And I'm back. Sorry for the long wait!


I backed away from the door just seconds before it was shoved open from the outside.

Then, Robert E. Hogan was standing in front of me, his expression grim and determined.

"Fräulein," he nodded, unsmiling.

I stared up at him apprehensively, afraid of what might be about to happen. Oh Gods no, they thought I was with the bad guys.

Hogan adjusted the gun in his right hand and I flinched, staring at it wide eyed. Behind him, Newkirk shifted uncomfortably but neither he nor Carter said anything.

"I'll save myself the introduction as it seems you're already quite well informed."

"I- I need to explain-" I stammered, but he cut me off.

"No time for that. I'm afraid you'll have to come with us now."

He grabbed hold of my arm before I could protest. As he was pulling me down the deserted hallways, past the felled Gestapo men, my thoughts were tumbling all around my head, frenzied and chaotic. I didn't know whether to be glad they were getting out of here, or afraid of what would happen if I couldn't convince them I was no enemy. The thought made me want to cry.

No! These were the Heroes, goddamnit. They weren't supposed to be scary!

We were nearing the exit of the building when I finally got my bearing back enough to make another attempt at talking.

"Please, I really-"

"Quiet," he shot me a warning look, raising the gun so I was aimed in the general direction of my stomach, "We're gonna make for the woods. If you alert them to our presence, don't think you won't end up getting shot by either them or us."

I swallowed back tears once more, shuddering. This wasn't how I had imagined meeting Colonel Hogan would go. I risked a glance around me, back at Newkirk, but both he and Carter were uncomfortably avoiding my gaze, seemingly busy with scouting the area. My stomach sunk even further, turning into knots.

I barely suppressed a gasp when my arm was pulled again, stumbling after Hogan, out of the building and forward. Before long we were running through the woods, away from the Gestapo. The underbrush was scratching my bar feet and legs, but I barely feet the pain, numb with dread once again.

Xxx

"Why did you even bring her here?"

"We couldn't just leave her there could we? Plus, she knew things about us. We need to find out how much and how she knows."

"Then someone go in there and ask her!"

Though I had my face hidden against my knees, my legs curled up against my body for warmth as much as comfort, I could hear them arguing clearly. There were no doors in the tunnels, but I had known that.

The 'holding cell' they put me in after arriving back under the camp with nothing more than the end of a short tunnel that probably wasn't finished yet. Not that I would be able to run away if I had planned to -they were standing and arguing right in front of the tunnel entry.

None of them were keeping their voices down. Either they didn't care if I heard them or they assumed I didn't speak English well enough to understand them. The latter wasn't unlikely, as I had said next to nothing after Hogan had ordered me to keep quiet, and I was still quiet now.

"Who's to say she won't just lie? If she's an agent, she's trained to, you know that."

"Well, what are we supposed to do with her then?"

Heavy silence.

The dread in my stomach hadn't vanished yet. I hated it, but I was still afraid, almost as afraid as I had been in the Gestapo head quarters. I didn't know what they were going to do to me if they got in their heads that I was an enemy. Their silence now was deafening. It let me guess at what they usually did with people who knew too much about the operation.

My fingernails dug into my kneecaps in distress. I didn't, couldn't, think that they would kill me -even if this was more realistic than the TV show. But...even if they 'just' sent me to England...how the hell would I ever get home once I was stuck in a British jail in the forties?

No, I couldn't let that happen!

But I also couldn't do anything else, could I? How would I convince them that I wasn't a spy? By telling them the truth?Who would even believe that?

The tears I had held back until now threatened to spill over my cheeks then and I pressed my face harder against my knees so they wouldn't hear my sob.

I was fucked and I knew it. My only hope at rescue was turning out to be just the opposite and I was all out of options.

Unlike them.

"Oh, bloody 'ell, I'll do it!"

The voice and then the sudden sound of heavy boots nearing made my head snap up and I shrank back against the cold wall instinctively. Moments later Peter Newkirk emerged from the shadows, his face still blacked and thus indiscernible.

I stared up at him without blinking, my fingers gripping my legs so tightly the knuckles turned white.


Aaand...I'm at a loss. What do you think should happen now? How will the Heroes approach this? What would be logical/in character? Should Elsa tell them the truth?

I'll try to hurry with the next one. Thanks for reading!