September 18, 1944
Nuenen, Holland
Peter, Johan and Jaclyn arrived on the outskirts of Nuenen a few hours before daylight. Peter pulled the wagon to the side of the road, quickly murmuring to the horse to quiet.
"We meet the farmer and his family here. They should arrive momentarily," said Peter, looking at his watch.
Seemingly only a moment later, they heard the crunch of dried grass in front of them and then a whispered, "Koe."
"Kip," whispered Peter back. Then Jaclyn saw a young family emerge from the shadows. Peter jumped down to speak to Nick, the farmer. Jaclyn looked at the young woman's face and gave her a slight smile. The woman nervously smiled back. Jaclyn's gaze landed on the boy, who remarkably looked a lot like Johan. He didn't smile at her.
Peter came back to the wagon. "OK, we are all set. They'll take the wagon and leave for safety in Eindhoven. We will walk while it's still dark to the farm. The Germans are expecting you tomorrow at 1200."
Jaclyn nodded, jumping from the wagon. Johan followed, and she soon felt his tiny hand enter hers. She squeezed his fingers reassuringly. We are going to be OK.
Arriving to the farmhouse was always the easy part. Knowing the exact location, they snuck in and took turns napping until mid-morning.
Nearing the lunch hour, Jaclyn attempted to brush her long, blonde hair with what little tools Tessa left her. She was to be a farmer's wife, so a little wear and tear was normal, but she knew that if she looked her best, the Germans may not look past her pretty face.
At quarter to twelve, she gathered a basket of cheese, bread, and cured meat before heading outside with Johan. He held her other hand, which she found clammy with sweat. She looked down at him and smiled, attempting to pass along some of her bravery.
They set out for the mayor's house, where the kraut officers were staying. She knocked on the door after a moment's hesitation. The door opened to find a young private. He looked her up and down, grinning. "What can I do for you, miss?" he asked in German.
"My son and I have brought lunch for the officers as was instructed, sir," Jaclyn replied in a broken mix of German and Dutch. She played her nerves up, widening her eyes and demurely lowering them to the ground.
The private huffed, annoyed that her German was so terrible. "Bring it in then. The boy stays out here."
Jaclyn nodded modestly, turning to the boy. "Johan," she said in Dutch. "Go play outside, darling. Meet me back here in an hour." Johan nodded, removing a yoyo from his pocket. He walked away down the lane and around town.
So far, so good, thought Jaclyn as she followed the German inside. She prayed Johan would be safe, but he knew the streets of this town like the back of his hand after his careful training.
The kraut led her to the second floor and into a large dining room with huge chandeliers and crystal centerpieces. The private announced her arrival and motioned to the basket in her hands after saluting the officers.
The lead officer at the head of the table lazily saluted him back and then waved him away with his hand. When his eyes caught Jaclyn, he stopped. Keeping her eyes to the floor, she could see his feet walking towards her.
"What a pretty little thing you are, my dear," he said in German. He put a finger under her chin and raised her eyes to his. He towered over her and he stunk of liquor. "That farmer has been hiding you from us, but now I can see why." His hand moved to caress her hair, twisting strands with his fingers. "I doubt he minds sharing."
"Adalbert, leave her alone. Let her prepare the food. I'm starved," said another officer.
The man named Adalbert smiled at her before stepping back. "Do you speak German, girl?" he asked, his tone changing.
Jaclyn lowered her eyes to the floor again. "Very little," she squeaked, making sure to emphasize Tessa's thick Dutch accent. He sneered, but nodded. He waved a hand towards the serving table, dismissing her.
Over the next hour, she cut and served the bread, meat and cheese to the German soldiers. She filled their glasses with whatever they requested, and she even sang a Dutch lullaby at the request of one drunken officer.
But Jaclyn also listened. They didn't say much today in front of her, but she didn't expect them to. She had three more days to try and thieve what she could before Easy headed in.
After the hour was complete, she was dismissed. Jaclyn hurriedly went outside with her empty basket with instructions to bring more tomorrow and to fetch some wine from the local merchant. Johan was waiting outside, still playing with his yoyo.
Silently, she took his hand and together they walked back to the farmhouse and to Peter. Together, they would share what they each found, whether it was inside the room with the officers, or the locations of soldiers and weapons around town.
September 21, 1944
Three days later, Jaclyn was just finishing up lunch for the krauts. As she cleared away their dishes to the serving table, she allowed herself a satisfied smirk. Today they spoke in detail regarding plans for their next moves, where they should go next, and the strength of their regiments. They didn't think of the shy Dutch girl that barely spoke German.
Lost in thought, Margaret didn't feel him behind her until he was pressed against her. She gasped, startled. She tried to turn around, but he kept her pinned between him and the table. "Such beauty," she heard Adalbert whisper, his breath reeking of wine.
She saw his hand move from the corner of her eye. It lowered to the top of her chest before disappearing under the lining of her dress. He roughly cupped one of her bare breasts in his hand. "But so small. In Germany, our women have giant breasts, bigger than you can hold in one hand." He squeezed her hard, digging his fingers into her flesh.
Jaclyn tried hard to remove any emotion from her body. The pain from his hand caused her to gasp again, but she didn't pull away. To fight back now would be suicide. She allowed him to continue to grope her, until finally, thankfully, he grew bored and removed his hand. He moved his lips to her ear, whispering, "Tomorrow, I'll see what I can find under your skirt. But you'll dance for me first, sweetheart. I want to see you want it." She couldn't help herself this time, she shuddered. And I want to watch your face when I cut off your cock and feed it to you, dear.
She felt his satisfied smirk without having to turn around. Gathering her empty basket, she turned and left the room. Rushing outside, Johan sat waiting for her as usual. She sighed in relief, grabbing his hand. They only had a few hours before Easy would attack.
Johan and Peter had relayed the locations of German soldiers and weapons back to Easy every day since they had arrived. Peter would leave in the night and return before she awoke. Arriving at the farmhouse, Jaclyn knew something was wrong right away. Peter wasn't there.
After quickly searching the house and the barn, Jaclyn knelt in front of Johan. "You're going to have to hide for me. Can you do that, Johan? Just until I find Peter?" Johan's eyes widened, but he nodded. "You know this town better than me. Where is a safe place to hide? We shouldn't stay here."
Johan thought a moment before answering. "The church. I heard the soldiers say that they didn't have enough men to fortify it. There's a back entrance covered by tree branches."
Jaclyn nodded. "Is it far?" The boy shook his head. "Then go to it. Now." She kissed his forehead. "I'll come for you." Johan nodded and left without another word.
Jaclyn sat down, trying to think of where Peter could be. He wasn't supposed to leave the farmhouse during the day, in case the commanding officer were to return and see that he wasn't Nick. Unless he came to pay Nick a visit.
With a stone of dread in her stomach, Jaclyn rose and entered the bedroom. Retrieving a spare belt from Nick's dresser, she returned to the kitchen and picked up the sharpest yet shortest knife she could find. She placed a foot on the table in front of her, hitching her dress up.
Carefully, she double looped the belt around her thigh, securing the knife in place on the outside. Lowering her leg, she allowed her dress to fall back down again. Confident that her weapon didn't show, she quietly left the building.
Starting with the perimeter of the barn, she didn't find any clues. She dashed across the yard and to the neighbor's house, which she knew was vacant. Turning the corner towards the back yard, she spotted a few drops of blood. Following it, she soon found Peter.
He laid on his stomach, a single bullet hole in his back, right through the heart. Jaclyn didn't have to turn him over to know that he was dead.
Her heart hammered in her chest. What now? she screamed to herself. Before she could answer, a hand locked around her neck and covered her mouth. An arm, looped around her middle, picked her up from the ground.
"How about that dance, sweetheart?" she heard Adalbert in her ear.
Jaclyn's eyes widened as he kicked down the back door to the neighbor's house and dragged her inside. He threw her in a chair before smirking. "Looks like we won't have to worry about that husband of yours, after all. I heard that the captain had to dispose of a farmland imposter. I, of course, had to come see for myself if my lady needed assistance."
Jaclyn stared at him, judging her next move. She felt the knife still in place against her thigh.
Adalbert smirked again. "You look to be a fighter. I have to say that this isn't good news for you, my pet." He paused, his smile widening. "I like fighters."
He turned from her to pour himself a drink, his arrogance so thick, he didn't think twice about turning his back on a farmer's wife. Wrong move, bastard, she thought a moment before silently drawing out the knife.
Climbing the chair, Jaclyn pounced from it and onto his back, digging her nails into his left eye. He screamed, dropping the bottle of brandy for a moment before she plunged the knife into his neck with her right hand, hitting the artery directly. Blood poured from the his wound as she removed the knife, soaking her face and neck.
Adalbert's mouth gaped open, trying for air, as he twisted and dropped from his feet. She watched him fall, a sneer on her face before pouncing again. She straddled his chest, bringing her face close to his. "Burn in hell, asshole," she murmured in perfect German. She stayed like that, watching the life leave his eyes until they turned dull.
It was several minutes before Jaclyn stood up, her mind blank. Finally, she remembered. Johan. She placed the knife back in its makeshift holder, hardly noticing the blood on her dress. She looked around outside before closing the door behind her and running back along the backyards and through the trees towards the church.
It must be close to three, the scheduled arrival time for Easy to attack. She had to get to a safe place, and the church was her best bet. No doubt Johan mentioned in his notes that the Germans weren't planning on using the building.
Jaclyn crept along the brush, hiding where she could and running quickly when she couldn't. Finally, she was behind the church, in the cover of thick trees.
She surveyed the area, until confirming that it seemed safe. Right when she was about to run up, she noticed a shape on the top step of the rear entryway. She felt herself go cold.
Not caring about cover anymore, Jaclyn walked over to Johan, who laid dead. His eyes stared directly at her, and for awhile, she could only stare back, frozen in her spot. Finally, she moved forward to brush aside hair from his face. I'm so sorry, she whispered silently. She felt tears build in her throat.
A knife stood from his back, and she quickly removed it, adding it with the other. Picking up his body, she realized again how young he must be as she walked into the open door of the church.
She laid him down on the altar floor and placed his head in her lap. Closing his eyes with her hand, she let out a shocked sob. Get close, get hurt.
Jaclyn was about to give herself into the pain and cry when she heard shots ring out from across town. Easy had arrived.
She leaned her head against the altar, praying for their safety, for them to kill all the krauts and find her. She was just about to close her eyes and wait with Johan, when she heard the sounds of a sniper rifle above her.
Waiting for a few more shots to confirm, Jaclyn gently lifted Johan's head from her lap and placed it back on the floor. She stood up silently, finding the steeple's staircase and started to climb. At the top, she peered through the open door. A kraut sat there with his back to her, shooting out the window, oblivious to her arrival.
Without making a sound, she removed the two knives and tiptoed towards him. She tried not to notice Johan's blood on the military knife, but knowing that it would soon put an end to his killer made the tarnish almost revere the boy.
In a split second, Jaclyn slashed both knives across the soldier's throat. He was dead before he even knew he was dying. Pushing him aside with her foot, she sat down in his chair and took hold of the rifle.
Through the scope, she took in the chaos below her. Easy was losing. A kraut tank must have just blown away the British one that was smoking in front of her. Goddamn cautious bastards. Knowing her countrymen, they didn't take the first shot.
She spied three platoons of American troops, one in the rear with mortars, while the other two started to retreat from the town. Knowing that she would soon be alone, she started to fire.
Trying to stagger her shots, she went for kraut after kraut. She couldn't let them know where the sniper was coming from, but waiting minutes in between shots was torture. She was bloodthirsty for revenge, and killing those two soldiers so far didn't cut it. She needed to save her friends.
She was able to take out five Germans before she quickly disabled the gun, taking it apart. Keeping a main piece with her for safety, she made her way down the stairs and out through the back door. She threw the piece of gun into the trees.
From there, she watched as Easy retreated. For some reason, she didn't panic about being left behind. She's had to fend for herself before in enemy territory. Only time would tell if she could do it again.
The sun was beginning to set. The Americans were almost gone, so the gunfire wasn't as rapid. Running as fast she could, she made it back to the farmhouse. Knowing they were likely to check the houses, she made her way into the barn.
Being small sometimes had its advantages. She moved to a well lit nook with a lot of hay, knowing they'd check the dark corners more thoroughly. Digging herself down onto her belly, she easily covered herself with hay, making sure to hide every inch except leaving a small gap for her eyes. Then, she waited.
Jaclyn didn't know what she waited for, but she knew she wasn't safe as Tessa anymore. Not after Peter was killed. Not after they find Johan's body. No, it was better if the Germans thought she fled.
Hours must have passed by, but still her eyes didn't move from the door. Her body cramped up, but she didn't dare move a muscle. The bloody knives on her thigh itched like crazy.
Suddenly, she heard the rustling of feet and the barn door opened quickly and then closed again. She saw the soldier struggle to an empty pen, covered in shadows. His breathing was ragged and heavy; he must be injured.
Jaclyn weighed her options, deciding to stay put for as long as she could. Think I've had enough rough and tumble for one night. She heard the soldier grunt again and hiss. Yep, definitely injured. A moment later, he leaned towards her, his face visible in the moonlight. It was Sergeant Bull Randleman.
Before Jaclyn could alert him to her presence, she froze. Voices of several Germans were coming towards the barn. They planned on searching it. She saw Randleman crawl back into the shadows from the corner of her eye.
Four krauts entered barn, laughing together about the victory. They broke into two groups, one headed towards Randleman and one towards Jaclyn. She prayed they both weren't found, knowing it was unlikely, especially with Randleman's size.
Sure enough, she heard a German shout and a grunt from Randleman. The two nearest her turned their backs on her and towards the ruckus. She lunged.
She immersed the first knife into the side of the neck of one kraut, before turning and slicing the other knife across the throat of the other, effectively silencing both. Blood spattered across all three of them before she grabbed her knives again.
The sounds of pained sighs and falling bodies caused one kraut to turn towards her and away from Randleman. Sucker, she thought briefly, before kicking his legs from underneath him. She slid the knife into his belly before he even had a chance to lay his finger on the trigger of his rifle. His eyes bugged out in pain. She slid the knife out and into his chest again.
She stood, walking calmly to the fourth kraut. He saw her, shocked, and fumbled with his gun. Seeing the opportunity, she grabbed his rifle, pulling him along with it. She cracked her head against his, before twisting him from the gun. She threw it aside.
Kicking him hard in the diaphragm, he lost all the air from his lungs and curled up on the ground, gasping. She knelt on one knee next to him. She waited for his eyes to find hers, before slicing his throat.
Jaclyn stood, the third German still dying slowly by her feet. She heard Randleman get up slowly from the ground, his eyes wide as he took her in. She was covered in blood and hay.
"Jackie?" he croaked.
Her eyes found his and she gave him a humorless smile. "Hey, Bull."