A/N: Hey guys, late again. I flew home for the first time since January on Tuesday so it's been a crazy week so far! But here's chapter 12, and I hope you enjoy!

Back in the basement of the veterinarian's house, Ella watched Henry inject Bridget with a painkiller, and he reached for a pair of long-nosed tweezers.

"Hang on, Doc," Ella said stepping up to the exam table and throwing the little tray with surgical tools across the room. She leaned in close to Bridget, who was biting her fist in pain. Ella had never been more angry in her life, and she made sure to show it.

"What the fuck happened to my men?"

Bridget looked at her, confused.

"I know you fuckin' speak English so you had better tell me what the fuck happened down there or I swear to God I will try and hack that leg off myself."

"Corporal," Donny said, laying a hand on her shoulder and calling her by her rank so Bridget knew that she wasn't just some girl yelling at her. "Let the Lieutenant ask the questions."

"Jesus Christ, two of our officers are dead down there and funny fuckin' thing, the German actress is the only one to make it out," Ella almost shouted. Her hair was falling out of its ponytail and her hands, knees, and face were all smattered with blood. "Ace, down," she huffed. The dog was pawing at her leg, sensing the distress.

"Hang back, Ella." Aldo came into the exam room. "Now, before we yank that slug outta yer gam, you need to answer a few questions."

"About what?" Bridget gasped.

"You gotta be fucking kidding me." Ella stared at the actress, her hands on her hips. "You're that dumb?"

"Corporal," Aldo warned. Donny took Ella gently by the arm and steered her away from the exam table.

"She's right, though. How about I got three dead men back there. Now why don't you tell us what the fuck happened down there?"

"The British soldier blew his cover, and the Gestapo Major saw it."

"'Fore we get to that, why did you invite my men to a rendezvous in a basement with a bunch of Nazis?"

"I can see that since you didn't see what happened inside, the Nazis being there must look odd."

"Yeah, we got a word for that kinda odd in English. It's called suspicious." Aldo took his index finger and poked it into the hole in her leg, like a kid who had just found a curious new toy. Bridget shrieked, leaning over the edge of the exam table. Donny moved over to the other side of the table. Ella knew that he wasn't a big fan of vomit, though he would never tell the men that.

"You are letting your imagination get the better of you, Lieutenant," Bridget choked out. "You met the Sergeant, Willy. You remember him, don't you? His wife had a baby tonight. He had just become a father! His commanding officer gave him and his mates the night off to celebrate. The Germans being there was either a trap set by me or a tragic coincidence. It cannot be both," she gasped.

Aldo slowly pulled his finger from the bullet wound. The story was consistent, but Ella wasn't going to let it go. "How'd the shooting start?" Her voice was lower, calmer.

"The Englishman gave himself away."

"How did he do that?" Bridget was really getting on Ella's nerves by not just getting to the point.

"He ordered three glasses," she said, holding up her first three fingers. "We order three glasses. The other looks odd." She held up her first two fingers and thumb. Ella recognized it - she had seen Wicki do it, as well as German soldiers in the cafes. She closed her eyes in exasperation.

"El?" Aldo said, looking at her.

"It's true. I've seen it in town before. Wicki did it like that, too." She rubbed her temple. How could Hicox have been such a supposed aficionado on German culture, and made a stupid mistake like that in front of a Gestapo officer?

"Okay, so let's say there were no Germans. Everything went as planned. What's the next step?"

Ella let them talk. She sat in the chair in the corner, beckoning Ace over. All that was left of the Basterds were Utivich, Omar, Hirschberg back at camp, Donny, Aldo, and herself. If this war didn't end soon, she was going to lose more people she loved. And she didn't want to handle that.

Then Bridget's words brought her out of her thoughts: "The Furher is attending the premiere."

Ella jumped up. "Holy shit!"

"Fuck-a-duck!" Donny exclaimed at the same time. There was no choice now - they had to carry out the plan. Aldo started pacing. This was his thinking face, and Ella knew he was coming up with something.

"I'm thinking that getting a whack at Uncle Adolf makes this a horse of a different color," he mused.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you're getting us in that premiere."

Ella looked over at him slowly. There was no way…

"I'm probably going to end up losing this leg! Bye bye, acting career. Fun while it lasted. I don't think I'll be tripping the light fantastique up the red carpet anytime soon!" Bridget snapped. The morphine was kicking in.

"The doggie doc's gonna dig that slug outta yer gam. He's gonna wrap it up in a cast and you got a good broke-your-leg-mountain-climbing story. Y'all like climbing mountains don't you?" Aldo was getting more excited the more he talked the plan out, pulling out his snuff box and filling both nostrils. But Ella knew where it was going.

"No, I like smoking, drinking, and ordering in restaurants. But I see your point."

"We fill ya up with morphine 'til it's comin' outta your ears, and you'll limp your little ass up that rouge carpet."

Bridget sighed. "I know this is a silly question before I ask it, but do you Americans speak any other language than English?"

Ella snorted. "Believe me, I tried. I'm the only one that's fluent in anything else."

"Hey, El, I speak Yiddish!" Donny interjected.

"Yeah, me too!" Utivich said from the corner.

"Because that's going to help," she retorted.

Donny rolled his eyes. "We both speak a little Italian, though," he said, gesturing to Aldo.

"With an atrocious accent, no doubt." Bridget paused. "But that doesn't exactly kill us in the crib. Germans don't have a good ear for Italian. So you mumble Italian and brazen through it...is that the plan?"

"That's about it," Aldo replied.

"It sounds good," she said. Ella didn't have the heart to tell her that Aldo's accent wasn't atrocious - it was nonexistent.

"It sounds like shit, but what else are we gonna do? Go home?"

"No. It sounds good."

"I speak the most Italian, so I'll be your escort. Donny here speaks second most, so he'll be your Italian cameraman. Omar, you speak third most, so you'll be his assistant."

"I don't speak Italian," Omar said, confused.

"Like I said, third most. Just keep your mouth shut. In fact, why don't you start practicing right now."

Ella stared angrily at Aldo. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Lieutenant?"

"Ella Demski, you are not going on this mission."

Her stomach fell like a ton of bricks. "Don't you dare tell me that, Aldo Raine. Don't you say that you're going to strap bombs to your legs and leave me like that." For the first time since that day in Montana, she felt tears prick the corners of her eyes. The plan before the massacre in the tavern was for Wicki, Hugo, and Hicox to go in and be the ones with dynamite on their legs, and Ella had come to terms that her two officers weren't coming out of that theater. But not Aldo. And certainly not Donny.

"Corporal, those are your orders. I won't hear anything else about it."

"Aldo, I ain't got no family except you and Donny. Please don't take both away from me. Let Donny be my escort. You know my Italian accent is better than both of yours."

"What did I just say, Corporal?" Aldo's face was stern, but his eyes betrayed him. He knew full well what he was doing to her. She stared him down, and when the first tear fell from her right eye, he had to look away.

"Yes, sir. Ace, come." Ella brushed past Aldo and took the stairs two at a time to the top floor, making sure to stay away from the window in case police were investigating the tavern. She went into the room where Wicki and Hugo had changed just hours earlier and sat heavily on the bed. Ace hopped up beside her, putting a paw on her leg. She turned to the dog and buried her face in his fur.

Donny

"You just killed her, Lieutenant. You know she'd die for this cause, why are you making her stay behind?" Donny and Aldo were on the main level of the house, waiting for the veterinarian to pull the bullet out of Bridget so they could leave.

"She's got a future, Donny. She's staying, an' that's final." Aldo knew the guilt would eat at him until the day he died - which may very well be less than 24 hours away - but better to sacrifice himself than end her life so prematurely.

"So it's better to take her family away from her? Again? You know perfectly well what happened to her parents."

"Donny, I fuckin' know. She saved my goddamn life when we met, and now it's my turn. She is not going. Now go spend some time with her before we gotta get to business."

Donny shot Aldo a look. "Don't come up unless it's an emergency. She might kill you if you do."


Donny slowly climbed the stairs and entered the room, shutting the door behind him. He had no intention of letting anyone interrupt them. He went to kneel in front of Ella, who had her arms around Ace.

"El, I tried to talk him into it. He won't budge."

"I know he won't," she mumbled. "I wanna rip his head off."

"I don't blame you." He placed his hands on her thighs. "I kinda do too. But he said he wants you to carry on. He said you saved his life, and now it's his turn. Whatever that means."

She sighed. "The day we met, he almost got lynched for killing the sherriff's son. He ran into me running from the mob, so I had him hide and sent them the other way. Took care of his throat and we've been partners ever since. He thinks he's returning the favor but if I live through this war, after tomorrow, I'm going to be alone." She shook her head. "I don't think he gets it."

"He does, El. He knows how hard it'll be on you. But before that happens, he told me to come up here and spend some time with you, and I don't want to talk about that jerk anymore." He cupped her face in his hands. "I've met beautiful women before, and I'm pretty much the one that does the charming stuff. All this handsome, you know. You're a strange woman, Ella Demski, but you've made me fall in love with you, and if I die tomorrow I just want you to know that." He was by no means a master wordsmith, but it was all he had. And Ella understood, because she laid her forehead against his.

"Don't cry, doll. C'mere." He kissed her again, and Ella's stomach fluttered. Without looking she tapped Ace's hindquarters so he jumped off the bed and tugged at Donny's jacket.

"Uh oh, I created a monster," he said huskily.

"I believe you did, Donny." In only a few seconds, his jacket and shirt were gone, thrown somewhere on the floor. He ran a hand up her leg, which Ella had painstakingly shaved the night before going to Nadine. One of her hands ran through his thick hair and pulled ever so slightly. A heady growl came from deep in his chest. He pulled her up to stand and fumbled to get her dress over her head.

"Wait," she said, out of breath. She pulled away from him only for a second, taking the few steps to the door. "Ace, out," she whispered, cracking the door open. The confused dog took his sweet time leaving the room, but she swung the door shut again and felt Donny's arms encircle her from behind. She turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him hard. Goosebumps covered her when he ran his fingertips over her bare skin. They had to make up for a lifetime of passion in one night, an impossible feat, but they were going to try their damndest.