Chapter Twenty-Six

Spurned

Holland

September 1944

The dirt beneath Bill's boots was freshly plowed and soft, as welcoming as the people in the Dutch town. If every jump could be like that, he'd gladly leap into the sky any chance he'd get. And if European hospitality was anything like their reception in Eindhoven, then hell - what was there to be afraid of?

Snipers, apparently.

"Lip, clock's ticking," he said, tapping the man on the shoulder. Lipton was trying his best to scan the rooftops of the houses and churches that towered over the heads of the celebratory crowd. The men had dissolved into the throng after entering Eindhoven, swept up into the frenzy of a country liberated after four years of Nazi rule. Cigars and beer were passed from one hand to the other until it reached the grasp of a grateful trooper, and women were pushing forward to throw their arms around the necks of their saviors. The energy of the people was contagious, but Lip's binoculars kept Bill grounded in the firm fact that they had gotten lucky and taken the Germans by surprise.

Before he could protest, he was sandwiched between two women with orange ribbons in their hair. Their mouths were tacky with homemade lipstick against his cheeks and chin. "Alright ladies, alright – thanks , " he said, squirming out of their grasp. Babe and Johnny were also wrestling away from a group of smiling grannies, shooting him worrisome looks.

"What's up, Johnny?"

"Can't find anyone in my platoon," Johnny replied, scowling hard at a woman approaching him from the left. Babe had pink lipstick smeared on his chin.

"We've got to get to those bridges," Lip said, making his way into the crowd. Bill followed closely behind, pushing past people as kindly as he could manage. He didn't resent the Dutch for their happiness, but he did wish that they'd understand that the war wasn't over.

Slowly, slowly, the men started to push forward, but it became apparent that there was another obstacle in the way: a circle of people chanting a word over and over that Bill didn't recognize. Some of the locals were beginning to stare. The tone of crowd was not one of forgiveness, and it nearly overpowered the joyful singing of the national anthem that had erupted in the street.

The officers stood behind the circle of angry citizens, scowling as women were thrown into the circle fully clothed and dragged out shorn of their hair, their dresses and cardigans ripped from their shoulders. Nixon turned and grimaced at Compton and Welsh.

"What did they do?" Babe wondered aloud.

"They slept with the Germans," Lip muttered as he stopped next to Bill. "Heard it from a priest. Sounds like the whole town planned this a while ago."

A cheer rose up behind them and Bill watched as British Cromwells rolled into the melee. The people in the street parted as the tanks pushed forward at a glacial pace, and ladies of the town were hoisted up to plant kisses on the Englishmen sticking their heads out of the driver's hatches.

Babe jumped up on a cafe table for a better look. Bill strode forward to join him but was interrupted by a hand on his arm. "No thanks, sweetheart," he said preemptively, turning his cheek to dodge yet another kiss, but none came. He looked down at the hand gripping his arm, glanced up and locked eyes with Karolina Shütze.

She was blonde.

"Hello," she said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. She was definitely blonde, and her hair had been chopped short. He leaned away and reassessed the person before him. She was wearing a simple navy dress and a cream-colored cardigan, an orange ribbon pinned to her collar. Stockings and simple brown leather oxfords. A smear of red lipstick on her lips. Her cheeks aglow. It painted the picture of a nice girl, a girl who only kissed after the third date.

Her hand was still on his forearm, and she squeezed a little harder. "Bill?"

If the outfit had meant to disarm him, it had worked. He yanked his arm out of her grasp and took another step backwards, his head spinning. She stood there jostled by the crowd, staring back at him calmly. As if she didn't mind the singing and the yelling and the rumble of the tanks over the cobblestones or the fact that women were being scalped ten yards away for locking lips with her countrymen. As if she hadn't disappeared after he'd had his heart broken in a way he never thought it could.

His brain might have fogged up, but he had enough sense to grab her shoulders and press her to his racing heart.

"Bill," she said again, her voice muffled against his shoulder. "We need to get out of here."

"We're trying," he said, squeezing her tighter. "We're going to secure the bridges. Shit, I missed you."

"I missed you, too," she replied, trying to wiggle away. "But the Germans are going to beat us if we loiter."

If he let her go, she would dissolve into the crowd. "I'm coming with you," she said, as if reading his mind. He pulled away and gave her a searching look.

She sighed. "McMaster sent me to hook up with Easy. I have a change of clothes in the bag, better shoes. Mark Longshore is here somewhere, dressed as a civilian. We need to move."

His mind was still trying to process her arrival. "McMaster? Who?"

"My new CO," she said. "Germans are already moving towards the bridges. They were going that way an hour before you landed."

"Wait," he said, letting her go. "Hold on just a second here. Since when do you have a CO?"

"Funny story , " Lina replied with a quick smile, a brilliantine flash of teeth that Bill had never seen before. There was something hardened about that smile that unsettled him.

Babe weaved towards them, pushing away dancing townspeople. "The guys are moving, thank Christ, we can go ahead and -" Babe stopped short and stared at Bill's arm, then took a look at the woman under it. "Uh."

Lina squinted at Babe. "Who is this?" Babe opened his mouth to reply, but Lina waved a hand. "Never mind, no time," she said, stepping away from Bill's side. "Where are Lewis and Winters?"

Bill gestured wildly at the crowd. "Couldn't tell ya, we're all scrambled."

She groaned and placed her hand on his cheek. "I will try to find them. Keep moving." She gave him that same grin and slapped him on the shoulder before vanishing into the crowd.

Babe was staring at the spot where she stood. "Is that...?"

"You bet your ass it was," Bill said, shouldering his rifle. His heart was going a thousand miles an hour.

Babe blinked. "She's pretty."

Bill pushed the kid on the shoulder, forcing him forward. "She'd eat ya for breakfast."

She had simply walked up beside him and slipped her hand through the crook of his arm, and when Nixon jerked away from the blonde stranger, she had laughed. And that laugh caused every man in a four-foot radius to turn and stare.

When he saw her face, he had to fight the urge to grab her by the throat.

He watched her shadow on the barn wall as she changed out of her dress. Winters sat next to him, his back turned to give Lina some privacy, but Lew glared at the silhouette cast by the kerosene lamp.

He wanted to punch her, and he wanted to squeeze her until she couldn't breathe. The fact that she had strolled up to him as casual as ever infuriated him. The last time he had seen her she had been wearing a Nazi uniform. This is what I am. The woman on the streets of Eindhoven was someone else entirely. He was having a difficult time consolidating the two images in his mind.

Winters cleared his throat, visibly unsettled by the ringing silence. "Are you almost done?"

"Yes," she replied, and after a few minutes she stepped into the light. The dress and cardigan had been replaced by a set of fatigues. Olive fatigues.

Nixon blinked hard and bit the inside of his cheek. "Don't you dare tell me."

"Tell you what?" Lina said, dropping the bag on the hay-covered ground. She grabbed an old bucket and upturned it, fashioning a seat next to his bale of hay.

"You're wearing army fatigues."

"Yep," she said.

"Why?"

She pursed her lips and snapped open the bag, drawing out a piece of paper. She held it out to Winters, who took it and unfolded it carefully. Dick raised an eyebrow. "Oh."

Nixon was going to slap both of them. "For fuck's sake -"

Lina gave him a withering look. "I joined the army."

"The United States army?" Nixon said.

"Yes," she said sharply.

Winters leaned back. "She took the oath, Lew. It's valid, signed by Colonel McMaster."

He stared at Lina, who looked back at him evenly. "This can't be legal," he said. "How can you join another country's army when you're German? Or a traitor?"

"To the British Empire," Winters added.

She held up her hands. "I never meant to do anything traitorous."

Nixon asked God for strength. "So, you didn't mean to murder a British intelligence officer? That was just, what, an accident?"

Her eyes narrowed. "It was out of my control."

Nixon jumped up from his seat. "Fuck you," he spat at Lina, who leaned away. "Seriously, fuck you , goddammit. Everything's always under your control. You didn't need to kill him. You could have avoided him, kept your head down."

"So he could cut it off?" she replied, her voice mocking.

"Bet you couldn't help yourself."

Lina stood up, her face flushed, her finger pointed at Lew's nose. "You will never understand what happened to me there," she said, her eyes glittering. "You could never do what I did."

He scoffed and turned in a tight circle. "Oh, you're such a martyr. Don't act like it's a chore for you to kill people - you get off on it."

"Lewis," Winters said, rising from his seat. He looked at the warning in Dick's eyes and chose to ignore it.

Lina had gone still, her fists balled at her side. A little smile had wormed its way onto her face, one that didn't give Nixon any reassurance. "You're right." She folded her hands together and brought them under her chin. "I enjoyed it..."

She paused, then shook her head minutely. "I lived in a whorehouse. I watched the Germans execute FFI agents that Tar handed to them. I ran weapons underground, under the streets. And yes." She looked up at the two of them, her smile sardonic. "I killed Tar. I stabbed him in the throat, and I looked him in the eyes when I did it. I wanted him to choke on his own blood."

Lew's pithy reply withered away in his mouth, and Lina's smile widened.

"I told you," she said, her voice dangerously soft. "I told you before I left. I have to give in to it."

"No," Lew said, all anger gone. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. Her fatigues were still starchy, fresh from a factory in a land she had never seen. "That's not who you are."

Her body softened and she placed her hand on top of his. "Lewis," she said softly. "I am a thousand different people. And I enjoy pulling down enemies that threaten my friends."

"So how does this work?" Winters said, and Lina stepped away from Lew's reach. "You, coming back?"

She gave Winters a frank look. "I am under your command."

Winters didn't seem reassured. "Until when?"

"Until the war is over, or..." She slashed a finger under her jaw. "You know."

"What did they offer you?"

"Protection," she said. "I had to convince them to take me." She ran a hand through her short hair and sat back down on her bucket. "McMaster will send me requests, I will gather intel and report to him. I have to prove that I am an asset, and I can't kill any more intelligence personnel unless they give the order."

Lew raised an eyebrow. "I bet that nixed your trip to Berlin."

She twisted her mouth into a grimace. "It would have never worked; I can see that now. I am staying here."

"And you're staying with us?"

She stared up at Lew. "Until the end."

Lina had gone to see the Easy men first - she owed it to them, the men who had bled with her in foxholes and cried with her when Ella was lowered into the ground in Aldbourne. They were hard to find in the darkness; all the soldiers looked the same huddled against little fires and leaning against trees. She heard them before she saw them - Luz's voice carried on the wind and she approached them from the right, away from the firelight. She stood in the shadows and thought of that first morning in Aldbourne, and she stared at him and Malarkey as she stepped closer to the fire. No one looked up as she crept nearer, and she couldn't help the smile of satisfaction that spread across her face.

"George Luz," she said softly, and Luz froze. He lurched to his feet and peered at her through the darkness. She moved closer to the fire, and he threw his tin of coffee on the ground and lunged across the circle of men. She lowered her shoulder against the impact but he still knocked her off her feet.

Lina couldn't help it – the alarm bells went off in her head as she hit the ground. She kneed him in the stomach and he doubled over, gasping out a wheeze of surprise. She rolled on top of him and sat on his chest, her fists aimed at his face. Luz coughed and looked up at her, grinning widely. "I always... imagined it like this..."

She groaned and rose to her feet. "Not in a hundred years." Lina leaned down to offer her hand and he took it, staggered up and enveloped her in a tight hug.

"I thought Bill was lying," Malarkey said, pushing Luz's arms off of her. "Quit hogging her."

"Bill's not that creative," said Johnny Martin, walking over with an appraising look. "Like the blonde hair. Very Aryan."

She rolled her eyes. "I might ask Liebgott to shave it all off."

"No!" exclaimed Malarkey and Luz simultaneously. Johnny scoffed.

"Come on over here," said Bull, who hadn't moved from his seat. "Lemme get a good look at you."

She walked over to the fire and lowered herself down on an empty crate, and Bull smirked as he scanned her face. "Your cheekbones got their own cheekbones."

Lina shrugged. "Kind of hard to find a good baguette. Hard to find anything, really." She shot a look at the man sitting partially in the shadows who hadn't said a word. He had the face of a teenager and his eyes were trained on her, taking in everything.

"That's Babe," Bull said from behind his cigar. "He's shy."

Lina cocked her head - she recognized him from Eindhoven. "Babe," she said slowly, and the man stiffened. "I will never understand these nicknames."

Malarkey clamped a hand down on Babe's shoulder, startling him. "Don't know why he's clammed up," he said with a smirk. "Usually he never stops yapping."

Johnny sat down next to her and gave her a frank look. "So, was it bad?"

The jovial mood died instantly, and Malarkey and Luz scooted in closer. "It was bad," she replied. "But it's over."

"That's all that matters." Malarkey grabbed her knee and gave it a little shake. "You're still in one piece."

"And in the army," Johnny Martin said, and Luz raised his eyebrows. "How'd you manage that?"

Time for a change of subject. "Where are the other men?" she asked, standing up. "I can't stay here all night. Do you know where they are?"

"Yeah," Luz said, brushing the dirt off his pants. "I'll show you. Did you really have to get me all dirty?"

"Did you really have to tackle me?"

"Yes, I did," he said, patting her on the back. Malarkey fluttered his fingers goodbye as she walked away, and as soon as they thought she was out of earshot, they began to whisper feverishly. The man named Babe leaned away from the circle and watched her go, his expression unreadable.

She scoffed and Luz shook his head. "What did you expect?"

She frowned. "That one man said nothing."

"Oh, Babe?" Luz said, lighting a cigarette. "Nah, he's fine, maybe a little starstruck. He's the one replacement we actually like."

They walked across an open pasture, the moonlight casting the shadows of the branches in spangled waves on the tall grass. Luz gave her an appraising look. "Have you seen him yet?"

"Who?"

"You know who."

Her heart lurched in her chest. "No."

"I can show you where Dog is camped," he said casually. "If you want."

She gave him a piercing look. "Please, keep it to yourself."

Luz raised a hand. It was hard to see his expression in the darkness. "I am a vault of secrets when I want to be. I wouldn't tell a soul." He steered her to the left, towards the shadow of an abandoned barn. "Just a little jealous it's not me."

She shook her head but followed him towards the dingy building. The palms of her hands were tingling. She ignored the curious look Luz shot her way. Better to pretend nothing was wrong than admit to the nerves.

A small light shone out from the recesses of the dilapidated barn. "Pretty sure he's in there," Luz said. "At least I saw him go in there about an hour ago, when it was still light out."

Lina felt lightheaded. She reached down and gave Luz's hand a firm squeeze. "Thanks," she said weakly. He chuckled blackly and shook his head before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back towards Easy.

She placed her palm over her chest and willed her heartbeat to steady itself. At least it was still beating. Isn't that what they had agreed upon, that morning at the airstrip? That she should find a way to survive? Here she was in the flesh, frozen in place but still alive. Goosebumps flashed over her arms, and she hugged her chest and walked towards the entrance of the barn.

The field was quiet except for a few snores from sleeping men. There was no noise coming from inside the barn, but Lina knew that someone in there was sitting silently, waiting for her. She wondered if he had seen her on the streets of Eindhoven. He always knew where she had been before she had the chance to tell him.

She stopped at the cavernous doorway and peered inside. A row of abandoned stalls occupied the right wall and a fire flickered in the third stall down. She stepped into the ramshackle building and didn't bother to hide the sound of her footsteps. Whoever was in that stall deserved to know she was coming towards them, and she didn't want to be shot by some trigger-happy replacement just in case Luz had mistaken the man's identity.

She made it a few feet further before a figure stepped out from the stall into the aisle. She hugged her arms closer and walked forward until his profile took the shape of the man for whom she had kept herself alive.

She couldn't see his face - he was cast deeply in shadow, but his fatigues were bright from the golden light of the fire. She rubbed her arms with her hands and opened her mouth to say something, but no words came to mind. He stood still, frozen in place, and she tentatively reached out her hand and touched his sleeve.

He shuddered and let out a breath, his body melting into movement. She smiled, but he grasped her by the shoulders and pulled her into the light. When she looked up, his face was illuminated, incensed.

Lina shrank back instinctively and Ron released the grip on her arms. She pressed her back into the splintered stall boards and watched as he glowered at her, his hands shaking.

"I can't -" he began but stopped, turning his back to her. "You promised. You promised me."

"Ron," she said, but he refused to look at her.

"No," he said, whipping around, a shaky finger pointed in her direction. His face was hardened. "They came for your things in Aldbourne, they said that you committed treason. And I knew, Lina. I knew what you had done." He dropped his arm to his side, and his expression wavered into hurt. "You weren't supposed to go looking for him."

Her mouth was dry. "No, no ... I had to-"

"I don't believe you," he said, shaking his head. "I don't. You always do what you want, regardless of the consequences."

"Ron," she said, pressing her hands against the wood behind her. "He was giving up agents to the Gestapo. I had to -"

"You didn't have to do anything," he said sharply, and her breath caught in her throat. "You agreed to run if things got bad, and instead...and I..." He trailed off, rubbing his hand over his eyes. "Lew told me. About your letter."

Her heart sank to her knees. "I just wanted -"

"I thought you were dead. You were never going to tell me. You would have disappeared, left me behind..."

"Please," she said. "Please, let me explain."

He shook his head and clenched his jaw. "I can't do this anymore. It's too much."

Her legs were going out from under her, the blisters from the oxfords rubbing painfully against the toe of her boots. She sank down to the dirt floor and covered her face with her hands. She was not going to cry. She was not going to cry in front of him, but the tears had already escaped from under her palms. It wasn't supposed to happen like this. She tried to take a deep breath, but it faltered in her lungs and she exhaled shakily.

Ron had stopped pacing but she didn't dare look up at him. Instead, she rubbed her knuckles across her cheeks and stared at the lacings on her boots, wishing she could crawl back to the campfire where Bull and Luz were sharing coffee and talking shit. But she had to say something, if only to get Ron to understand, if only to explain before he threw her out of the barn.

"Look," she said. "I missed you so much, my chest hurt. I never thought I would feel for anyone like that, but I had these nightmares." She snuck a glance upward and saw that he was staring down at her in dismay. She squeezed her eyes shut. "I am so sorry. I did it for you. You told me that I was smart enough to run went things went bad. And I did. I ran through the tunnels... God, and the things down there-"

She was babbling. Her head felt hot to the touch. "He was trying to kill us. He was trying to kill me. And I had to find him, you understand? If he was loose... I don't know. I stabbed him, stabbed him in the throat. I lost control. I do not know how many times the knife went in. I had on a white shirt; it was soaked with his -"

"Stop," Ron said, stepping forward. But she couldn't stop.

"I took his clothes, and I set the building on fire. I did not think about what would happen next. He deserved it. But when he pointed the gun at my head, I only saw you. So stupid, reckless. I regret it all. I should have waited. I know I should have waited for you; I didn't think ..."

He came to a stop beside her, standing over her. She pressed her forehead to her knees.

"I did it for you," she said, exhausted. "They know about you. I couldn't let him go. I don't care if they have me. They have always wanted me; I have accepted it. But no one else. No more death ."

Lina wanted to crawl out of the barn and collapse in the soft grass. She grabbed on to the rotten planks on the wall and staggered to her feet. Ron was standing so close, but she stared at the straw on the floor, avoiding his gaze. She took a step towards him, but he grabbed her wrist.

"No," he said.

"Ron."

"You can't keep doing this to me," he said tightly.

"I won't-"

He shoved her hand away. "Your word isn't worth anything."

She looked up at him, met his gaze – he stared down at her with... dislike? No, something more personal. Disappointment?

A chill washed over her - she shouldn't have come here. She swallowed thickly as she took one step backwards. It was all crashing down between her and Ron: the deceit, the chaos, the wake of hurt she had left behind. The hurt that had driven him from her, made him turn on her. Your fault.

She forced her mind to shut down and drove the panic to a back corner – she could kill it later, with something strong enough to numb her heart and her body. Ron was still staring at her - she had to say something. "You... don't want-?"

He clenched his jaw and looked away. "No."

Get out.

Lina turned and walked out of the stall. She was determined to keep a steady pace as she left, and she wasn't going to allow him to watch her fall apart. Her cheeks were burning and her pulse was throbbing in her ears. He shifted behind her – maybe relaxing his rigid stance, maybe taking a step after her – and she tucked her hands into her pockets and walked down the aisle. She thought she heard him mumble something under his breath, but she couldn't risk looking back at his face.

She felt his eyes on her back as she walked through the moonlit field.

Luz had fallen asleep next to the fire, but Malarkey and the new man were still up and chatting, passing a bottle between them. She sat down heavy on the grass next to Malarkey's feet and looked at the brown glass shining in the firelight.

"What is that?"

Malarkey swished the liquor around. "Schnapps." He raised an eyebrow as she held out her hand. "Really?"

"I need it," she said, and he passed it her way. She took a long swig, then kept drinking until the pressure lifted off her lungs. After the conversation had died down, she took off her jacket and folded it into a pillow. She laid on the ground and watched the embers of the fire glow dull red in the dark.

Your fault.

Maybe so. Actually, yes – it was her fault.

Lina pressed her palm to her chest, even though she couldn't feel her hands. Was this what it was like to be dumped? This felt more extreme than anything she had seen girlfriends go through in Berlin. It was like someone had punched her in the lungs.

He doesn't want you anymore.

God, she needed Ella here. She would listen to Lina whine and tell her that she had been an idiot but that everything would be okay. Or maybe she wouldn't.

She glared into the dark. "Nothing changes." He had stalked her through France. She could return the favor. Make sure he was safe. Who else would?

"Who are you talking to?"

She looked up to find the new man sitting on the other side of the dead fire. "Myself," she replied.

He frowned. "Uh, okay..."

"Go to sleep."

He scoffed. "I can't sleep when you're talking."

"So, stop talking to me," she replied, sitting up.

He squinted at her. "Fine."

She cocked her head and sneered before sinking back down to the ground. " Fine ," she mimicked.

"Both of you," Malarkey mumbled behind her. Her nudged her head with the toe of his boot. "Shut up ."

When she finally fell asleep, she dreamed of the catacombs, and two pale arms reaching out of the darkness towards her, inviting her in.

The next morning, Lina found Nixon standing next to a British tank, drinking out of his flask and talking specs with the driver. She raised an eyebrow at his choice of beverage at seven in the morning, and he rolled his eyes as he screwed on the lid and stashed it in his jacket pocket.

"You, of all people, are not allowed to judge me for what I ingest."

She shrugged. "As long as you can shoot straight."

He looked her up and down. "Where did you go last night?"

She painted on an expression of stoicism. "I went to find the Easy men, naturally."

"You didn't come back," Lew said. "I had a blanket for you and everything."

"I thought you did not like me anymore."

"Oh, please," he said. "You still deserve a blanket."

"Sorry," she shrugged. "I camped out with Luz and Malarkey."

"Lucky men," Lewis said, giving her a searching look, and Lina smiled blandly, ignoring the mismatched beating of her heart. A throbbing headache was carving its way into her skull, and she felt like she was going to be sick, but she'd rather Lewis think that she was hungover than heartbroken.

Winters emerged from the other side of the tank, holding a folded map in his hand. "I've sent out Guarnere and Compton to round up the men." He checked his watch. "We need to be ready to move soon. The Brits are escorting us to Helmond."

"Which Brits?" she asked.

"Hussars," Lew replied. "May take a ride on one of these tanks."

She eyed the tank warily. "I will walk."

The hatch on top of the tank creaked open and the driver grimaced at Nixon. "If you will bloody well move, I could actually get us where we're supposed to go."

Lew held his hands in the air and stepped off to the side, the mechanical whirling and creaking of the tank's engine eliminating his testy reply.

"Which platoon?" she yelled over to Winters.

"Hook up with Compton," he said. "They're one man short."

It wasn't difficult to find Buck - his blonde head refracted the sunlight. She weaved her way through the crowd of men linking up with their prospective platoons and passed by Bill, who gave her a wink and a slap on the arm. "Hey, lieutenant," Bill called to Buck. "Hope it's okay if I bring my gal with us, she's awful clingy."

Buck shot a look over his shoulder, already exasperated, but when he caught sight of Lina he grinned. "They tell me you came back, and you don't even come to see me?" He slapped a hand over his chest and tried to stifle his smile. "You wound me."

"You were next on my list," she replied. "Winters told me you were short a man."

"Can always use a lady," Malarkey said, knocking into her side. "Nice to change things up a bit."

"You know, if you're in the army now, you have to call me 'sir'," Buck said with a wink.

She raised her chin. "No, sir." Bill giggled behind her.

"The disrespect," Buck said, shaking his head. "You're lucky I don't have time to write up a court martial."

Holland was very flat - that was the inane first impression Lina had while walking alongside the tanks. Its levelled horizon made it difficult to scope out what was ahead. She glanced up at the tanks - maybe she should have taken a ride after all.

"Got you something," Luz said beside her. They had been wading their way through the tall grass after he'd been kicked off a tank for being too rowdy. In his hand was a purple flower, plucked from the tall weeds scattered among the grass. She took it from his hand and put it into her pocket. "Don't crush it!"

The road widened slightly, and Lina stepped onto the gravel and waited for Luz to catch up. "Flowers last longer if you press them."

"But not if you smash them," he complained, falling into step with her. "Never got to ask you last night - why'd you join the Army?"

She smiled. "I did not have a lot of options after leaving Paris." He looked at her quizzically, and she shrugged. "It was time for a change."

"What did you do?"

She gave him a sideways look. "I stabbed a man to death."

George widened his eyes and pursed his lips. "Okay," he said after a moment of silence. "And the British didn't like that?"

"I did not stay to find out," she said. "But I imagine they are very angry."

"Look," Luz interrupted her, pointing ahead.

There was a bald figure in the road, holding a bundle. The woman twisted towards them and a small arm reached out of the cloth towards the sky.

" Oh, Gott, " Lina said.

"Hey, Shütze," Bull said above her, and she looked up in time to catch the ration box that he tossed at her. Bull nodded towards the woman, and Lina grimaced.

"I can do it, if you like," Luz offered, but she held the box out of his reach.

The woman was tall, thin, malnourished, and the baby was barely a newborn. She watched the soldiers approaching with a blank face, holding her child tightly to her chest. She had been pretty, before the townspeople had scalped her. Lina broke away from the convoy and the woman watched her carefully, a glint of surprise in her eye. Lina held out the box but the woman hesitated.

Lina nodded at the child. " How old?"

The woman's eyes narrowed, but she replied in near perfect German. " Almost twelve weeks."

The baby in question blinked at Lina and scowled. " Where are you going? "

The woman shrugged. " Nuenen , I suppose. I can't stay in Eindhoven."

"We're going to Nuenen , " Lina said. " Trying to find Germans."

" You're the only one I've seen," the woman said.

" Good luck," Lina replied, and the woman nodded silently, rocking her baby silently.

She jogged forward to catch up with the tanks and caught Johnny Martin's eye. He was still staring at the woman with an expression of pained disgust, shaking his head.

As they drew closer to the city limits of Nuenen, the leading tanks pulled abreast to one another on the road and the men scattered into the embankments on each side of the lane. Lina caught up with Luz and hovered behind the first tank as a man walked forward into the open road, unwinding the straps on his binoculars.

"Get a load of General Patton!" Hoobler shouted above her. She grabbed her rifle and nestled the scope against her eye.

"See anything?" Bill asked, sliding off the back of the tank.

"Other than that fool?" She nodded towards the lieutenant in the road. "Nothing." She scanned the red bricks of the church in front of them, trying to hear past the grinding of the tank engines.

"Lieutenant!" Bull shouted, and Lina watched the blood explode from the side of the man's throat before she heard the crack of the sniper's shot.

Sniper, someone shouted unhelpfully. Tree branches snapped, and a striped Tiger tank roared out from the woods on the left. The men scrambled off of the tanks as the guns rotated to follow the German's tank's progress, and Lina joined the men who dashed into the embankment beside the road. She slid and landed beside Malarkey, who was busy undoing the latches on his mortar.

The sniper's bullets blasted the dirt around the downed lieutenant, and the tank nearest to them fired at the retreating Tiger, rattling Lina's teeth. The second shot made contact, erupting the back end of the Tiger into flames, and soldiers clawed their way out of the tank towards the open air. Lina leveled her rifle at the back of a German helmet and squeezed the trigger. The men around her opened fire, and she rose to a crouch and began to walk towards the town, her eyes scanning around the horizon.

Buck was ahead of her, posed to push off and race into oncoming fire. She crouched next to him. "How fast can you run?" he hollered.

"As fast as I need to!"

The medic staggered down beside the lieutenant, cradling his leg. Bull pulled his men out of the ditch, and Buck took off towards a farmhouse to the right. Lina jumped up after him and a stray bullet whizzed past her ear. She sprinted after Buck, pressing herself against the side of the house as men cleared the corners of the building.

The town was idyllic and too quiet for a place that had just witnessed the explosion of a German tank. Lina glanced up at the pointed rooftops. The sniper had to have been firing from some high angle, otherwise they would have seen the man - her eyes scanned the horizon and came to rest on the church's bell tower. Of course.

"I need to get up high," she said to no one in particular. Bill came around the corner of the building and pressed himself against the brick. "See any place to climb?"

"Climb?" he repeated, and then he scowled. "No way, not after Carentan."

She gripped her rifle tighter and shook her head. "Only way."

"Find another one," Bill griped before he peered around the side of the building and ran towards a low brick wall. She followed him, keeping her head down low, looking for better cover and finding none. All the town really had to offer were abandoned carts of hay and short plywood fences held together with chicken wire. The tanks rolled into town on the road behind her, and she followed Bill over the brick wall and tumbled into a church yard with weathered graves and peat gravel.

They further they pushed into the town, the more she felt an invisible pair of eyes boring into the back of her skull. She stopped to catch her breath next to Malarkey and gave him a piercing look. "They're hiding."

He panted and looked away into the streets beyond. "I don't know where."

But they were hiding, and she was seeking. There was a snake in the grass, she could sense it, but if she wasn't careful, she would step on it and its fangs would pierce her foot before she could shoot it in the head.

Still, they dashed their way into the center of the little town, pausing to hide behind steel barrels and clothes lines, looking for the enemy. The tanks turned into the lane behind them and chugged forward, shooting tiny pieces of gravel at Lina's calves.

"Look at Johnny," Bill huffed. Johnny Martin was running up the lane before them, heading straight for the tanks with Babe in tow. He held his rifle aloft and the tank slowed enough for Johnny to jump up towards the hatch. She couldn't hear his words over the rumble of the engine, but she watched as he gesticulated towards the interior of the town.

"He sees something," she said.

Bill scoffed as the driver shook his head and inched forward. Johnny jumped off the tank and ran beside it as it proceeded full speed down the little lane into the tight corners of the town center. Lina put her hand on Bill's arm. "Get ready to-"

The words were blasted out of her mouth as the second tank erupted into a crashing metallic flash.

"Fall back!" yelled a voice beyond the smoke, and Lina pushed herself to her feet and darted behind the brick building next to her. She hadn't made it two feet before another round was fired from the hidden Tiger – the other side of the building exploded into a shower of bricks.

The machine gunners were perched behind the eaves of the rooftops – she could see that now, but there was nowhere to hide to return fire. Another round blasted from a Tiger and the responding explosion confirmed what she had known all along: they had strolled right into a trap.

She rounded the corner and jumped over a low brick wall, joining a gaggle of paratroopers. Soldiers were coming out of the woodwork now, carrying mortars on their shoulders, and the guys in front of her did their best to return fire as she fell to the ground. There was a hedge in front of her, and she could make it if she crawled – she grabbed her rifle from her shoulder and inched forward on her forearms.

Lina rolled through the bush and landed on Buck's legs. "C'mon," he said, grabbing her by her shirt collar. "They're about to outflank us."

She ran alongside him, dipping into ditches when the whine of a mortar round sang overhead, grabbing stragglers and forcing them in front of her. They found the same low ditch alongside the road, the one that had been so peaceful only thirty minutes before, and ran through it.

Lina heard the bullet before she saw Buck fall in front of her. She tried to grab him before he hit the grass but failed. Buck reached behind his back and raised his bloody fingers to his eyes, his hand shaking.

"Medic!" Malarkey cried, and Roe emerged out of the air, jumping past fleeing soldiers to get closer to where Buck lay trembling.

Roe pushed Buck's knee aside and squinted as he unwound a bandage. "It's gone right through, Buck," he yelled. "Side-to-side, both cheeks."

Lina pursed her lips and peered over Buck's side. He swatted at her. "Get them out of here."

"What?"

A mortar hit the road to their left, spraying dirt over their faces. She flattened herself to the grass. "Malarkey, get 'em out of here, go!" Don looked as confused as she felt. "Just leave me here for the Germans."

She couldn't help it – she snorted. Buck glared at her from the across the ditch. "Are you nuts?" Don said. "We'll carry you."

"Are you kidding me?" Buck retorted. "I weigh more than all of you combined."

Malarkey grimaced and clutched his rifle tighter before nodding towards a nearby barn. "Follow me," he said to Roe and Skip. The three men scrambled out of the ditch and back into the fire. Buck groaned and jerked his head back as Roe hit a sensitive spot.

Lina patted him on the knee. "You got shot in the ass."

"Stop smiling," he grunted.

"Sorry, but..." The quick turnaround of the day's events had muddled her head somewhat. "It's funny." She peeked over the edge of the ditch and watched as Skip, Don and Bill knocked down the barn door. "Your stretcher is coming."

A shitshow – that's how Lew would describe Nuenen. As he watched men scrambling into the backs of trucks, holding on to bleeding arms and dirty rifles, he cursed the British for their dogged determination to stroll right in to Holland.

"Let's go! Let's go!" Dick called behind him, ushering men away from the smoking town. Someone bumped into his side – Lina, sweating bullets, was supporting a bleeding soldier on a splintering door that had been repurposed as a stretcher.

"Sorry," she grimaced, adjusting the wood on her shoulder as they navigated the man towards the back of a truck. As they turned, Lew caught sight of Buck's face screwed up in pain. "He's heavy."

"Keep moving, keep moving!" Dick yelled, waving the stragglers towards the caravan. The sky above the little Dutch town had gone purple from the acrid smoke. Dick passed Lew and leaned against the side of a tank. "Hurry up, let's go!"

Lew jogged up and crouched beside the next tank over. "How bad?"

"I don't know yet," Dick replied. He opened his mouth to reply, but something hit his forehead so hard that it knocked his head backwards. A cry went up behind him, and he hit the gravel with an audible thud.

"Nix!"

He opened his eyes. Dick was hovering over him, his hands grasping Lew's shoulders. "I'm alright," Lew said. His forehead was throbbing – how did he even get on the ground? The stones were painfully sharp underneath his back. Dick's face was pale – well, it was always pale, but even more so now. "Am I alright?"

"Yeah, you feel alright?" Dick said. The worry lines between his brows were caked with dirt. His blue eyes were bloodshot. Lew touched his forehead, inspecting the stinging scrape.

"Yeah, quit looking at me like that." Lew could blame the pounding of his heart on the shock, and not the way Dick had cradled his head. He scooted backwards and raised himself up on his elbows, but before he could stand, another figure came from behind and peered down at him.

Lina gave him a sour look, her hand gripping her arm. She peeled her palm away from her jacket and showed him the blood spreading across her fingers. "Thanks for that," she quipped.

"Maybe if you weren't always in the way," Lew wheezed as he got to his feet. "You wouldn't get hurt."

"Ah, what's another one?" she said acerbically, slapping her hand back over the nick in her bicep. The scowl on her face couldn't mask the worry in her eyes. "Are you alright?"

"Stop asking me that," Lew said. He grabbed Lina by her good arm and jogged them back towards the remaining truck. She flinched as they dodged an incoming mortar. "I'm not made out of porcelain."

She jerked away from him and accepted the hand Lip extended from the truck bed. "That's a shock," she said shortly. She settled in beside Skip and quirked her eyebrow. "Shit day."

Lew looked back at the destroyed town. "Only going to get worse from here on out."

Roe glared at her. "Should just give you your own medic bag. You could patch yourself up and save me the time."

She frowned as he poked around her wound. "I could, but you know..." She wiggled her free arm behind her back and around her shoulders. "Awkward."

He paused. "You've got a lot of scarring here." He tapped the top of her shoulder. "Looks like an old burn."

"Ignore that," she said. His eyes flickered toward her face, but she focused on the far-off tree line.

"Alright," he said. He pulled a little piece of gauze from his bag. "Just apply pressure. Should be fine in a few days. You've heard this all before."

"Thank you," she said, taking the little bandage. "I do appreciate you, you know."

Rose scoffed as he pushed himself up from the hastily dug foxhole and walked off towards his next victim.

For the first time in days, she was alone. The men had dug their foxholes closer to the dyke but she had gone further afield in search of some silence. The day had been a massive failure – they should have anticipated that after strolling into Eindhoven. Nothing was more persistent than a thwarted German. She exhaled slowly and gazed up at the sky. Clouds of smoke were filtering the moonlight, turning the field around her dull grey.

She hadn't seen Ron all day. There would have been no opportunity for her to seek him out, and part of her didn't want to give in to that urge. She could pretend she didn't want him, or she could go find him, force him to listen to her.

And then what?

He wouldn't talk to her in front of his men, and he definitely wouldn't talk to her if she happened to find him alone. But she had to know if he was hurt. She would have heard if he had been hurt, right?

Right?

Someone would have mentioned it, the men would have said something. He was too feared to be loved, but if the mighty slayer of German POWs was felled by a stray bullet, there would be talk. Or Lew would have told her, maybe.

Maybe.

She rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. She had completely fucked up everything. She couldn't rely on the men she had become closest with, all because she had decided to put herself first. She had told herself that she was doing it for them, and maybe that was true. But now the excuse seemed shallow in her mind and sounded fake when it came out of her mouth.

Lew had been right. She did get off on it.

She leaned back into the dirt and stared up at the night sky. Every now and then she caught the shimmer of a star lightyears away. She needed a drink.

Ron watched the Luftwaffe bomb Eindhoven from the top of an abandoned tank. There wasn't much else to do – he could stalk around and make sure that his men were where they needed to be, but he was sure his sergeants could handle them. There had been some talk about Easy missing a man. He had hovered only for a moment, just to make sure that it was a "man" they were missing. Once he had heard Bull Randleman's name, he had moved forward.

He kept thinking about the barn.

Lina hadn't come to find him. He almost didn't expect her to, but then again, he figured she wouldn't give up so easily. Or let him bully her into silence.

When he had rejected her apologies, her face had morphed into an expression he had never seen her wear. It almost looked like panic. And even when he had been in the middle of rebuffing her, the fright on her face had triggered an alarm inside his head. His first instinct had been to protect Lina from whatever was threatening her, but that instinct was futile – how could he protect her from himself?

Plus, wasn't he the one who needed protecting from her?

He knocked his fist against the hull of the machine.

Winters wandered out into the deserted road, followed closely by Nixon. Another day, he would have jumped down and inserted himself into their conversation. Tonight, he wanted to stay invisible.

"Longshore's been hovering," Nixon said.

"Thought he was going back to McMaster," Winters replied.

"Apparently they have some homework."

Ron ground the heel of his hands into his eyes and sighed. Dammit.

Nixon looked up at the sound of his breath. "Hi, Ron. Rough day?"

"Just dandy," he said.

"What's the count for Dog?"

Ron slid down the side of the tank and walked closer to Winters. "Five dead, thirteen wounded."

"'Bout the same for us," Winters replied. "Lew, make sure those maps go where they're needed."

"Will do," Nixon said. Winters patted his shoulder and walked down off the dyke, leaving Ron with the man with whom he least wanted to chat.

"So..." Nixon began, looking Ron up and down. "How's it going?"

"Fine."

Nixon raised an eyebrow. "Sounds like it." He kicked a piece of gravel with the toe of his boot. "You seen Lina?"

"Yes."

Nixon raised both eyebrows. "Oh." He looked around. "Did you two get your hands on some liquor last night? She was still drunk when she came around this morning."

Ron sucked on his teeth. "Wasn't with her last night."

"Ah," Nixon said. "She said she was with Luz, but I thought she was lying."

He crossed his arms. "Anything else you need?"

Nixon squinted. "Are you two... having a fight?"

"No."

Nixon looked off to the side. "Well, then. I guess I'll get back to camp."

"You do that," Ron replied.

Nixon began to walk away, but stopped short and turned back around. "Look, she pissed me off, too, but she's-"

"I don't have anything more to say to you," Ron snapped. "And I have no interest in Agent Shutze."

Nixon blinked a few times before raising his hands. "Alright, message received." He shook his head as he turned around. "Take it easy, Spiers."

Ron watched him go until he emerged into the shadows off of the road. He had to nip this in the bud. Things were only going to get messier. They obviously weren't going to be home in time for Christmas, either. He had to cut the ties that should have never been formed in the first place, for his own sake.

It was unhealthy, this obsession he had harbored. It was time to face up to it.

Behind him, a lone bomb fell on Eindhoven, and he turned to watch the reds and oranges of the fires burn the city to the ground.