NOTES:
In this version, the crew retains their memories from the holodeck. I thought that would be more fun and more complicated to sort out afterwards :-)
My historical knowledge of WWII and the situation in France is a little limited, but I tried to make it as believable as I could.
Sure, it seems unlikely they'd send Miller to St. Claire... but what the heck, I wanted them to be together ;-)
I realize the plot could be more elaborate, but somehow I couldn't wait to finish it ;-)
Silence before the Storm
They had 2 days. Katrine sketched a quick plan in her head. Yesterday they had informed the Americans, and now they would send someone to bring more information and probably to make sure everything went according to their plans. Katrine huffed slightly, these Americans need to have a hand in everything, she thought to herself. She had sat down with a glass of wine and looked around at her comrades in arms. Luc was going over the maps, scrutinizing it with his piercing eyes to check for anything he had missed; or maybe to memorize every line of it again. He was always very precise. She was glad he was by her side, he could be trusted.
She wasn't so sure about Sylvie. Like she had mentioned the day before, they needed her. But what if their little bird exploited that? Katrine narrowed her eyes. She was beautiful and very blond. The Germans loved that – but then again, Sylvie was cold, and that she was to everyone. Katrine had trusted her because she was serious and to the point. I'd probably trust her less if she was overtly flirtatious all the time. But she would be prepared. Being the leader of the resistance also meant being suspicious enough to be reasonably safe.
After she had watched Sylvie retreat to her room, her eyes swayed to Brigitte. She was not as solemn and precise as the others; no, she had it in her heart. She was a fierce fighter, and she had even given up her body for their cause. Her "special friend" at Nazi headquarters had inadvertently helped them more than once, and today he had again. But Brigitte alone had to carry the mark of that help and was despised for her "collaboration" by many people. It looked as if she meant to pay them back twice for her dishonour. Somehow, that was a dire concern of hers, she wanted to regain the good opinion of everyone in the town just as much as she wanted the father of her unwanted child to pay.
Luc stood watch at the window. His calm voice penetrated the silence they had been sitting in all evening. "Someone is approaching." They were alert at once. Brigitte covered up her notes, Luc's hand went inside his vest and Katrine made sure her pistol was within her range behind the bar.
A knock. Luc spoke quietly. "Who's there?"
"I'm Captain Miller, I'm from the Americans!"
Luc looked at Katrine, who had stepped in front of the bar, loading the pistol.
"Let him in."
Miller slipped through the open door. Luc immediately closed it again and continued to survey the streets, but not without looking back at the intruder from time to time. Brigitte looked wary. Katrine took over. Aiming her pistol at Miller, she quickly stepped towards him.
"Whoa, trust me, I am who I say I am."
"We'll see."
She quickly found his weapon and took it, glanced at his bag, then searched his face.
"Captain, eh? We have been expecting someone, but certainly not a Captain." There was something about his eyes she couldn't quite grasp. He looked... familiar. She discarded that thought and looked him up and down. He wore civilian clothing, but somehow, she thought, he looked like a soldier. Like a leader that cared about his comrades.
Katrine cracked a smile. "Welcome to La Coeur de Lion, Monsieur. Here to make sure we do our job?" He let out a breath, then smiled. Dimples showed on his cheeks. "Well it looks like you've got everything under control. I bring news from High Command and my troops. We believed it was better to send someone in person with more detailed knowledge."
Luc raised an eyebrow. "And I suppose you risked coming yourself to make sure we get the information directly from you?"
Katrine had put the pistol on the bar again. "How thoughtful of you. We feel honoured." She pulled a crooked and slightly sarcastic smile. "I'm Katrine, this is Brigitte, Luc" she pointed at the others. "Well Captain, let's hear it." She cleared some space on the table.
He had taken her in completely the second he stepped inside her bar. A small and slender woman, but with a determination in her steely glance that matched that of his best soldiers. She wore a skirt and blouse that hugged her figure nicely. Not for a moment though did he forget who she was. She was a leader, like himself – but she was a beautiful woman at the same time, and that was hard to ignore. He opened his bag and pulled out a stack of paper; maps, notes all ruffled and stained. Katrine took a look over the things he spread on the table and grabbed a map. "This is more accurate than our latest reports. Ours are mostly old news after a day." She said as she surveyed it carefully.
"Yes, this is the current position of our troops." He pointed at the map. "We'll be coming in from the north, but there's been an addition to our plans. We need to discuss this."
"Make yourself comfortable." She smiled and quickly fetched a bottle of wine, not the stuff she gave the Nazis, though, but one of her best. She called over Luc and Brigitte and poured wine for everyone. They raised them together. "To a successful mission."
They had talked late into the night. Luc and Brigitte had helped to work out the details but had both gone to bed at some point. Katrine and Miller were still debating. The plan was not simple. He not only needed the people from the resistance to destroy the radio transmitter. The Americans also wanted them to "dispose" of several crucial systems throughout the town, sabotage transportation and block several streets to block German reinforcements.
"Look, this is getting us nowhere. We just don't have enough people to do it all!" Katrine shook her head in frustration.
"I'm here, too, remember? I'm responsible for the street blockades. You and Mademoiselle de Neuf are going to blow up the transmitter. Luc can take care of some motorcycles. I don't see your problem." God she was stubborn. For a woman, especially.
"What about Brigitte!" she hissed. "Luc was supposed to cover the street and make sure we have a clear path. Now he'll be gone, and, I know what you're thinking, I am not sending her out there."
He put a hand on her arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, my men will be here, and she won't be alone."
His hand irritated her, but somehow it felt secure. And familiar again.
She looked up at him as he removed his hand.
"Captain..."
"Call me Charlie, will ya?"
"Alright, Charlie – have we met before?"
He liked how she pronounced his name, with the slightest indication of a soft french accent. He looked surprised though. "Not that I remember... Actually, I've never been to France before the war."
She seemed in thoughts, almost staring a hole in his head.
"Strange," she murmured, and then was silent. Just as she shook herself back to reality he slowly answered.
"I think I know what you mean." Now she looked surprised. He smiled. From somewhere in her belly, a jolt sent funny feelings through her body. She mentally reprimanded herself. This was no time to get distracted. Although she had to admit that his brown, compassionate eyes, his smile and his strong shoulders were almost enough to make her wish she'd met him under different circumstances. Almost. He'd probably prefer a submissive little housewife, and that was a thought that made him look less attractive immediately. He probably had one at home, waiting for him. Inadvertently she scanned his hands. No ring.
He opted for a change of topic. "It's late, Mademoiselle. We're tired. I think we have the basics, let's continue tomorrow."
She rubbed her temples, nodding. "Right. Let me show you where you can sleep."
They put all the notes and maps back in his bag, then Katrine led him up to the rooms on the gallery and opened a door invitingly. The room was small, but looked quaint and comfortable. Miller suddenly thought that France was a place he should come back to when this was all over. He bid Katrine goodnight. She turned to him once more before he closed the door behind him. "If you need anything, I'm next door." He nodded and smiled.
The wine had gone to his head a little. He made a mental note to be careful, it seemed he wasn't used to this like the French were. He grinned to himself. They were made out of sturdier stuff than he thought. He didn't just like them because they were his allies, but he also really thought they were people he would get along with. Fighting to defend and regain your home was something he could relate to, although he didn't quite know why. He didn't think of it as particularly heroic, he rather felt a great respect for them. Especially that woman. Lying in bed he stared at the stars outside his window. He needed sleep, and the wine made sure he would get it quickly. But he couldn't get her face out of his head.
