The year is 1942 and Europe is at the height of World War Two. Mila Goldstein, a Dutch Jew living in occupied Holland, has signed on as an informant for the British Secret Intelligence Service (SIS). However, days before her assignment, a wounded Ge...
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BIG NEWS GUYS! This is (technically) the last chapter.. hehe, surprise! I know this might come as a shock to a lot of you, but have no fear... even though this is the last chapter, this isn't the official ending! Anyway... Hope you guys like it!
Mila watched from the backseat as Josef and S.S. Wagner approached the vehicle. She couldn't discern the exact make or model through the glare of the headlights, but it didn't look to be military. If not military though, then who? Why would someone park their car in the middle of a remote service rode and abandon it, still running. The whole situation made her skin prickle with goosebumps. Something was wrong. This didn't feel right.
Suddenly four figures emerged from the tree line, guns pointed firmly at Josef and S.S. Wagner. This was an ambush. Was it a raid by Dutch Resistance? She squinted, trying to make out what the men were wearing through the dim light the sun was still managing to cast over the treetops. They wore dark overcoats to match their military fatigues, and a green beret sat atop each man's head. These men wasn't Resistance.
"We know you've got one of ours in there," One of the men said in a posh, British accent, gesturing to the jeep. "Give her to us, and we'll let you be on your way."
Her heart skipped a beat. They were here for her. This was part of the plan ... Or was it?
She was jerked from her thoughts as an arm slipped around her neck, yanking her from the backseat. Cold metal pressed against her temple as Lieutenant Hoffman pulled her against his body. The soldiers' eyes, and guns, darted in their direction, everyone's attention shifting to Mila, and the pistol Lieutenant Hoffman held to her head.
"If you want her, come get her," Lieutenant Hoffman sneered, his chin resting against the top of her head.
"Let the girl go," One of the men spoke forcefully, his weapon pointed firmly at Lieutenant Hoffman.
"Or what?" Lieutenant Hoffman asked, tightening his grip around her when one of the men stepped towards them. "You'll shoot me? I doubt any of you are a good enough shot to shoot me without killing her in the process." He nodded towards Josef and S.S. Wagner, who briefly shared a look with each other before lowering their hands, which had been raised in surrender. Approaching Lieutenant Hoffman, they flanked him, and turned to face the men, who's guns were still firmly pointed in their direction.
"Give her to us, and we'll let you go on about your business," The same man, who she guessed was the leader, said again.
"I think we all know that's a lie," Lieutenant Hoffman replied matter-of-factly. "The moment we turn her over to you, we'll all get a bullet in the head."
"Daan't confuse us wif your kind," Another one of the soldiers spoke up, his accent thicker, and much less proper than his counterpart. "We daan't give a man our ward and then shoot 'im in the bloody back."
The leader rose a hand, signaling the soldier to stop talking.
"All cards on the table," He spoke, turning his attention back to Lieutenant Hoffman. "You're outnumbered ... There's a sniper in the tree line waiting for you to make one wrong move," He nodded to the trees. "All I have to do is give the go ahead, then bang," Hesmiled pleasantly. Was he bluffing, or was there really a sniper waiting somewhere in the darkness?
