Alright then... when you've finished, I would really appreciate a review. It doesn't take much. And, if anyone has any suggestions or queries, the review section is a good place to submit/ask anything. Thanks people, and enjoy!

The girl was lying with her stomach on the road. Her face was turned slightly to the left. Her eyes were closed.

Uncertainly, the man's boot lightly prodded her ribs. He couldn't fathom the reason why she was surrounded by a pool of blood. There were no gun or knife wounds that could be seen, nor any blood around or in her mouth.

The man pushed harder with his boot and she rolled over. Her jaw hung open. She had good teeth. There was a large purpling bruise above her right eyebrow. Her eyelids were half-closed, and the man could see blue eyes shadowed by dark blonde lashes. She had a thick, long plait that had been trapped beneath her and now lay like rope across her chest. It was a dirty blonde colour. Strands of hair were caught in her eyelashes and the corner of her mouth.

The man turned his attention to her body. From her skinny form, slim face and child-like breasts he guessed her age at around twelve. She was in fact older.

Laying down his gun, the man reached down and laid his fingers on the girl's cheek. She looked peaceful.

Then two things happened in such a short space of time it was almost like they had been practised.

The girl opened her eyes.

And Donny Donowitz yelled in fright.

Later, he would say that it was a battle-cry, or something of the sort. But in that second, Donny was terrified. All the tales of faeries and witches, told to him by a malicious older brother, came back in a flash. And then the girl coughed and rolled over. And Donny was himself again.

He picked up his gun and aimed it at the girl.

'What the fuck are you doing?' he shouted at her. The girl's head flicked up, and she pushed herself away from Donny, scrambling over the dusty ground, her fingers clutching at dirt.

'What the fuck are you fucking doing?' Donny shouted again.

'Non! Je ne comprends pas ce que vous dites! S'il vous plaît!' The girl cried out, tears spilling uncontrollably down her cheeks.

'What the fuck are you saying?' Donny's voice was still loud. The girl fumbled her words, attempting to speak in English.

'Monsieur, I cannot understand… you speak… S'il vous plaît! Français!' She was still moving backwards, pursued by Donny who hadn't moved the aim of his gun from her face.

The girl stopped moving when her back hit something. She turned her face and then jumped up away from the dead body that lay, face up, on the road. There was congealed blood around the man's eyes, nose and lips. His skin was yellowing.

Donny took the girl by the shoulders and shook her.

'You were fucking dead! Why the fuck were you lying in the fucking road?'

The girl let loose another bubbling stream of French.

'For fuck's sake, Donny. Put the fucking girl down. She doesn't know what you're saying,' Utivich said, coming up behind him. Donny dropped the girl, and she fell to her knees.

'She was lying in the fucking road, dead. Then I poked her and she fucking jumped up and started screaming in French! What the fuck was I supposed to do?' Donny demanded, still a little shaken.

'How about not yelling at her? We're in France, moron. People speak French here,' Utivich replied with a smirk.

'So what do we do with her? Just tell her to fuck off? Should we take her to the 'tenant?'

'Aldo'd probably shoot her. We should just let her go,' Utivich said calmly, then continued on a slightly depressing note, 'She'll probably die anyway. It looks like she escaped some sort of a Nazi attack.' Utivich and Donny surveyed their surroundings. Seventeen bodies lay strewn across the road and there were several more in the forest that ran either side of it.

'If she's a Jew, shouldn't we protect her? Killing Nazis, protecting Jews – it's the same thing,' Donny asked, casting a scrutinizing glance over the girl at his feet. She was staring at the bodies that lay on the ground. Suddenly she screamed and ran to one of the bodies.

'Papa! Non! Papa! Réveillez-vous! Non!' The girl dropped to her knees by the side of a man who looked to be in his mid forties. He had four bullet wounds in his chest and his skin was pale and grey. He had been dead for fifteen hours.

Donny and Utivich ran after the girl, and pulled her off the man's body.

'Lâchez-moi! Papa! Papa!' The girl yelled, struggling fruitlessly against Donny's bear-like arms. Donny carried her across the road and threw her down there. She tried to run to her father's body again, but Donny grabbed her and pulled her back.

The girl looked up at him with anger and fright in her eyes.

'Salaud! Permettez-moi de voir mon papa! Maintenant! Je vais te tuer!' Donny crouched down in front of her.

'You know, I got no idea what the fuck you're on about,' he said calmly, smirking at her. The girl spat at him, then fled into the forest. Donny took two steps after her, then turned around.

'Stiglitz still patrolling?' Donny asked.

Utivich nodded and said, 'He'll find her.'

Léa ran through the trees, tears wet on her cheeks, her hair sticking to her face. Her legs burned at the effort of running. She tripped over a log and cut her arms on the bark. She pulled herself up, using a tree for help and realised that one her shoes had come off. Léa wiped the tears from her face and stooped to pick up her shoe. Then she heard a twig crack behind her. Slowly, Léa turned and looked round. She could see the shadow of a man, hazy in the sunlight poking through the trees. Tall, square-shouldered, armed.

Léa ran fast, her terror giving her wings. A twig scratched her face and she felt warm blood trickling down her cheek.

She could feel thorns under her bare foot and kept hitting her elbows and knees on branches. Keeping the same speed, Léa turned to look behind her; she couldn't see the man any longer. Not looking where she was going, Léa ran straight into the back of someone.

She looked up, terrified. The man turned round. It was the same broad-shouldered man from before. He looked like he had come straight from a Nazi propaganda poster; blue eyes, blond hair, square jaw. The man was wearing a green Nazi jacket, and a beige shirt, and he had the largest gun Léa had ever seen. Léa took two steps back.

'Was machst du?' The man's voice was smooth and yet rough at the same time, deep and not unpleasant to listen to. He was German.

Léa didn't understand what he said. She took another step back.

'Please,' she said in French. 'Don't kill me.' The man frowned. Switched to English.

'What are you doing?' he asked again. Léa shook her head, eyes wide. Then she ran.

01-09-10, I just changed Aurélie's name to Léa. Sorry if this causes confusion, but it had to be done.