So, now I was walking into my own death. Great. I love that idea. As I sat and watched these boys eat, I couldn't help but to compare myself to them. We are all in the great fight against Germany, to free a once great country from an evil dictatorship.

Mein Vati certainly has a way with words. If you were caught between who to vote for in an election and you listened to his radio broadcasts, there is no doubt in my mind that you wouldn't become a believer. He's good a speaking sure, but the words the come out of his mouth are complete rubbish. He hasn't kept a single promise since my mom died.

Maybe that's why he's a lying prick.

Now was not the time to internally argue my reasons to fight against him. Now was the time to get in there and ruin his regime.

I could feel all of the men in the tent studying me as a devoured my food. It was like I was some caged animal.

Don't tap the glass, you'll scare it!

Whatever. I was just wanting to get this mission done and over with.

I took a final bite and headed back to where Speirs was and we went over some final points before I was sent to get prepped with Webster.

"Now, we just need to know specific locations. If you can eaves drop on them and maybe over hear a conversation on future movement, that'd be nice also, but for a bare minimum, we're begging for locations for troops. I'm going to send you with Webster and he'll get you a gun, just in case," he said, smiling. "Look here," he pointed to a few specific points on the map. "This is the area we need you to stay in."

It was a lot to take in. I nodded. "Okay, what happens if I get caught?" This would be a very possible and horrifying reality considering the odds that were stacked against me.

"Oh," he sighed. "Well, let's hope you don't, but any rate, we will give you a cyanide pill, but that is in a very extreme emergency, like you're waiting to be beheaded or something like that. Otherwise, run." He shrugged his shoulders. There wasn't much he could do.

I was going to go into the enemy's side, with only a pistol, map, and cyanide pill. What a treat!

Speirs casually stood up and left the room. After he left, I stared blankly at the map. What was I to do? I'm only 20. I'm too young to die. I was left with no choice. As I studied each road, I felt the map mocking me, saying I couldn't do it. That I was a strong enough person to handle this. The map was telling me I was going to fail. I wanted to cry right then and there, but that was not an option.

"Hannalore," Speirs shouted from a crack in the door. "Come out here."

I solemnly grabbed the map and left. This was it.

Webster was waiting patiently outside for me. He was stunning. His uniform was only slightly tattered from a few nights ago, otherwise, he looked like he just graduated from basic training. Except his facial hair was almost grown into a full, burley beard. He didn't seem to care as he cradled his helmet on his hip.

"You ready?" he asked, leading me away from the camp, towards a couple of parked jeeps.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I sighed, trying not to let my voice crack. But it did and that caused Webster to stop dead in his tracks.

"Hannalore, don't be afraid," he said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "You will be okay, you're a fighter. That's why you're here. That's why you're making a difference for thousands of people. You need to know that. I know you're career with the 101st airborne is young, but it's bright and shinning. The potential is seeping through already and infecting the men around here. Those who were once lazy and only here because this is 100 bucks a month, have now pulled themselves up by their bootstraps and are ready to fight," he said with passion.

I couldn't help to be amazed. I was just a little drop in the ocean, look at this ripple, and look at this will to fight! Webster's speech instilled hope and belief in me. I was ready.

We continued to walk. Webster kept rattling off mini inspirational speeches, but I had to tune him out. I was ready.

"Now, lucky you, you're getting the best gun in the business. A revolver. She's got a kick, so be wary. Want to take a few practice shots?" he asked, squatting in the back of the truck.

"Sure," I grinned.

He smiled back and hopped from the truck. "Follow me," he mumbled, leading me to the nearby shooting range. I gave her a few shots and practiced quickly reloading. Reloading a revolver was much harder than I had imagined. Maybe that was because my dad never owned a gun like this before.

Luckily, I managed to get shooting and reloading down pretty fast and rapidly. Around the 10th time and 2nd box of bullets, Webster suddenly reappeared but with a tiny little gift.

"Don't take this unless it's absolutely necessary. We need you around here," he said, placing the pill gently into my outstretched hand. I took a brief moment to study it, and then hit it out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind, right? Right.

I placed the pill in the tiny shoulder pocket and buttoned it shut. "Can we head back?" I asked, almost pleading as I unloaded the pistol and tucked it in the back of my pants.

Webster nodded and we strolled back just in time for a quick bite to eat and lessons on how to get information from a captured enemy without using torture.

The class was awfully boring. Harry Welsh was teaching it, so one could assume a boring and rather useless class. I let my mind wander. What if this, what if that, anything but paying attention.

As I was studying the room, I locked eyes with Speirs who appeared bored as well. I flashed him a quick smile and looked back at Harry who was drawing something indecipherable on the chalkboard. After an almost three and a half hour lesson, we were released to relax and go to sleep or stay up and watch some weird American film. I chose to sit on the edge of a nearby hill and watch the sunset, like I used to with Lukas.

The breeze gently rushed across my face, cool my inner nerves. I close my eyes to take in all of the smells. Just as I took in a deep breath, I was startled by a shout.

"Hannalore?" the voice paused. "Hannalore?"

I forced my eyes open and craned my neck around. "Yes?" I asked, very irritated at this point.

"I thought that was you!" the voice shouted, slowly jogging to me. It was Webster.

I focused my eyes back on the sunset and tried to be a good sport. "Hey Webster," I said, plastering a smile on my face.

"I'm rooting for you, and uh, would it be too weird to ask for a hug? I mean, I am a charming spirit and some of my charisma and luck may rub off on you," he asked uneasily.

I stared him down, my face unwavering, while his face went from a half smile to a half frown.

"Yeah, that's okay," I flashed a cheesy smile, hoping the awkward moment between us would be forgiven.

He smiled back at me and wrapped his arms around me. His hugs were eerily familiar, in the way he held me and the way he smelled. The hold was a firm but almost loving hold, both hands right on top of my shoulder blades. Webster smelled of sweet cinnamon, which was an odd smell for a German civilian and even more odd for an American soldier. I took a deep breath.

"Thanks, I needed that," I spilled.

I could feel his eyes wandering and studying my every movement. "I'll be waiting in the morning with a hot cup of coffee for you, right here," he chimed.

I didn't respond.

Webster sat for a brief moment before getting up and walking away.

This was it.