Hey readers! I hope you're liking the story so far, or at least a much as I am enjoying writing it! Please do let me know what you think, I'm going to try to update as much as I can. :)

Mara slid out of the tent slowly, tired but unable to rest. She sat by the small fire, relishing in the warmth and obviously in deep thought. Donny watched her from a tree not three yards away and wondered what she could be thinking about. He watched her run her hands through her hair and push up the sleeves of her sweater. She looked down at her arm and rubbed lightly over a small part of it, Donny had an idea of what was there.

It was unusual to see a woman like her in the midsts of the war they were in. Donny hadn't seen a woman like her in months, a woman so beautiful but so mysterious it made her possibly more dangerous than the Nazi captain they originally thought she was.

Donny shuffled over to her and she jumped again, only this time she hid it well. He huffed as he sat down near her.

"So you're a limey," he said, trying to bring her from her mind, even if it wasn't the best way to start the conversation.

Mara nodded and then articulated; "British-Jew...I'm not all limey." Donny nodded and said nothing, surprised by her gentle accent. "You're from Boston aren't you?" Donny smiled slightly a confused smile.

"Yeah I am, how'd you know?"

"I visited there not too long ago, the accent is unmistakeable." Mara smiled slightly and toyed with her fingers and Donny wondered why she had been in Boston. But he quickly forgot about it when she started up again. "I apologize for hitting you...and for shooting you." Donny nodded, trying to forget the slight pain he still had in his leg and nose.

He nodded, but did not accept her apology. She didn't expect him to. Mara looked back at her arm and sighed. Donny watched her eyes sadden and he felt himself grow cold despite the fire that was so close to them.

Mara looked up at him suddenly and pulled her sleeves down over her hands. She made a point not to look up at him. Donny sighed, balancing his shotgun across his knees and looking out into the darkness that surrounded them, the trees that seemed comforting but he knew that at any moment there could be a group of Nazi's right behind them. He looked at Mara again even though she did not look back. It was then, though he did not know why, that he finally felt like he trusted her and her story.

Entrapped Jews, they had a look to them. Donny twice had the misfortune to encounter men and women who had been sent to those camps, and just like his Bostonian accent, the look in their eyes was unmistakeable.

"Can I see it?" He blurted out, forgetting himself completely and Mara clinched her jaw and was completely silent for several moments. But then she rolled her sleeve up slowly and displayed the seven numbers on her forearm. 0389421.

Donny's breath caught in his throat and he felt a sudden mix of anger and sadness and helplessness simultaneously as he imagined Mara having to go through each and every one of those horror stories he's heard. He rubbed his hands over his chin and through his hair, feeling chills erupt through his whole body. Donny's fingers traced over the inked scars and had the uncontrollable urge to brutally murder every Nazi that had anything to do with her entrapment.

"How long has it been?" He managed to choke out.

"Since I escaped or when they took me in?"

"Since you escaped."

She was silent for a moment, counting the days in her head. "...About five weeks."

Mara hadn't talked to anyone about what had happened to her in the camp and she felt it terribly difficult to do so, but it also felt comforting to release some of the emotion she'd coveted and built up.

"How long were you there?" Donny asked, curiosity taking hold of his words but he noticed Mara seemed to be more at ease with him.

"I was there for six months. It may not seem like a long time, but most do not make it past the second."

"I've heard stories...awful stories of the shit those fucks do. I almost don't want to believe it...it makes me sick."

"I suppose that is why you are here. It is why I am here, it is why I will be here until the entire Third Reich is extinct, murdered for their merciless and demented crimes." Donny smiled at her. She was like him; a believer, an enforcer. "Donny?" She asked, almost uncertain if that was his name. But he nodded her on, "Do you keep count of the Nazis you've killed?"

Donny chuckled, "No, m'am, that'd be a number too high for me to remember." She huffed in amusement. Humble, she thought, he was slightly humble. "I do, however, keep these..." He unbuttoned the top two buttons of his coat and pulled the strings out by his thumb, "...for the best kills."

Mara looked at them, the pieces of metal glinting silver orange from the fire's light, "Nazi dog-tags..." She grabbed a few of them and ran her fingers over a few of the names, lots of "Sgt." "Col." "Ln." amongst them. She stopped at one. General Dietfried Kramer. Mara sucked in a breath.

"What is it?" Donny looked down at the tag she held.

"You killed this man? Dietfried Kramer?"

"Sure did. Why?"

She cleared her throat and dropped the tag, "Dietfried Kramer was the younger brother of The Beast of Belsen." Donny narrowed his eyes, and she clarified; "Josef Kramer, the...commandant of the camp I was held, Bergen-Belsen."

Donny grew sad but then felt a sort of pride in himself, "He said he worked in the camps—I beat him till his skull was as flat as a pancake."

Mara smiled slightly at Donny, "He got what he deserved...They were a cruel pair. Dietfried was Josef's right hand man. How troubled Josef must be without his brother to do his dirty work." Mara spoke with more spite than he expected from her.

"Dirty work?"

"Killed many Jews that Josef did not like, brought the especially hated ones to him so he could beat them to death...brought women to him...killed most the women after...even did some of the tattooing—did mine in fact."

Donny clinched his jaw and breathed heavily through his nose. If he had known who exactly Diefried Kramer was he would have made him suffer more. Then a thought forged itself into Donny's mind. He didn't want to ask if Mara had been one of the women that was brought to Josef, but the way she spoke with such disdain and sorrow Donny didn't have to ask. He would have felt incredibly invasive if he would have anyway so he kept silent.

He then started with an apology, "I'm sorry—"

"Does your nose hurt?" She asked, trying to see the bruise she'd left behind, interrupting him.

Donny watched her for a moment, "I've had worse..." He trailed off, wondering why she hadn't let him express his empathy with her, Donny didn't usually empathize with anyone. She nodded, leaning back. "You have one hell of an arm though."

"I know." She said, smirking. Donny smirked too, knowing full well she used it to her advantage every moment she got. Mara yawned, running her fingers through her hair. "I'm going for a walk." She stood.

Donny stood, pulling a gun from his belt and threw it to her.

"Don't be too long," She mumbled as she caught it, "and don't wander too far off." Mumbled again and Donny chuckled, standing and walking to the far edge of the small clearing and leaned against a tree, watching Mara hold the shot gun up on her shoulder as she looked up at the night sky. Donny sighed, still uncertain what to think of her just yet. But what he did know was that she was slowly redeeming herself in his mind far from his first impression of her. He still had a strange feeling, but he knew he would have to get over that soon. Aldo had taken a liking to her and they'd be spending the next two months with her amongst the Basterds, so Donny had to get used to her sooner rather than later.