April 25, 1944
"I don't want to die!" Victoria repeated, grasping Kate even tighter as the airplane plummeted towards the ground.
"Calm down, Victoria!" Kate yelled back. "And don't squeeze so hard, I can't breathe!"
Victoria couldn't calm herself, but she loosened her grip from the smaller woman somewhat. She looked out from the plane window and saw how the dark horizon was coming closer and closer. Just as she was about to brace for the impact, the plane leveled itself and their descent slowed down. A few seconds later, Victoria felt how the wheels of the plane touched the ground roughly, bouncing a few feet back in the air before settling on the ground and finally coming to a halt.
"Time for you ladies to get out!" Cade shouted into the intercom. "Hurry up! We haven't got all night!"
Victoria grabbed the latch and turned it. She pushed the canopy open and released her seatbelt. She pushed herself up and stepped onto the ladder. She hastily climbed down and landed on her knees, touching the ground with deep appreciation.
"Victoria, get our things!" Kate shouted from within the cockpit as she was getting herself loose.
The taller woman stood back up promptly and opened the luggage compartment. She pulled their gear out of the small recess and set them on the ground. Kate closed the canopy and jumped down from the ladder. At the same instant, Cade began rolling away from them, and a few moments later, his plane was again airborne.
The two women stood there, watching how Cade maneuvered through the flak. They were so enchanted by the pilot's aerobatics that they were both startled when a woman's voice shouted from the edge of the forest: "Hé, vous deux! Venez ici! Come here!"
Victoria and Kate quickly picked up their gear and began walking towards the source of the voice. As they walked and Victoria felt the Sten clanking against her hip, she came to realize that they were now on enemy soil. Any wrong move or decision could prove to be fatal, and that was if they were lucky. Based on the stories and rumors Victoria had heard of the Nazi concentration camps, getting caught alive wasn't really an option.
"Vite! Les boches will be here any moment!" the voice rushed.
Victoria and Kate picked up their pace as much as they could with the extra weight of their equipment and made it to the edge of the forest. They were greeted by a small, blond woman, wearing a dark trench coat and a beret. An MP-40 submachine gun was hanging from her shoulders. She was eyeing the two women suspiciously. "Louis Daguerre was a French painter who created 'Daguerreotypes'," she said.
"A process that gave portraits a sharp reflective style, like a mirror," Kate responded.
The trench coated woman kept eyeing them sternly for a few seconds more before she smiled and gave her hand. "My name is Rachelle Ambre. Welcome to France!"
"Thank you! Kate Marsh, SOE." Kate shook hands with her. "This is Sergeant Victoria Chase of the OSS."
"Bienvenue, sergent!"
"Merci." Victoria took the offered hand.
"Mais, now we must hurry," Rachelle said. "Your arrival didn't go unnoticed, and the forest will be swarming with Wehrmacht soldiers."
Rachelle began running deeper into the forest, the two other women right on her tail. It was hard to keep up with her in the darkness with all the gear they were carrying. Victoria hadn't really done any hard exercising since the boot camp and she was out of shape. Panting heavily, she did her best to keep up with the others.
Victoria had no idea how long they had run. Her lungs were crying for mercy when she saw that maybe a hundred yards ahead of them was a small road, and there was a small vehicle parked on the side. She ran a few more steps before she recognized the silhouette of the car to be a German Kübelwagen, with the Wehrmacht bar cross emblem painted on the front door.
"Kate, stop!" Victoria whispered, grabbing the smaller woman from the shoulder. "We're walking into a trap."
"What are you talking about?" Kate whispered back, then she saw the car. She slowed down to a halt and pulled her Sten.
Rachelle ran a few steps more before she realized that the others weren't following her. She turned around and found herself staring at the muzzle of Kate's weapon. "Qu'est-ce que vous faites? What are you doing?" she asked bemusedly, before she gasped in realization. "Ah, maintenant, je comprends," she said, raising her hand to calm the two other women. "We stole that Kübelwagen from the Wehrmacht. It's ours."
"Oh yeah?" Victoria asked suspiciously, raising her own weapon. "We were just almost shot down from the sky. Excuse us for being a little bit on the edge."
"Calmez-vous, s'il vous plait," Rachelle pleaded. "Let me prove it to you."
"All right, but remember that we're aiming at you," Kate said.
Rachelle turned around slowly, took out a small flashlight and flashed it twice towards the parked vehicle. First, nothing happened, but suddenly a figure rose from the ditch on the other side of the road. It was dark, but Victoria could see that it was a woman. She was wearing a pilot's leather jacket and cargo pants. A flat cap covered what appeared to be a slightly unkempt bob. She had a submachine gun aimed at them.
"C'est bon, Max," Rachelle said to the woman. "They're friends."
Max hesitated for a moment before she lowered her weapon. "If yer say so."
"Satisfied?" Rachelle asked Kate and Victoria. "There aren't any boches here, but there will be if we don't hurry."
"We are," Kate answered, lowering her Sten. "Please excuse our cautiousness. As Victoria said, we are a little on the edge."
"Aren't we all?" Rachelle concurred as they walked to the car. "Max Caulfield, meet Kate Marsh and Victoria Chase." She did the introductions.
"Céad míle fáilte! Welcome!" Max said with a smile and shook the hands of the two women.
"You're… Irish?" Kate asked bemusedly.
"And you're English, but I won't hold that against yer," the capped woman said chuckling.
Victoria could now get a better look at their greeter. Unlike Rachelle, who was stylish and could've easily blend in with actresses like Rita Hayworth and Katharine Hepburn, Max sported a natural look, letting her freckles compliment that disheveled auburn bob. She was by no means unattractive, though. With a little grooming, that duckling could be turned into a swan, Victoria thought.
"We really should get going," Rachelle said to Max.
"Aye, we should," the freckled woman agreed. "Let's put your things in the boot and let's get going."
Victoria walked to the rear of the vehicle and opened the trunk lid, only to find an engine mounted in there.
"Oi!" Max exclaimed from the front of the car. "The boot is over 'ere."
Slightly embarrassed, Victoria closed the trunk, or in this case, the hood, and joined the rest at the front where Kate was already putting her things into the small compartment in front of the fuel tank. Victoria noted that Kate held on to her Sten, so she followed her example and left the clunky submachine gun on her shoulder. Max closed the trunk and everyone took their seats in the small ragtop car. Victoria and Kate sat in the back while Rachelle rode shotgun next to Max who was driving. Max pressed the ignition and the small flat-four began its distinctive burble.
They set on the dark, narrow road. Max kept their pace relatively fast, regardless that the masked headlights provided only a faint, narrow beam of light right in front of them. After a while, the forest turned into fields. Victoria could make out the dark silhouettes of some sporadic farm houses. The blackout was in effect in the countryside too.
"Aren't you worried about running into some patrol?" Kate asked Rachelle.
"The only garrison in the area is in the other direction and there aren't any checkpoints along the way," Rachelle explained. "Any moving vehicles don't usually stop for other traffic, especially if it's one of their own. Just lay low, if someone happens to come by. Anyway, we're almost at our destination."
"So… Max, is that short for Maxine?" Victoria asked the woman behind the wheel.
"Aye," Max answered, "but only me ma calls me that. To others, I've been Max as long as I can remember."
"I'm curious, what is an Irishwoman doing here fighting in the French resistance? Last time I checked, Ireland was neutral," Victoria noted.
"I... have my reasons." Max's previously cheerful tone turned more serious.
Victoria considered pushing on further, but decided against it as the freckled woman seemed to close off and concentrate on the driving.
"Alors, we are glad to have you with us," Rachelle said, sensing that the atmosphere had gotten uneasy. "Les boches have really taken a toll on our numbers."
"We're glad to be able to help you with your cause," Kate said. "Is it true that you're a women only group?"
"Oui," Rachelle confirmed. "We are a tight group. Our leader, Chloé, says that men are a liability. It is better for us to operate this way as we can rely on each other and be sure that everyone does their part."
"Well, you can trust us to pull our weight," Kate affirmed.
"Bien sûr." Rachelle smiled in acceptance. "And you can count on our assistance in your mission." She paused for a moment, before she asked: "Can you let us in on what your mission is about?"
"I'm afraid not at this point," Kate said apologetically.
"Oh, that is completely understandable."
Victoria sensed that Rachelle wasn't quite content with Kate's response, even though she was still smiling. She wondered briefly why that might be, but let it go when Max suddenly slowed down and made a hard turn on a smaller road. She saw that the road led again into a small forest. They didn't have to drive long, though, before they arrived to a small clearing. Right on one edge, there was a derelict, old farmhouse and a run-down barn.
"All right, we're here," Max said, parking in front of the barn doors.
"Will you give me a hand with the doors, Victoria?" Rachelle asked.
"Sure," Victoria said and stepped out of the Kübelwagen. She took hold of one of the ramshackle, wooden doors and pulled it open while Rachelle did the same with the other door. As soon as there was enough clearance, Max drove the car inside and parked it into one corner. The remaining women stepped out of the car and they took the things out of the luggage compartment.
"Give us a hand, will yer?" Max said to Kate as she grabbed a piece of rusty sheetmetal and started pulling it in front of the Kübelwagen. Kate grabbed another piece of sheetmetal and covered the rest of the vehicle.
"There!" Max said approvingly. "Will yer take our guests down while I cover our tracks and close the doors?" she asked Rachelle.
"D'accord," the other woman complied. "Suivez-moi, s'il vous plait." She walked to a pile of debris next to the back wall of the barn and knelt down. She slipped her fingers under the pile and with surprising ease, turned the pile over, revealing a stairwell that led under the barn. "Come," Rachelle instructed the other two women.
Victoria and Kate stepped down into the stairwell after Rachelle. The stairs lead into a narrow corridor that was approximately seven feet under the ground. The walls of the corridor were lined with large pieces of graven rocks from the cement floor to the lumber ceiling. At the other end, there was a sturdy metal door.
This thing is built like a bunker, Victoria thought as they walked the corridor. As soon as they reached the door, Rachelle knocked on it five times, a pause then four knocks, another pause and finally two knocks.
"Ici Geai bleu," she said in a clear voice. A few seconds later, a latch was being moved behind the door and it was pushed open. Behind the door, was a tall woman, maybe an inch or two taller than Victoria. Like Max, she was dressed in a pilot jacket, cargo pants and combat boots, but instead of a flat cap, a beret was adorning her strawberry blonde, short cut locks.
"Tout va bien?" the woman asked.
"Un peu de mauvais temps, mais le pilote s'est enfui," Rachelle answered as the three women stepped inside the bunker.
This must be their leader, Victoria thought and stepped forward, extending her hand. "Ravie de vous renconter. Je suis le sergent Victoria Chase," she said boastfully.
The woman didn't take the offered hand. Instead she eyed Victoria, unimpressed. "Donc, ils ont envoyé un clouseau," she said sighing in disappointment.
"They sent a what?" Victoria asked flabbergasted.
"We use the word 'clouseau' of foreigners that can't pronounce French correctly," the tall woman said nonchalantly. "Even the Krauts pronounce it better than you. You'd be caught in the first check-up."
Victoria couldn't believe her ears. Six years of studying French and an honorary award, and this is what I get? She was about to raise her finger in fury to retort, when she realized that the other woman was talking perfect American English. "Your dialect… Pacific-Northwest," she said, a hint of amazement in her voice.
"Newport, Oregon, to be exact, or my dad was anyways. I'm half-American," the woman said, grinning and offering her hand. "Chloé Price."
Victoria was still too dumbfounded to come up with anything witty, so she simply took the offered hand.
"Nice to meet ya, Sergeant Victoria Chase," Chloé continued, shaking Victoria's hand. "Don't take it too personally. You'd have to live years in France in order to pass as a native, and to put it nicely, you sound more like a Southern belle rather than a true Frenchwoman."
"Hmph, whatever," Victoria huffed and let go of Chloé's hand and turned to pout at the stone wall. She'd hoped to impress the leader of the resistance group, but she'd only managed to make a fool out of herself.
"And who might you be?" Chloé turned her attention to Kate.
"Je m'appelle Kate Marsh. Mon français n'est probablement pas parfait," Kate answered.
"Nice to meet you; Kate Marsh." Chloe offered her hand. "And you're right, it's not perfect," Chloé said. "You could probably pass as someone coming from Jersey or Guernsey. We can work on that, as well as on Sergeant Chase's Louisianan here. We probably won't be able to use you in any reconnaissance missions that would require you to be out in public, but you'll at least get past check-ups should the need ever occur."
"We'd appreciate that," Kate said as she shook hands with the taller woman.
Another series of knocks on the door, followed by a gentle: "Ici Chevreuil." Rachelle released the latch and pushed the door open, letting Max in.
"What took you so long, Max?" Chloé asked.
"Yer go and swipe the tire tracks away for a change," Max said flatly.
"But you're so good at it," Chloé wooed the freckled woman. "It's almost like you could turn back time."
"You're such a sweet-talk, yer know that?" Max said as she walked to Chloé and took her into her embrace.
"Your very own," Chloé answered and kissed the smaller woman.
Both Victoria and Kate watched the display of affection between the two women in amazement. Realizing that the newcomers' eyes were upon them, Chloé broke the kiss and turned to face them. "Yes, Max and I are a couple," she said seriously. "I certainly hope this won't be an issue for you."
"Um, not at all," Kate hurried to say.
"Hmph, I couldn't care less about your hanky-panky even if I tried to," Victoria huffed, still peeved about her humiliation. In reality, though, she was fascinated about the relationship between the two female partisans. What circumstances had brought these two quite different women together?
"Right, well, with that out of the way, let us show you our base of operations and your accommodation for the unforeseeable future," Chloé said, letting go of the smaller woman.
"What is this place anyway?" Kate asked.
"Only a handful of people know of this place," Chloé explained. "The man who used to own this farm built it as wine cellar. He was quite obsessed about that people might steal his wines, so he built it under his barn. He died a few years after he'd gotten it finished and with no offspring, the farm was left abandoned."
"The wine cellar would've probably never been discovered, if the man hadn't confessed it to père Jacques, our local priest, on his death bed. Not knowing what to do with all the wine, père Jacques confided in my mother who keeps a tavern in the village. They came to an agreement that they both would use the contents of the cellar to supply their stocks."
"Long story short, I help to smuggle the wine to the parish and the tavern, and in return, we'll get to use the cellar as our base of operations. This place is built like a bunker and it's pretty isolated. We have most of our supplies here. It will also serve as your accommodation. We've set up a couple of bunks in the back for you."
"We appreciate that," Kate expressed her gratitude.
"So, are the three of you it or are there any others in your group?" Victoria asked, having finally relented somewhat.
"There are others," Rachelle answered. "They mostly gather intelligence and act as couriers. You'll get to meet them later."
"Max, Rachelle and I do most of the dirty work," Chloé continued. "We don't want to put the others at greater risk than they already are taking, therefore your arrival is really a blessing. Now we can hit the Germans where it really hurts."
"We shall do anything in our power to help your cause," Kate assured.
"Très bien!" Chloé said approvingly. "Now let us show you your quarters so you can change into something more comfortable."
Victoria and Kate followed the tall woman deeper into the wine cellar. Among the old, dusty wine bottles, there were crates of ammunition, mines and grenades. On one wall, there was a makeshift gun cabinet, containing a mixed selection of axis and allied rifles and submachine guns. Victoria could also see a few Panzerfausts peeking under a tarp. Luger and Walther pistols were scattered on the tables. These women were obviously well equipped.
"Les boches are really careless with their supplies," Rachelle chuckled when she noticed Victoria eyeing the items.
"I believe we can supply yer with something more reliable than those Stens you're carrying," Max commented, grabbing a submachine gun from the cabinet. "Take this one for size." She handed it to Victoria. "That's a Suomi KP/-31 submachine gun. It has a welded-on adapter to accept MP-40 magazines."
Victoria felt the gun in her hands. It was slightly heavier than the Sten and it had a wooden stock, compared to the metal tube one on the Sten. It was somewhat similar in appearance to the American Thompson that she'd used in training, the most notable differences being the lack of separate grips that the Thompson had. "Looks alright. I have to give it a try," Victoria commented, handing it back to Max.
They came into a small recess that housed a table and couple of bunks. The walls were covered with maps and photographs. Victoria made notice of the quality and composition of the images, particularly one, a self-portrait of Max, Chloé and Rachelle standing close to one another. "Who's taken these?"
"I have," Max answered.
"What camera did you use?"
"It's just an old Argus that used to belong to Chloé's father."
"Well, these look pretty impressive."
"I don't know about that," Max said shyly. "We needed pictures and someone had to take them."
"Don't be so modest," Victoria objected. "You clearly have a knack for taking photos. Trust me, I know what I'm talking about."
"Well, if yer say so…"
"How did you manage to develop these?" Victoria asked.
"I've set up a makeshift dark room over there," Max pointed at the end of the corridor.
"Oh, that might come in handy."
"If you two are quite finished…" Chloé interrupted them. "This used to be a tasting room, but we use it for planning. Now it'll serve as your accommodation. We took the liberty of setting you up with some clothes."
"You look about my size, chérie, so these should fit you," Rachelle said to Kate, picking up a pile of clothes and giving it to her.
"And Sergeant," Chloé said condescendingly, "my shirts and slacks are probably not your usual standard but they should at least fit." She handed the other pile to Victoria.
"Will you cut it with the 'Sergeant' already?" Victoria frowned as she grabbed the offered pile.
"Oh, would you prefer 'Princess'?" the woman in beret asked smugly.
"I've just about had it with you, missy!" Victoria retorted, tossing the clothes on the ground.
"Careful now, "Chloé continued. "You might break a nail-" Her sentence was cut short as Victoria hit her straight into nose, making her sway a few steps back. She swiped a trickle of blood from her nose, smirking. "You throw a good punch, but can you take one?" she asked as she stepped forward, landing a left hook into Victoria's jaw.
Victoria's head was ringing from the punch and she couldn't feel her jaw. "That all you got?" She managed to put on a brave face.
"Au contraire, I was just getting started," Chloé responded, shaking her sore fist.
"Likewise!" Victoria said, pouncing at the other woman. They both fell on the floor from the impact and began exchanging punches and kicks while rolling on top of each other.
"Um, should we intervene?" Kate asked Max and Rachelle as they were following the fight.
"Nah, let them fight," Max commented. "A good brawl always clears the air, my grandpa used to say."
Chloé and Victoria kept on wrestling for a few minutes more, before they both ran out of breath and rolled on their backs, panting heavily. Victoria felt her cheekbone. It felt sore from the bruise, inflicted by Chloé's elbow. Her lower lip was throbbing and she could taste the blood that was trickling from it. Chloé didn't look much better. Her nose was still bleeding and it looked like she'd be carrying a shiner on her left eye for the coming days. Well, this is a good start for our collaboration, Victoria thought remorsefully. This wasn't the first time she'd let her pride to get the better of her. She began to wonder if Kate would send her home on the next possible plane. She saw how Chloé rose to a sitting position and felt her nose, then, to everyone's surprise, she began to laugh.
"Merde! For a candy-ass, you sure pack a hella punch." She turned to face Victoria and grinned.
"Well, you're not so bad yourself," Victoria said, grinning back and grimacing from the pain.
"I guess we got off on a wrong foot back there," Chloé said as she stood up.
"It's starting to become a habit of mine," Victoria responded, following suit. "Sorry for being such a snob." She gave her hand.
"Well, I guess I kinda yanked your chain a bit there," Chloé admitted and took the offered hand.
"Truce?"
"Sure, Princess."
"I guess I'm stuck with that?" Victoria asked.
"I guess you are."
"Well, I suppose I could be called worse things than that," Victoria said, shrugging.
"Anyway, we shall now give you ladies some privacy, so that you can get changed," Chloe said as she walked to the corridor with Max and Rachelle. "Once you're finished, we'll go and eat at my mother's tavern."
"Is it safe to do so?" Kate asked.
"The Krauts never patronize the tavern at this hour, so we should be okay."
"She doesn't mind serving us at an ungodly hour like this?"
"Nah, it'll be fine," Chloé assured. "She's done this plenty of times."
"If you say so…"
"Don't worry about it. Just get changed and we'll get going." With that, Chloé joined the others in the corridor.
"So, what do you think about our hostesses?" Victoria asked as she was picking up the clothes she'd tossed on the floor.
"They seem nice enough, even though you gave them plenty of reasons not to be," the smaller woman pointed out as she began to undress.
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, I was out of line-" Victoria went quiet as she caught a glimpse of Kate who had slipped out of her jumpsuit. Standing there, in her simple but elegant bra and a shape-forming girdle, Kate Marsh was simply a stunning sight to look at. Whatever subliminal expectations Victoria might have held of the petite woman's appearance; they were exceeded by a vast margin. Victoria felt a craving sensation beginning to build up in her most private regions.
"Are you all right, Victoria?" Kate asked a bemusedly. "You have this weird look on your face."
"I… uh, I think I gotta go."
"Oh, in that case you'd better get changed so that we can go back up. I don't think there's a loo down here."
"Uh, yes, right," Victoria stammered and began to get out of her jumpsuit.
A few minutes later, both women had gotten dressed. Kate was wearing a simple, navy blue, two-piece wool suit, whereas Victoria donned chestnut brown slacks and a tan blazer jacket. Chloé clearly preferred a tomboyish style.
"Let's join the others," Kate said and walked into the corridor, Victoria right on her tail. They saw the others standing at the bottom end of the stairs. As they walked closer, Chloé raised a finger on her lips.
"Don't make a sound," she whispered. "There's someone outside the barn."
Author's notes:
Hi and welcome back! Victoria and Kate meet the resistance that consists of strangely familiar characters. Things don't start off on a good note, though.Disclaimer: All the spelling and grammar errors in the French sentences are mine (and Google translate's).
