Thank you so much for the kind reviews! Your words make me strive to keep writing about George and Jackie!

As always, I did my best with research about the 9th and the 17th Airborne in Remagen. My apologies if I missed anything or if anything is incorrect.

Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

"Got Joe's brass knuckles?" said Liebgott, giving Jaclyn a hug goodbye.

She grinned. "Yeah, Toye sent them to me from England. Thought I could use them."

"You give them hell for us," said Randleman, chewing on another cigar.

The men around her all took the time to wish her well and a quick hug goodbye. Roe stood by, scowling.

"Eugene," she said softly. "Don't look at me like that. You cleared me and everything."

"Barely," he muttered.

"If it's any consolation," she said, "I promise not to drown this time."

Roe couldn't help it, he grinned. With a kiss on the cheek, he murmured a prayer to her. Her eyes burned at the words. Damn tears. They want to fall all the time now.

Jaclyn placed her pack in the jeep. Her eyes found Luz, immediately drawn to him leaning against the side of the building, waiting for the men to be done. Realizing only ash remained of the forgotten cigarette between his lips, he tossed it to the ground before impatiently searching his pockets for another. "I'll be ready in just a moment," she said to the driver. He nodded.

Jaclyn walked over to Luz, gently taking his hand in hers before pulling him into the foyer of the building. Thankfully, it was empty.

He looked down at their hands. "I know you can't promise to return safely…"

She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed him soundly. She returned to her heels and looked him in the eyes. "I'll return to you."

Luz gave her a lopsided grin. "You'd better." With a sigh, he leaned his forehead against hers, both closing their eyes, just taking a moment to be together in silence. Another breath, and he pulled back, taking her hand in his again. He walked her back outside.

Jaclyn hopped into the jeep, breaking their contact. "Try and be good while I'm gone." Stay safe. Don't do anything stupid.

Luz couldn't help it, he chuckled. "When am I ever good?" Come back to me. I need to tell you something.

She grinned as the jeep began to pull away. "Fair enough." I will. I promise.

March 10, 1945

Remagen, Germany

Lt. General Thomas Harrold walked forward towards the soldiers. Jaclyn walked beside him, listening to his instructions. They stopped near the line, in sight of the town beyond the bridge.

"There's Remagen. We need to cross the Rhine and this is the fastest way to do it," he said, pointing at the bridge. "Luckily for us, the krauts forgot to blow up the damn thing," he added, grinning. "They've since realized their mistake and are actively trying to rectify the situation. This is where you come in."

Jaclyn remained silent, pretending the 9th Armored Division soldiers weren't looking at her curiously. As if they haven't seen a woman before. Damn, I miss my boys. It had been over three weeks since she had left.

Harrold continued, "We've received word that the Germans are using all aspects of their artillery to blow up this bridge and stop us in our tracks. This could mean tanks, airstrikes, you name it. We need to know what they're planning."

He turned to Jaclyn. "We can't let them know what we find out or naturally their plans could change. So your mission isn't to steal, per say, but to take evidence of plans or anything you may find."

Jaclyn was confused. "Sir?"

He held out to her a small, foldable Kodak. "I know it's not ideal and it's a damn pain, but you'll have some time to practice beforehand."

Christ, technology.

March 13, 1945

Jaclyn had to move soon. The krauts had already tried to bomb the bridge with a tank, but stupidly they missed. Jaclyn had to hand it to the Americans. With one shot, they took out the tank, but no one knew what the krauts would try next.

She had learned all that she could about the damn camera. The worst part was that she had to change the film every time she took a picture. She was given pants and a sweater with many pockets to fill her with supplies. Rather have a spot for a gun.

It's true, she couldn't bring a gun with her, but she was used to this by now. Gunfire only attracted more krauts, and she couldn't risk that. She did however, bring her knife.

The trickiest part was going to be crossing the river. She had to travel a few miles north before inflating the small craft and crossing. Harrold was taking no chances with evidence for this one - she had to destroy and bury the boat after she was in. She would not be returning to the other side.

The thought of being stuck in enemy territory, especially if the Americans couldn't cross the bridge, did frighten her. She was a good swimmer, but the river was wide and deep. There was a reason why the troops hadn't tried to cross it.

Nerves started eating her up, but she swallowed them down again. This was the best opportunity the Allies had to get into this part of Germany. Once inside, they could control other entry points until this war could finally end.

A young private, who excelled in photography in his life at home, handed her the camera. She already stowed all the blank film away. He looked at her in awe. "Good luck, ma'am." She nodded her thanks.

Jaclyn began to walk. She had a small, black backpack that held her boat, rations and a canteen. Besides her knife, Toye's brass knuckles, and the camera, she had only one other item - what she liked to call her "muthafucking crossbow." She smiled, thinking of Luz, Toye, and Guarnere. They would like the name.

The mission included sending used film back to Harrold as often as she could. Nightly would be ideal, but whenever she had the opportunity. With this plan, they had the opportunity to send her messages as well.

After walking about an hour, Jaclyn found her crossing point. Two birch trees, intertwined, sat across the river, just like Harrold described. She found some brush to hide in before blowing up her aircraft.

Jesus, I feel like I have pneumonia again. The action took longer than the walk. Finally, it was strong enough to hold her. Night had fallen, and the sky was inky black. It was time to go.

Jaclyn placed the boat on the water, across from the birch trees. Wobbling at first, she finally steadied and laid down on her belly inside. Oars were too much baggage, she had decided. And so she paddled softly across the icy water with her hands.

The boat bumped into the bank on the other side. Quick as lightning, she jumped from it, and tugged the craft up the ground. With her knife, she pierced the rubber, deflating it instantly.

The birch trees held excellent cover as she buried her raft into the ground with the blade of her knife. She checked her watch - 1100. Plenty of time to at least survey the outskirts of town, maybe even take a few photos if she spotted some artillery. And so, she walked, back where she came from, but on the other side of the river.

March 20, 1945

A week had passed. Jaclyn so far had been very successful. She sent photo after photo of artillery and planning correspondence back to Harrold and the 9th. She even found plans of the krauts traveling across the river underwater with strange breathing contraptions.

She had returned to the birch trees, just in time for her scheduled drop at 0400. Sure enough, she saw movement across the river. Wrapping her new evidence in plastic, she placed it in a small bag with twine.

Digging into her backpack, she removed the crossbow. No, that's your muthafuckin' crossbow, Mack, she heard in her head. Memories of Luz and her boys back in Easy had kept her entertained and sane during her time away. It hadn't escaped her that this time last year she relished in solo missions. Now she would give anything to have someone just to shoot the shit with.

Placing an arrow attached to a ring of rope in the chamber, she shot it across the river, the arrow burying itself into the earth on the other side. She sat on the crossbow, steadying the rope. She attached the bag and waited.

A few minutes passed before she felt a tug. Keeping the line taut, she watched the bag of photos move silently across the way as the excess rope pooled out below her from the crossbow.

Once the photographs were taken, she waited to see what would happen next. They would either take the arrow out for her to pull back, or she would feel two tugs, meaning a message was coming back to her. Sure enough, two tugs.

Another two tugs, and the message was ready to pull back across. Once she had it in hand, she tugged it back twice and she felt the rope go slack. She pulled the rope and arrow back into her crossbow for storing.

Once complete, Jaclyn crouched and ran quickly to her daytime hiding place. In the tall grass, she had made a burrow under dead leaves and weeds. Quickly, she dove under, only allowing a small hole for her eyes and for the rising sunlight to shine through. She removed the message to read.

SS. Be careful.

Her heart froze in her chest and her breath quickened. She tried to calm down, but found she couldn't. Finally, she forced Luz's eyes in her mind. Their warm brown color, most often dancing with laughter. Or darkened and still when they looked at her that night after his shave. She felt her breathing slow.

You can handle this, Jackie. No one has spotted you yet. You're going to be fine.

That night, she left her burrow again after risking napping here and there throughout the day. Filling her canteen from the river, she left again for the town once night had completely set in.

This time, she came to the northwest corner of town where she knew a platoon sat waiting. Tonight, however, there were no soldiers. Seizing the opportunity, she crept towards the large building in front of her, knowing it housed intelligence officers.

Hours passed until she was confident it was safe to try and go inside. She knew the basement bunker door had a faulty lock. She was inside within seconds.

Jaclyn didn't dare move until she was sure she could safely. Every ten feet or so, she did this, pausing and waiting until moving again. Eventually, she made her way to the first floor. Silence.

Turning the corner towards the study, she saw her destination in sight. Almost there.

And before she could take another step, everything went black.

Jaclyn's head pounded. When she opened her eyes, her vision was blurred and disoriented. It was a long time before she noticed the man sitting in front of her.

The SS officer smiled. "Hello, beautiful," he said to her in German. "I've been waiting a long time for you to wake up."

March 27, 1945

Sturzelberg, Germany

Captain Nixon stood in front of Easy company, reading the news from home.

"I'm sure you'll all be happy to hear that 'Oklahoma' is still playing on broadway," he said, reading from the list.

As what was expected of him, Luz orchestrated a singalong of the famous theater song. The men around him laughed heartily as the new replacement, O'Keefe, finished it out for them, but the smile from Luz's face soon fell away. His worry for Jaclyn returned. He thought he could fool the guys that he was OK. They knew differently.

"Oh, Rita Hayworth is getting married," said Nixon.

"Rita, say it ain't so!" cried Malarkey, holding his heart.

"Wartime news," added Nixon. They all sat up straighter, hoping for something good. "The German resistance is crumbling. Looks like there may be a breakthrough in Remagen."

Luz perked up at the name of the town. They all did, knowing that's where Jaclyn had headed. Nixon continued, "Apparently the krauts forgot to blow up one of their bridges on their way back over the Rhine. Looks like the boys in the 17th Airborne did OK after all."

Luz left go of the air in his lungs that he didn't know he was holding. They succeeded.

"And our girl," Randleman called.

Nixon grinned, nodding. "Yeah, and our girl."

Everyone around Luz either slapped a hand on his back or squeezed his shoulder. He smiled, relief flooding him.

Nixon looked back down to his list. "The Germans are still fighting strong though. Apparently they took…" He trailed off.

The men looked up. Nixon swallowed hard before looking straight at Luz. "They're still taking prisoners of war, including one they are particularly proud of. A female spy along the Rhine."