January 5, 1945

"Denied."

Jaclyn followed Winters to under the canopy. "Sir, with all due respect, I don't report to you."

Winters turned to her after grabbing something from the makeshift desk. His eyes held a warning. "Actually Officer Mackenzie, right now you do." He handed her a piece of paper.

Her eyes flashed angrily, but she took it and started to read. He watched her carefully, taken aback by her cool demeanor. "Orders from Air Chief Marshall James. You are to stay under my command until further notice. It seems he has his hands full with the Russians."

Jaclyn clenched her jaw before meeting his eyes again. "Then I request a transfer to another company, sir."

Winters sat down and studied her haughty stance for awhile before nodding. "You're in luck. I need someone to work with I company before we attack Foy. The Germans have artillery hidden somewhere on the east side where they are located. We need to know where it is."

She breathed out, unaware she was holding her breath. She nodded. "Thank you, sir. When do I leave?"

"Immediately. A jeep will circle over to I company and you are to infiltrate the enemy from there. Steal what you can, report everything you see." Jaclyn nodded again before saluting him. With a tired sigh, he saluted her back. She turned to go.

"And Jackie?" She paused, looking back. Winters frowned at the coldness he saw in her face. "Be careful."

Jaclyn made her way quickly to her rifle and pack, hoping to slip away unnoticed. Instead she found Perconte and Malarkey where she'd left them yesterday. Perconte had an arm around his friend in comfort, his nose bandaged.

He looked up. "Hey Jackie." He removed the extra peacoat that was acting as a blanket. "Here you go. You left this yesterday." He held it out to her.

"Keep it," she replied abruptly. "I won't need it where I'm going."

Perconte and Malarkey watched her silently as she packed her bag and slung her gun over her shoulder. Right before she turned to leave, she looked at them and her eyes softened a bit. "Sorry about your nose, Frank."

He gave her a small smile. "Don't worry about it. Where you headed?"

"I'm being transferred to I company."

Malarkey spoke for the first time. His voice was hoarse. "You coming back again?"

She tried her damnedest not to care about the broken man in front of her, but her heart won. She leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek and then one to Perconte. "I don't know," she whispered, before getting up and walking away.

Luz found his way over awhile later, his usual carefree face looking troubled. Malarkey, Perconte and Cobb sat together, trying to warm themselves with some coffee.

"Hey, have you guys seen Mack?" he asked, sitting down in the only vacant place between Perconte and Cobb.

They immediately were silent. He looked at each of their faces, skipping quickly over Cobb. Last thing I need right now.

Perconte cleared his throat. "Jesus, we figured you knew, George."

Luz froze. "Knew what?"

Perconte cleared his throat again. "She left about an hour ago. Mission with I." He picked up the coat next to his feet. "Here's her coat. Not sure if you wanted to save it for her. You know, for when she comes back."

If she comes back you mean.

Cobb snorted. "She's probably already shedding her clothes for those yokles across town."

Luz reacted. Pouncing on Cobb, they hit the ground hard. Before Perconte and Malarkey could stop him, he brought his fist down to Cobb's face again and again.

"Jesus, George, let go! Do you want to get yourself court martialed?" cried Perconte. It took both of them to pull him off Cobb.

Luz stood, his breath heaving, but continued to shoot daggers with his eyes to the man on the ground. He waited until Cobb looked up, touching his bloody lip. Luz pointed at him. "If you so much even look at her again, Cobb, so help me God, I swear I will end you."

Cobb sneered, but smirked. "Wonder if you'll ever get the chance to look at her again yourself, Luz. Heard she requested the transfer."

His words were a punch in the gut to Luz, but he didn't falter. With a snarl, he turned away, not sure where he was going, but knowing he had to go before he did something really stupid.

Jaclyn tried not to shiver against the hard wind of the jeep. She thought longingly of her ridiculous peacoat, but that made her think of Luz, so she braved the cold instead. Besides, she really couldn't shoot with that thing on.

The driver got her to the east side of Foy without trouble. She jumped out, immediately attracting attention of the soldiers stationed there. She kept her eyes forward, ignoring their whistles and whispers.

She found the commanding officer quicker than expected. "Sir." Jaclyn stood at attention. "Officer Jaclyn Mackenzie of RAF. Captain Winters sent me over to infiltrate from this side, sir."

Captain John McKnight stood and nodded, knowing that Winters had a female spy for the 506th, but still surprised all the same at the sight of her. She couldn't be a few inches taller than five feet. "Yes, Mackenzie, of course. Thank you for joining us." He held out his hand.

She shook it tightly, before standing rigidly again. Her eyes remained forward. "Well, at ease, Officer. We need to get to work. And you need to get those hands looked at if you're going to help my company."

January 10, 1945

Over the last several days, Jaclyn and McKnight reviewed maps of the town and possible locations of German tanks and artillery. Tonight, she was finally heading into the enemy.

Jaclyn didn't speak to anyone. She was fairly sure they called her "That Bitch from Easy," but she didn't care. A few tried to talk to her, curious since they've heard stories about the crazy British spy, but after shutting them down several times, they eventually gave up.

She found a vacated foxhole and attempted to get warm. She used her pack as a shield from the wind, and eventually her skin seemed to harden against the cold. Her OD jacket became stiff again, almost frozen against her. Her lungs burned, but she only took that as a sign that she was alive.

Hiding in the forest to change, she came back to camp in what Malarkey had described as her "jap ninja" outfit. She was clad in all black again. Lacking grease for her face, she took a moment to rub cold dirt onto her cheeks and forehead.

Feeling eyes on her, she turned to see a small group of young privates staring at her, their jaws dropped. She smirked to herself. Her black sweater was thin, but she could move freely and silently. Maybe if she continued on this trek, she'd be sent to the pacific to fight the Japanese herself. It's good to have goals.

After debriefing with McKnight one more time, she was ready to leave at 2200. Walking awhile through the forest on the side of town, she found a tree that hadn't exploded from kraut artillery. She climbed it as high as she dared. From there, she watched the Germans. Her breathing slowed and her heart stopped racing. She calmly took in what she saw below her before inching her way down and towards her entry point.

She hid behind a squat building near the outskirts of town, waiting and listening. Silently, she moved to the next building, closer towards the center of town. With every move, she memorized what she saw. A machine gun here. A tank there. She had three nights to survey the entire town before the 506th would attack. They needed to know as much as possible.

It was very early in the morning by the time she returned to I company. She woke up Captain McKnight to relay everything she witnessed before collapsing into a foxhole (whose ever it was be damned), and falling into a deep sleep before she had to do it again the next night.

January 13, 1945

Jaclyn had completed her survey of most of the inner workings of the town and its inhabitants. Tonight, as the hours dwindled away, she was to watch for any change and steal any paperwork she could find if she could. The attack was to begin at 0900.

Cake walk, she thought smugly.

She had just snuck through a barn to try and access a main building, when the length of a rifle whacked her under the chin, leveling her to the ground.

She saw stars, but was immediately on her feet. A huge kraut towered over her, grinning. Guess he has no problems hitting a woman. Good for you, big boy.

Jaclyn felt for her knife on her leg, but realized with a jolt that it was missing. She saw a glimmer. He had it in hand, waving it for her to see. Quicker than you look.

Jaclyn waited, gauging his movement. He circled around her, allowing her the first move. She leapt to the right before trying to kick his gut to the left, but he easily caught her leg in his huge hand.

Bending at the waist, she reared up, fingers going for his eyes, but he brought the handle of her own knife down on her forehead, and she saw stars again.

She hung limply by the ankle, idly looking at the hay around her as she tried to find her equilibrium. Why is it always a fucking barn?

The giant grasped her other ankle in his hand, crushing her bones with his thick fingers. She hissed and tried to claw at him again, but he held her away from him.

Figuring they were headed out of the barn to be alerted to officers, her heart began to pound. But that was nothing when she realized they weren't headed outside, but to the far corner of the barn. There stood a water trough.

The kraut kicked the layer of ice on top, cracking it until water broke through. Jaclyn could smell how cold it was. Her blonde hair had fallen from its cap. He slowly let it dance on top of the water, allowing her a good glimpse of her fate.

She struggled again, but her short arms didn't even come close to his body. Throwing her knife to the side (so a quick death was out, huh?), he gathered her wrists in his other hand, effectively pinning them against her back. The oaf grinned toothily at her again before dunking her head and shoulders into the trough.

At first, she could only think how warm a foxhole would be compared to this. A thousand knives pierced her skin, causing her to gasp and take ice water into her lungs. Before she could drown herself, he pulled her up and out again.

Gasping and choking, the cold air of the barn only seemed to burn her cheeks and eyes. Another breath, and he sent her diving into the water again.

This time, she knew what to expect, but that didn't stop her from the pain. Jaclyn had been wounded more times than she'd care to admit, but nothing compared to this torture.

Think Jackie. Think or drown.

At that moment when he dunked her a third time, drowning seemed like an ideal option. The pain would go away. She would hopefully be warm. And she'd finally be at peace.

As he took her from the water again and air filled her lungs once more, Luz's face swam in front of her eyes. Damn it, not now.

But he remained there. She could see his brown eyes dancing with mirth while they watched the John Wayne movie. She could hear his devious chuckle after she wrestled Cobb to the ground again. And she could feel his lips on her hair when he told her that it was OK to be touched, to show affection, to care. George.

The fourth time the kraut dunked her, she made sure to slowly go limp against his hands. She let any remaining air in her lungs to escape and made sure not to breathe in any more water, even when her reflexes demanded air.

Finally, he lifted her out again. She didn't gasp, but took small puffs in through her slightly parted lips, hidden from sight and sound. Her nose dripped water and mucus into her eyes.

She heard him look at her for a long time before dropping her onto the hay next to the trough, satisfied. She landed hard on her side, causing any air inside her to whoosh out. She remained still and silent as he turned from her.

Peeking with one eye, she watched him slowly waddle towards the door. Although she loved seeing the back of him, Jaclyn knew that there was no way he wouldn't tell someone about the little intruder he found in the barn.

Her eyes flicked up to the wall behind her. Hanging there were several farm tools. She silently hopped to her feet, grabbing the two closest, a pitchfork and a small but heavy spade. Crawling up behind him, she dropped the pitchfork into the soft hay before taking the spade into both hands.

She cracked it against his large back, causing him to cry out and bend back in pain. Seeing the opportunity, she cracked the weapon against his skull, dazing him. Again and again, until he fell onto his back, most certainly concussed.

Down but not out. She grabbed the pitchfork next and stood next to him, the cold air burning her water-logged lungs. With all her might, she drove the tool hard into his left upper thigh, piercing the artery there. He cried out in pain, but was still dumbfounded from the attack on his head. Then she went again to the other side, although a little lopsided. She hit his groin and the other artery, but just barely.

Whoops. Always wanted to castrate a kraut. Time to add it to the resume.

Finally, she pierced his gut before throwing the pitchfork to the side. Too much work. She walked over to where he threw her knife and picked it up. Her eyes gleamed with revenge, but in the end, she ended it quick.

After she was sure he was dead, she weighed her next options. Once the adrenaline had left her body, she could hardly stay on her feet. She trembled and chattered. Her lungs still burned and she couldn't take a deep breath without coughing.

She couldn't make it back to I company, that much was certain. The sun was beginning to rise. But she couldn't stay with the dead kraut either. He was too big to hide and too heavy to drag. She decided her only option was to wait. But where?