisingly calm, given the shock of the blast, she darted a
