A/N: Sorry it's so late! Got a little stuck, and I like to stay a chapter ahead, but here it is! Chapter 8! I recently broke 500 views, and I don't know what that actually means on this site as far as popularity, but it makes me feel great! So thanks, you guys :)

This time, Ella's dress was tighter. There was a keyhole gap in the chest, revealing just a little more skin than she was comfortable with. Her hair was in more of an updo, the curls bouncing higher. She had applied full makeup and her alligator-skin heels were three inches high - more than she'd ever worn. Distraction was a must in this particular operation, and Ella had to be at her best.

A bottle of milk in one hand, her PPK in the other behind her back, she turned the corner and waltzed up to the German prison guard. A mask had come down over her face and she was now a pretty German girl who was looking for her brother, coming to give news of their mother's illness.

"Hallo, mein Bruder ist hier stationiert. Darf ich ihn sehen?" (Hello. My brother is stationed here. May I see him?) She was holding out hope that this guard was not stern, that she could loosen him up with a big smile and batting her eyelashes. Thankfully, it was starting to work. He was looking at her figure more than he was scrutinizing her.

"Wer ist dein Bruder? Ich könnte dich zu ihm bringen." (Who is your brother? I might take you to him.)

"Ja, sein Name ist Heinrich." (Yes, his name is Heinrich.) It was the most generic German name she could think of.

"Heinrich?"

The distraction she needed was for that exact moment. She brought the milk bottle up and to the guard's temple, the glass smashing against his head. His eyes rolled back to the whites, but before he could fall, her arms were out and she caught his limp form, slowing his deadweight momentum, laying him down without a sound. Walking on the balls of her feet as much as she could, she fished out the key ring from the guard's pocket, tucked it into her cleavage and crept through the door.

The hallways were fairly empty, since the prison had been cleared for Stiglitz's arrival. Such a brazen way of getting inside would never have worked otherwise. After clearing the initial entrance, she whistled once, a catcall as they had arranged. Donny appeared first, carrying Ella's jacket with her rank on it and a rifle for her. Nodding thanks, she slipped the jacket on and checked the rifle, glad for more coverage. It didn't escape her that Donny had stolen a glance before handing over the equipment. Utivich and Kagan took over as point, staying ten feet ahead of everyone else. The prison was old and dusty, the concrete floors scuffed from years of boots and blood. After some slit throats and snapped necks, they had almost reached the lone cell where Stiglitz was being kept. Silence was one thing the Basterds were all impeccable at. The ability to appear and disappear without a sound was invaluable. Lining up around the corner, Utivich and Zimmerman looked through their troop, an unspoken signal passing between each of them to say that they were ready. The two took off through the holding area, taking out three of the four guards. Ella dropped to a knee at the corner and took out the last one, letting the hall fall into silence.

"Clear," Zimmerman said, and the Basterds filed into the dirty room. One man sat in the cell, smoking a cigarette. The man they had come for. Aldo came in last.

"Hugo Stiglitz?"

The man just nodded, calmly taking a drag on his cigarette. Some German groaned and a Basterd shot him again without a second thought. The shell clinked on the floor.

"I'm Aldo Raine. We're the Basterds. Heard of us?"

The man nodded again. Ella guessed Wicki had met his stoic match, and then the prisoner spoke.

"The Bear Jew. Aldo the Apache. Wölfin. You are famous." His english was decent, which was a relief to the Basterds. To have someone following him around to translate would be tedious.

"I wanna say we're big fans of your work," Aldo continued. "But your status as a Nazi-killer is still amateur. We came to see if you wanna go pro."

Stiglitz nodded again. Ella stepped forward and retrieved the keys from her dress, searching for the right one. She opened the door and then took care of Stiglitz's handcuffs.

"Welcome to the Basterds, Hugo Stiglitz."


Darkness had settled over the camp. The Basterds had started making their way back to France, and the second night after they had picked up Hugo, they were slightly ahead of schedule. Most of the men had gone to bed, but Ella had been given watch, so she sat at the smoldering fire with a copy of The Horse's Mouth by Joyce Cary, trying to read in the little light she had. Hugo sat across from her, lighting yet another cigarette. He seemed to conjure packs of them out of thin air.

"Miss Demski?" Hugo would call her nothing but this or by her rank. When she asked why, he only shrugged and said, "It is correct."

"Yeah?"

"I met the man who gave you your nickname. The Private from your first attack."

"Did you? I wonder, will he have a scar on his cheek?"

"Most definitely," Hugo replied with a chuckle. "What you are doing...you and your men...danke."

A small smile crossed Ella's face. "Sie sind wilkommen, Hugo. We are glad to have you."

He crushed out his cigarette and stood up, gave her one nod, and went to his tent, nothing more to be said. The complexities of men sometimes confounded Ella.

She went back to her book, keeping an ear out for any possible threat. Two hours and one hundred pages by low light later, Ella heard a branch snap. The book hit the dirt and almost before she knew it, Ella's PPK was out and cocked, her body twisted down into a low crouch. The dark slowly became clearer. She was frozen solid, trying to identify the form that was a mere twenty yards from her. It was smaller than a person, hovering close to the ground. The form was almost as dark as the night behind it, and it was not moving, just like Ella.

They stood at a standoff for about a minute, and then Ella realized. It was a dog. The gun remained in her hand because she had seen plenty of unfriendly dogs in her life, but she knelt down instead of crouching, making her stance less defensive. The dog hunkered low, watching her.

"Hey, pup," Ella murmured. The hand that wasn't holding the gun reached out, beckoning with her fingers. "Here, boy." Ella never could resist befriending an animal. Or at least trying to.

The dog hesitated a long time. Ella sat there for five minutes, making a kissy noise once in a while, holding her hand out to the dog. She could see through the dark better, and his face was clear now. He was a little scrawny, and he had ears that could probably receive a signal if you angled them right. She wasn't sure, but Ella thought he could be a German Shepherd puppy, almost a year old, if she figured right. Her father had had a Collie, and the breeds' sizes were similar. He could have easily gotten away from or been abandoned by the German army, since they used Hitler's favorite animal in the field sometimes.

The dog finally shuffled forward a little. Finding her canteen with her empty hand, Ella unscrewed the cap and sloshed the water around inside. The dog knew that sound - his ears perked up and he lifted his head.

"Well, c'mere, then," she said quietly. He paused again, really not knowing whether to trust her or not. Ella had gone through the same thing with Winnie; eventually, the animal just gets too curious. Sure enough, the pup cautiously came forward until he was six feet away from Ella. She sloshed the water around again, holding the canteen's mouth out to him. He came closer and sniffed the canteen...and then he licked it. She tipped it towards him and he lapped up the drops that fell out.

"Good boy," she said, inching the canteen back her way. He followed it until they were a foot away from each other. Then he just looked at her.

"I know what you want," Ella said, mostly to herself. There was some leftover jerky in her pack next to the log. Moving slowly so she didn't startle him, she flopped the pack open and took a piece out, biting off a corner for the dog. He sniffed her fingers, decided it was too much to resist, and gobbled the jerky down. She moved to pat his head, and to her surprise, he didn't leap away or try to bite her when her fingers touched the top of his head.

"Here. It's warmer on this side." Ella reached under his ribs and lifted him over the log closer to the fire. Now she was almost sure he was a German Shepherd - his coat was mostly black, but tan fur spread under his chin and across his chest, belly, and down his legs. He had two little tan spots where his 'eyebrows' were, and his snout resembled that of a wolf. She scratched behind his ear, and he seemed to visibly relax.

He laid down and rested his head on her boot. Ella could only imagine how he had gotten here and survived in the woods to find his way to their camp. They stayed like this, Ella reaching down to pet him and reading by the firelight, until dawn, when Donny woke up.

"Who's that?" The scruffy man rubbed his eyes, staring down at the little thing at Ella's feet.

"Don't know his name yet. He wandered up in the middle of the night."

Donny came over to sit next to Ella on the log, adjusting his suspenders and yawning. The gold pendant that hung around his neck bounced on his chest. The dog looked at him warily, but seemed too sleepy to really do anything.

"What will Aldo think?"

Ella sighed. "I don't know. He'll be skeptical. Definitely against me keeping him. But I think I could train him and stuff." She looked at Donny, then back at the dog. "Actually, he kinda looks like you."

"Very funny."

"What about Duke?"

"What, for a name? He's a little small for that one, isn't he?" At about a foot tall at his shoulder, maybe Donny was right.

"He'll grow into it, if I know anything about Shepherds."

"Ella, what the hell is that sleepin' on your boot?"

There was Aldo, and that tone of voice was reserved for those who had really annoyed him.

"Now, hold on, Aldo..."

"No 'hold on, Aldo.' Where did that dog come from?"

"He wandered up while I was on watch. I'll train him, carry him until he's bigger, feed him from my own rations if I must. He could be useful. The Germans use them all the time, and it looks like they chose him but he got away."

Aldo stood there, his lips pursed, glaring at Ella. As if trying to persuade him, the pup looked up at him and cocked his head, ears pointing at his girl.

"Goddamnit, Ella Demski -"

"If I had a nickel for every time I heard that, Aldo Raine."

"He falls behind, he barks, he gets hurt, that's it. You hear me?" He shook his finger at her as he laid down the rules.

"Yes, sir!" Ella sat up straight and saluted her Lieutenant. Anyone else would have made her get rid of the dog.

"Ace," Donny said from beside her. "His name should be Ace."

Ella looked down at their new pup. "What about it, boy? Ace?" He licked her hand excitedly. She lifted him into her lap, which he was already almost too big for. The pup's tongue turned to Donny and slathered his cheek. His face scrunched up into a funny smile and when he looked at Ella, suddenly she'd never been happier.