CHAPTER 3
It was around four in morning when they landed in an indescript field not to far from Vichy. Auruo turned off all the engines and lights, and they waited in the plane for a good ten minutes, to see if anyone had noticed them land. Levi held a revolver in his hand, and loaded it, the distinct click resonating in their ears.
"I'm going to scout the surroundings." he declared, jumping out. Landing softly in the high grass, he walked towards the empty field, without a second glance back. There was no doubt amongst these men that he would come back, and even Eld Gin didn't seem like he was expecting to take Levi's place in case he wasn't going to come back.
They all sat in suspenseful silence, not daring to say a word. Petra even held her breath without noticing at times, as if giving a soft sigh would alert the opposition of their presence. It was heart-hammering, despite the fact that all they were doing was sitting in a plane that had its engines shut off, to even be there.
As if to make herself feel better, Petra reached her hand onto the handle of her revolver that was strapped onto her. She didn't realize her fingers were quivering until Gunther pulled her hand from it, as if to tell her not to worry.
A half hour later, Levi returned, with a group of people trailing behind him. "Resistance members." he said in explanation.
The dense air of fear and suspense was broken, and they all hopped out of the plane, meeting the rest of the party that Levi had brought over.
A girl, certainly younger than Petra, gazed at them, her eyes meeting every single one of theirs, until they rested on Petra. "What were you thinking, wearing that?" she spat, in a heavy french accent. Her finger pointed to her WAC uniform, and silently, Petra cursed herself.
She sighed, turning Petra around roughly, and studied it. "It will be impossible to get a fresh set of clothing at the black market without raising some suspicion, especially when the clothing I would be requesting would be at least three sizes too small." The girl turned towards the closest member beside her, and in muffled french whispered, "We'll have to make use of it, then burn the rest."
Petra stiffened slightly. She was rather fond of her uniform, but it had to be done.
The members took the five of them to a farmhouse about a mile away, while a couple of
other members contemplated how to secure the plane and make sure that it wouldn't be seen by some wandering eyes.
The girl lit a cigarette as they began their marche, exhaling puffs of smoke, marking her exhales with distinct grey clouds, contrasting the cold white breaths of the others. Then, as if preparing herself for something, she took a draw longer than the others, and turned around to face the rest of them, backpedaling. "I expect all of you to behave while you're here. I have no time for idiots that will give me and my people away. We have fought too long to die." Beat. She took another suck at her cigarette. "I'm the leader of this particular movement, and I'm expecting this team to be efficient, and willing to help. We can't risk having any more resistance members being killed, especially after the last incident." she shot a sharp accusing look at Captain Levi, who gazed back at her, bored.
"It wasn't my fault, Jeanne." he retorted back in French. "And they weren't even killed. We rescued them, while you sat in the corner, bawling."
Jeanne's cheeks turned red with fury. "You are in no position to discuss what happened. And let me remind you that you're the reason why our last cover was blown." she let out a broken laugh, and took a swig of her cigarette. "I'm surprised they even let you back here!"
Petra wasn't sure if they knew that she could understand, but she kept her eyes on the grass folding beneath her feet, not wishing to interrupt the two leaders. Levi fell silent after the last thing she said, and what are you supposed to think when your superior can no longer uphold their fight?
Jeanne, sensing her bitter victory, turned her back to them once again, and picked up her step. "Hurry up, fools. I like freezing my ass off here as much as you do."
They arrived at the old farmhouse, situated in the outskirts of the capital of Free France, a looming shadow in a grand, empty field.
Jeanne brought them inside, opening the back door to a rustic type kitchen, and lit the flames of a large brick fireplace. It was hardly any warmer than it was outside, but at least they were protected from the wind. Petra appreciated the house, and despite her being on a foreign mission—in nazi territory, mind you—she couldn't help but indulge in the, frenchness of it all. It was nice being an american in France.
Captain Levi took note of the kitchen, then glanced back over at Jeanne. "It's hardly changed," he murmured in french.
"Trust me, it looks much different when it is not so dark in here." she stoked the fire, her back turned towards the group. She cast a long shadow along the dark kitchen floor, and the elite team couldn't help but notice how eerie this place was—like a shell of what this home probably was before the war.
The silence unnerved them all, and as if sensing it—though who didn't?—Eld clapped his hands together, bringing back everyone's attention.
"So, Jeanne, it is, right?"
"But of course," she growled.
"Is there any other members you have living here right now that could help us with, um, moving the plane?"
"I have sent the other three that were with us at first—I suppose you wouldn't have noticed—to go take care of that little… problem. They're bringing it to the field near here and are painting it over—the Germans will notice nothing."
"Ah, that's… just fine!" Eld replied. The lieutenant glanced over to Auruo and Gunther, who both looked slightly pained at the news of their plane getting painted over.
"But there's not need!" Gunther blurted out suddenly.
Jeanne snapped her head towards him, sending chills down his spin.
"And why ever not?"
"It's a Siebel Fh 104! It is German, they will never question its presence!" Auruo declared, helping out his fellow pilot, Gunther nodding beside him.
"What, you still hold soft sentiments for the germans?" she scoffed, pointing at Gunther. He blanched immediately, and bowed his hand down, as if ashamed by her accusation. Then she gave a sharp stare to the rest of the team, as if staring into each of their souls. Finally, she gazed over at their Captain. He leaned against the wall nonchalantly, hardly noticing the commotion his fellow frenchwoman was stirring up amongst his team members. "I didn't realize you trained your soldiers so poorly, Levi." she spat.
Levi turned his head towards the rest of the slowly, assessing the present situation, and smirked, taking to the doorway, "As always, Jeanne. Officers, follow me to your room assignments."
"But there is no need, for I will show them. Retire for the night, Captain." Jeanne saluted him with her cigarette, and pushed past him, motioning for the rest to follow.
Loyal as ever, however, the officers glanced at their commanding officer, asking for his permission to follow the young résistante, moving into the rest of the house at his nod of approval.
The foreigners trooped behind Jeanne, who led them through the darkened rooms, lighting up the hallway lamps that hung on the walls. She walked in complete silence, not making any attempt at small talk with them, and did nothing but fulfill her duty of showing them to their rooms, despite having fought with the captain to perform this task.
"Officer Ral, you're all the way down there, and everyone else, you each get one of those three rooms. Lucky for you, this is a big house. So if you want to have sex with one another, just be quiet since we'll still be able to hear you."
All four of them simultaneously blanched, and Petra turned furiously pink. "Jeanne, we're all close—we're a team—but we're not that close."
Shrugging, she lit what must've been her third cigarette, and left them all standing in the hall. "It was an assumption, but I meant no offence. We are in war, and people crave company."
They stood in utter shock and silence, taking in both the truth and obscenity of what their host had said.
"That Jeanne is quite the character," Gunther muttered under his breath.
"Oh Schulz," Auruo chided, "Don't tell me you were considering paying her a visit later tonight."
"I—" Gunther stiffened, then hunched over in defeat, picking a room at random, and slamming the door.
"Auruo, you fool." Erd shook his head, and took his own room too, quickly followed by a blabbering Scot.
Petra smiled at the bickering of the three men she realized she would be spending the rest of the war with, most likely.
"Officer Ral."
Her head whipped around at the sound of her name, and she encountered Jeanne, standing on the stairs that led to the second floor. "I hope you have not forgotten about your little… outfit business."
Returning her tired expression with a warm smile, Petra made her way down the stairs, following her back to the kitchen. "Not at all."
"Jeanne, I hope you two realize that this is all pointless." Petra immediately jumped when she heard the monotone of her Captain, her knees hitting the bottom of the table they were working at, despite her short stature.
"Captain, it's simply that—"
"At ease Officer Ral, I was not addressing you."
"The girl speaks french?! And you neglected to tell me this!" Jeanne rapidly spit back at the french captain.
He shrugged, and brushed it aside as he took a seat on a stool, smoking his cigarette. "This is exactly why I always tell you to read the documents that you're given."
He took a long exhale, blowing a puff of grey smoke into the surrounding air.
"With all do respect, Capitaine, I refuse to be accused once more of being mal-informed to make up for your mistakes. If you'll excuse me, Officer Ral, I will be retiring tonight." And with that, Jeanne stormed out of the kitchen, purposefully pushing past Levi.
Petra watched the scene unfold between the two, never uttering another word since the captain hushed her. She didn't expect any other type of conversation with the captain as well, given his reserved disposition, which was exactly why she jumped again at the start of his voice.
"God, you get easily scared don't you—try to learn to control it when we start going into the field Ral, it makes one suspicious of you no matter the verdict." he sighed, brushing his fingers through his hair in exasperation.
He sucked in a breath of cigarette, and sighed the smoke out, Petra's gaze always fixed on the man. He glanced up, meeting her eyes, and stood up from his stool. "Go to bed, Officer Ral. It will be a long day tomorrow. And don't worry about your clothing, I'll take you to the Black Market when Jeanne decides to stop being such an idiot."
Petra gave him a soft smile, and thanked her superior—receiving no reply from the stoic man besides a stiff nod—leaving him in the kitchen for her bedroom upstairs.
Despite its initial haunted feel, more people started to fill the house within a few hours, even though the sun had not fully risen yet. Jeanne had efficiently helped Petra tear up her lovely uniform, but they were unable to fashion anything that didn't have that distinct military feel about it.
Within a few hours Petra sat at the kitchen table still wearing her green WAC skirt and a button up, nearly falling asleep despite the rising din in the farm house. She had always been a heavy sleeper, but what did she expect—there was no way she'd be following her typical sleep schedule running around Europe with her team.
By the time the three other men woke up, most of the resistants were already leaving the french farmhouse for the capital, having finished final preparations—last minute newspaper printing, assembly of equipment—while the newcomers were still sleeping. They watched lazily, feeling certain pangs of guilt that all they could do was watch the french people go risk their freedom tearing apart german propaganda sheets from the stone walls of the city. For the time being, however, that was all they could do. The elite squad would be doing nothing but waiting for further instruction from their superiors. In a sense, they were grounded in Vichy, and were mooching off of the French for the time being.
The five of them gathered at the wooden table set in the kitchen, sipping from mugs of warm water as their Captain—at the head of the table, quite obviously—sat down. The mood was a looming sort of boredom and exhaustion, nobody doing more than making small talk and giving the occasional glance out of the window.
Petra herself carried a soft smile, as if to convince herself that none of this was that terrible, and eventually the undertones of happiness carried over to the three other men who became slightly brighter when the young american sat down at the table, joining the rest of them.
Their Captain didn't speak momentarily, smoking a cigarette despite it being so early in the morning. The house had once again become silent with all of the resistants gone, besides perhaps Jeanne who was dealing with other matters. The members of the squad sat in near silence, fidgeting, and playing with their mugs while awaiting their superior's instructions.
They broke pieces of bread from a baguette sitting in the middle of the wooden table, noting how it was slightly stale, and sipping from their emptying mugs until their Levi finally stubbed his cigarette, sighing.
"A report every night on the resistants progress." Captain Levi dictated, not wasting any time on useless banter. "Following direct orders from the General you'll each be split up into small groups with the resistants. Schulz, you'll be working with newspaper distribution, Bossard with the transportation and militant training network, Ginn with strategy and counter offense, and Ral, you'll be working with Jeanne in overseeing matters."
"Other than that," he said, pulling out another cigarette, "We won't be doing anything until the bastards decide that we won't just be stupid poster children." Taking a drag, he sighed out, almost in exasperation, "Dismissed… Except, Ral." he pointed a lazy finger towards her, the other men stopping the grating of their chairs, all thinking to themselves: How did the american already fuck up?
"You, stay."
Petra, overrun with slight fear and languidity, nodded, and took her seat back at the table, sitting to Levi's right side. The other men grinned at each other, amused by the petite yankee. Eld gave her a soft punch in the shoulder as he walked out, giving her a look that said: Knock him dead.
God, what was up with these guys?
"Ral, I've informed Jeanne that you will not be gracing her with your presence today. We both agreed that your… uniform situation should be dealt with immediately. We leave for the black market in ten minutes. Don't. Be. Late."
AUTHOR'S NOTE
Dear all, I realize this chapter wasn't exactly the best—I've been feeling kind of stuck (in rapport to writing) but hopefully this will just be like a kind of hiccup.
Thank you for following and favoriting this story, despite me sucking and not updating frequently. Sometimes I think about rewriting this chapter, but based on my track record, that statement is already flying out the window.
Tiffany7879: Lol, yeah. There's always that running joke about how Levi is secretly French (because of like Rivaille) so yeah! I always imagined that Petra and the boys had a great relationship too—familial and all.
To Guest and jenna: Thank you!
Also I just wanted to say that I watched Whiplash the other day, AND IT WAS INCREDIBLE. I AM LITERALLY OBSESSED.