Essen, Germany – February 1941

The bell above the door rang, signaling the arrival of a customer. A man entered, decked in the uniform of a soldier of the Wehrmacht, the helmet under his hand.

"Guten Tag!" shouted the bartender from behind the counter. "What can I get you?"

"Guten Tag. Just a beer, bitte." He took the seat closest to the door, just in case an emergency forces him to run out.

Sitting two seats away from him was a woman, whose presence was a stark contrast to the simple interior of the pub. Blonde hair, blue eyes, fair skin. She was the perfect image of a true German woman. She wore a bright red skirt with a white shirt with long sleeves on top. Drinking a glass of liquor at the bar, she looked like one of those beautiful women in American movies.

"Who's that?" he asked the bartender when his beer arrived.

"I don't know myself. First time I've seen her."

He took a sip of his beer. It was average fare, good enough for an afternoon break. His attention was completely on the woman near him, whose looks seemed to be too good for this setting. He had about an hour for a break. Maybe he should make a move. A young, dashing soldier like him at wartime, with light brown hair and a strong, masculine face. Who wouldn't want him? But even so, he hesitated. Should he move, should he not? Just as he was lost in hesitation, she spoke up first.

"Good weather, isn't it?" she said out of the blue, looking not at him but behind him at the bright sunlight bathing the street.

"It is." He took this as a signal, and decided the answer was move. "What's a dame like you doing at a place like this at this time of day?"

"Can't a lady have a drink? You're having one too."

"But of course. I meant no disrespect. It's just unsettling that there's such a beautiful lady at a modest establishment such as this. Are you perhaps an actress?"

"Oh, and what makes you say that?"

"You certainly look like one."

"What about you? Are you a soldier?" she said, smirking.

"Yes, I am. But how did you know?"

"Lucky guess." She sipped her drink and turned her attention back to the bar, looking at nowhere in particular.

"May I sit closer?" he asked, making sure to sound as polite as possible.

"I don't mind, Mr. Soldier." She smiled, and that smile made him move as fast as possible to the seat next to her.

"The name's Niels."

"Eva."

They spent the next few minutes in lively and flirty conversation. During that time, he kept his eyes on her. Shapely legs, delicate arms, red lips. She was like a dream come true to him. And then as abruptly, his image of her seemed to shatter as she stood up from her seat, put down a few bills, and gathered her things.

"Are you leaving?" he said, his heart sinking.

But then she came close and whispered in his ear.

"My hotel is not far from here. Room 212. I'll be waiting."

He did not know when she left, because his entire being froze. He couldn't believe his luck. He was going to spend an afternoon with such a woman? But he had only around fifty minutes left. Could he make it? But chances like this don't come often. To hell with it, he thought as he paid for his beer and walked as fast as he could to the hotel.

Climbing up the stairs to the second floor, he roamed the corridors looking for the room number. When he found it, he stood in front and tidied up his hair and shirt. Then, he knocked. She told him to come inside. He found the door unlocked, and slowly opened it. Closing it behind him, he hesitantly walked into the room where she was sitting seductively on the bed, smiling – no, smirking – at him. And then he felt the cold end of a gun on the side of his head.

"Skipping work now, are we?" said the man at the other end of the gun. His face was hidden in the darkness of the unlit backroom under a hood. "Quite the pervert, aren't you?"

"2 p.m.," Jan said, checking the clock. "That's about an hour from now."

"Hmm…" Lutz rubbed his chin as they looked out onto the street. "To think that the delivery was today. Just our luck. Well, there's no going around it. We'll have to seize it today."

They turned around and walked back to the bathroom where the soldier was tied up, his face bloodied from the beatings Elisabeth had given him.

"W-w-what? What do you want?" he said through his bruised lips, alarmed. "I've told you everything I know. Please, don't kill me."

"Well, we'll find out. Jan, Elisabeth, rendezvous with Kevin and secure the weapons. We can't win this war if we don't have weapons and ammunition. I'll stay here and keep watch over our little friend," Lutz ordered, before turning back to the soldier.

"We'll know soon enough if you told us the truth. If I find any indication that you didn't, I'll put a bullet through you myself."

Exiting the building, the two made their way to a nondescript car waiting outside the armoury. Kevin sat at the wheel, his eyes trained on the heavy metal gates guarded by a squad of soldiers.

"The delivery's coming today at 2 p.m.," Jan told him.

His eyes widened in surprise. And then he signed.

That's what the guard said?

"Yes." They had spent the last six months training together, and during that time Jan had learnt the sign language Kevin used. He was surprised to learn that a sign language is not the same as a spoken language that just simply uses signs. It has its own grammar and sentence structure even. Jan's skill in forming sentences was still basic, but his understanding was far better.

Then let's start, he signed.

He started driving away from the armoury and stopped at their predetermined pickup point. As Jan and Elisabeth left the car, Kevin drove away. And then they waited. But it didn't take long before a truck stopped in front of them. They went into the back, and the truck resumed its drive.

There were two sets of uniforms. Although they were slightly bloodied around the collar, they were still wearable. As they had to change before they arrive, they stripped down at the covered back of the truck. Jan was a bit nervous since Elisabeth was changing right behind him, although he made sure not to turn around until she said something first. When she did, he turned around.

Her body was a bit too small for the uniform, but she would just pass for a soldier as long as she didn't talk and didn't make eye contact. The truck stopped again, and this time Jan went out of the back and went into the passenger seat next to Kevin. He'd have to do the speaking for them, otherwise the Nazis would get suspicious.

They continued their journey and reached the gate. When they stopped in front, a guard approached Jan and gave a Nazi salute. Jan responded in kind.

"Who are you? Where's Alois?" asked the guard.

"Fahrer Arne Rodenburg! Alois is out sick. Sore throat."

The guard stared at Jan, trying to figure him out. But Jan kept his gaze firmly on the guard's eyes, not even glancing away for a second. This seemed to work, as the guard stepped back and allowed them to go in. The gates opened in front of them, and Kevin drove them in.

They parked the truck at the only warehouse with opened garages. Inside was a motley of different types of crates and boxes, all filled with weapons, explosives, ammunition, and spare parts. A thin soldier with an arrogant face and glasses resting as his nose came towards them, holding a sheaf of papers in his hand.

"Truck 44, aren't you?" he said, flipping the papers. "Rifles, ammunition, and grenades?"

"Ja, mein Herr!"

"A bit late, aren't you?"

"Apologies, sir. Had to step out for a bathroom break."

"Tsk. Make sure you're not late the next time or I'll file a report on you myself." He gestured to the men inside the warehouse to move the crates and boxes into the truck.

Jan and Kevin helped them move the heavy weapons and crates. Jan could not believe how many there were. With just this truckload, they could supply the Brotherhood for at least a year. They did that for the next few minutes while Elisabeth stood at the side, making her presence as unnoticeable as possible.

But it didn't work. A soldier on break approached her and started making talk, offering her a cigarette.

"Sure you don't want one?"

She shook her head.

"Something wrong with your voice? Why don't you speak?"

Elisabeth kept her face down, but this just irritated him more. The guard moved in front of her and pulled her face up but stepped back when he saw it.

"Y-y-you…"

"He's just a boy," Jan said as he came along, huffing and puffing as a pretext. "A pretty one, ain't he? Made me think he was a girl too at first." He laughed.

"Oh," the guard laughed, following his lead but a bit awkwardly. "Is that so? Would you like a cigarette?"

Jan didn't smoke, but accepting one seemed the best course of action. With a slight nod of his head, he took one, had it lit, and put it in his mouth. He coughed. It tasted so bitter, like ash. Why would anyone smoke?

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," Jan said in between coughs. "It's just that I haven't smoked much."

They chatted for the next few minutes as the others finished up loading the crates. Elisabeth kept herself at a distance, until finally disappearing at some point in the conversation. They didn't talk about much. Just idle chatter about the weather, their daily lives, the war, the weather. Once they were done, Jan threw away his cigarette and crushed it under his boot. He bade farewell to the guard and headed straight for the truck. That's when the officer from before stopped them.

"Wait!" he called out after them, the sheaf of papers under his arm. "You must sign the papers."

"Ah, right." Jan went ahead and picked up the pen, signing his fake name. All the while, the officer looked down at him with piercing eyes. He looked at him, at Kevin, and at Elisabeth alternately. But then he kept his gaze on Elisabeth.

"Wait… you… you're a woman, aren't you?" he said out loud, stepping back from Jan.

"No, sir, he's just young, and looks like a woman. I was mistaken too at first," the guard from earlier said.

"No, you bumbling idiot. That is a woman. Who are you? What are you doing here? Arrest them immediately!"

Damn. Without a word, Kevin and Elisabeth jumped into the truck while Jan kicked away the hesitant guards. Jan jumped onto the side of the truck as Kevin hit the gas. The truck quickly rushed towards the exit, leaving the soldiers who were shouting in confusion. A few shots were fired, but they completely missed their marks.

When they reached the gate, the guards must have been notified because they were looking back and forth between the gate and the truck. Finally, they started shooting, which made Kevin speed up instead. Jan held on tightly as the truck slammed into the door, the soldiers jumping out of the way. They had vehicles to chase them with, but they were out too quickly for anyone to chase after them.

As the sun slowly disappeared over the western horizon, a nondescript car came onto the forest road they had hidden the truck in. Jan instinctively reached for his handgun, and so did the other two. But when Lutz exited the driver's seat, they relaxed and went towards him.

"So, how was it?"

"See for yourself," Jan said, pointing to the truck.

Lutz went into the truck and inspected the crates. Rifles, handguns, cartridges, grenades, mines, barbed wire, and even a few handguns. Jan had never seen so many weapons in the possession of the Brotherhood. Lutz smiled and grabbed his shoulder.

"Good job, Jan, Elisabeth, Kevin. With this, the Brotherhood stands even more of a fighting chance."

"Looks like the intel was good."

"Yes." Lutz jumped out of the truck and went to the trunk of the car. It opened to reveal the guard they had captured earlier. Beaten, bloodied, with a bruise on his left eye. Lutz had tied his hands and feet and gagged his mouth as well. At seeing the Assassins, the soldier's eyes widened in fear and panic.

"Great news, Herr Soldat, your intel was good."

He relaxed, and his breathing slowed.

"Kill him," Lutz said. Jan looked at him, not sure whether he had heard right or not. But the soldier jumped back and wiggled like a fish out of water, trying to scream through the cloth over his mouth but only managing an inaudible grunt.

"I'm sorry, did you say kill him?"

"Yes. He's done his part. He's of no use to us now."

"He told us the truth."

"Yes, and he has helped our cause. But think, Jan. If we let him go, what'll he do? He'll go back to them and report what happened to him. It'll be bad news for us. We must do what's necessary for the Brotherhood."

He put his hand on Jan's shoulder and encouraged him.

Jan moved towards the soldier, who was visibly agitated. His veins were visible, his eyes wide and mad, his body covered in sweat mixed with dried blood. Jan pinned him down and closed his eyes. Suddenly, the blade in his hand felt heavy, heavier than it had ever been. But he'd done this before. Far more than this. He'd killed dozens, both by blade and gun. On the streets of Berlin the night his father died. The battlefields of Poland. What's one more?

"I'm sorry," he whispered as he engaged his blade, planting it firmly in the soldier's neck. He spasmed for a while, before finally going limp, the colour slowly going out of his face.

Jan stepped back as Kevin took the body, dug a hole, and buried it. Lutz stayed by Jan's side and held his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Jan. As Assassins, as the ones fighting for what's right, sometimes we must make difficult, cold choices. If we had let him go, it would've endangered the Brotherhood. Put the lives of our brothers and sisters at risk. You wouldn't want that either, would you? This was what we had to do."

Elisabeth went in the car with Lutz, while Kevin and Jan took the truck. As he walked towards the truck, the words he had thought himself haunted him.

What's one more?