Eren and Levi rushed away from Nicolo's restaurant. Their hearts pounded as they realized how close they came to a disaster, on top of the dread of seeing so much wanton killing and injustice. Levi weaved through streets, sticking to empty alleys. Eren wondered if these were the same streets they had strolled through last night in the fog.

Bitterness began to grow as he realized that Levi seemed to know the path well, like he used this route daily. These were streets used by the French Resistance to avoid Germans!

Eren sneered as his emotions turned dark. "This is madness. It's going to hell, all of it."

"What do you mean, going to hell?" Levi murmured. "It's always been this way in France, ever since Germany invaded. People fight and die for their homeland every day. You're only just now seeing it."

Eren shook his head. "But Greiz loved this city."

"Maybe so, but it wasn't his to love."

Eren had not known Greiz well, but he came across as decent. He often showed concern and a level of compassion for Louise. He even gave Eren a bottle of wine last night after hearing Levi vomiting, thinking it might help ease Louise's pregnancy sickness. Greiz once said he cared because Louise was a local girl, and he had been stationed in Metz for many years. He got to know and love the people here and sympathized with them.

Eren closed his eyes and shook his head. That was no way for a soldier to die. Killed by some terrorist!

Terrorist?

He glanced over at Levi, who was focused on where he was walking.

Yelena was a French terrorist!

So what did that make Levi?

Levi muttered, "I'm shocked they didn't question us properly. I thought for sure we were fucked. Rather sloppy for the Gestapo. They must have really wanted that bitch."

Eren replied bitterly, "Well, she's a terrorist, after all."

Levi shot a glare over at Eren, hurt by the words, but he said nothing.

Eren had to admit, he had been assuaging himself by reasoning that Levi wasn't really part of the French Resistance; he just happened to be taking shelter with them. Yet he had seen how people around Metz knew "Levinia" by sight. He had an expert knowledge of which streets were not patrolled. Yesterday, Levi had dodged the question about how many Germans he had killed in the past month.

Levi was just as deep into this as the rest of the Resistance.

A terrorist! A threat to Germany!

Eren felt conflicted thinking about how he had spent the night with this man.

This terrorist!

"What was her goal, taking us there?" he wondered aloud.

"Isn't it obvious?"

"No! To watch her shoot Greiz?"

"That clearly wasn't part of the plan."

"Zeke," Eren whispered, like the word itself was treasonous. "How did he know about my brother? No one should know about him! They can't know! Do you have any idea what would happen to me if das Oberkommando found out my brother works for the British government?"

Levi came to such a sharp stop, Eren almost ran into him as his mind whirled with terror.

"You really don't get it, do you?" Levi shook his head. "It's probably best that you don't. Go back to your room, stay there, and don't leave unless you're traveling with other soldiers. Go out with your drinking buddies, have a few beers, sing your victory songs, and pass out. If the Gestapo questions you, be honest, but do not mention Yelena, me, and definitely nothing about your brother."

Eren's brow tightened. "Do you know what's going on?"

Levi sneered in frustration. "I think I do now, and I wish she would've told me."

"What do you know?" shouted Eren.

"Shut up!" Levi glanced around, but they were alone in the alley. "Shit! Eren, you need to keep your voice down when speaking English or someone may shoot you thinking you're a spy."

Eren stepped away from Levi, glaring at him. "I'm not the spy here. You are. Working for those murdering terrorists!"

"Eren!"

"She killed Greiz."

"He was going to Nicolo. Look, right now, you are in grave danger. I need to go."

Levi began to turn, but Eren reached out and grabbed the arm of the blue coat.

"Where are you going?" he yelled.

Levi swirled back around. "To save your life. If the Gestapo finds any connection between you and Zeke, then it's all over."

"What do you know about Zeke?"

"Only what you've told me, but even that means I know too much. The real question is, what did Nicolo and Yelena know about Zeke? I think I know what's going on here, but I need to make sure." He added softly, "I hope to God I'm wrong." He turned to go.

Eren roughly yanked him back. Levi suddenly hit his arm in a spot that made his hand go numb, and Eren could not help but release his grip.

"I don't have time for you to throw a temper tantrum! I need to check that restaurant and make sure Nicolo didn't have anything compromising against you, or any details about us."

Eren rubbed out his tingling hand. "Us? You and me? No," he realized, and his brow pinched. "You mean the Resistance. You care more for them than you do about me."

"Did you not hear what I said? I'm going back to that restaurant for you."

"And for them."

"Obviously! Look, if Nicolo did know your brother, he's dead now, so the only thing that could give away your heritage is if he happened to tell Yelena—which I seriously doubt or she would have asked me more questions about you—or if Nicolo has paperwork lying around that restaurant of his. I'm about to risk meeting the Gestapo just to destroy any evidence like that, so don't you dare say I don't care for you."

"After that, are you returning to the Resistance?"

"I have to. The Gestapo may visit you. If they do, I cannot be in that room. Besides, without Yelena, those men will fall apart in less than a day. I need to go tell them what happened and make sure they don't do anything stupid."

Eren cried out in fury, "You're going back to those terrorists?"

Levi yelled back, "Don't call us that. We're fighting for our homeland."

"We?" Eren said, and he looked revolted by the word. "You really do consider yourself to be one of them." He scoffed and sneered, "You're nothing but a terrorist yourself now."

Levi stomped back up to him, and his hand flew. He slapped Eren so hard, the young soldier stumbled to the side and crashed into the alley wall. Levi's eyes were narrow as Eren grabbed his cheek in pain.

"This isn't you," he whispered, pouting in disappointment. "This is whatever they turned you into when you were out there fighting. I know the man you are, Eren Jäger. I hope you look deep into your soul and find that man again. When you do, you know where to find me."

"You're leaving me?" yelled Eren. "You're going back to them?"

"Back to my friends and comrades, just as you left with your comrades to go kill the men trying to free me and other Jews. I'm trying really hard not to hold that against you, so I expect the same from you. If you can't give me that much respect, then you obviously don't want me as your boyfriend."

Levi turned and marched away. He heard Eren running behind him.

"Lev- ... Louise!"

Levi did not stop. If Eren wanted to truly chase after him, he could, but Levi would keep on walking.

He had spent the past month struggling to rationalize that Eren was fighting for his country. Eren needed to see the same about him. They were on opposite sides of this war, but Levi refused to accept that they could not find some sort of mutual respect, despite their political alliances.

Levi went back to Nicolo's restaurant. There were more cars outside now, and Gestapo agents surrounded the dead bodies. He saw the SS officer named Galliard speaking with them. Levi took off the bright blue coat and carried it close to him, so he would not be recognized. He hurried across the street and out of sight of the Gestapo.

He went around the restaurant, carefully looking for another way inside. Finally, he saw a door near the kitchen, trash piled up outside, and the smells of food attracted rats and cats alike. Levi walked up to the door and slipped inside.

It looked like most of the customers were blissfully unaware of what had happened outside, or they stubbornly refused to leave until they finished eating. A little Gestapo arrest and murder was no excuse to waste good food.

He went back to the kitchen, found waiter uniforms, and yanked it off a hanger without anyone noticing. He found a closet full of mops, brooms, and bottles of cleaning supplies. There was just enough spare room for him to slip inside.

He stowed the blue coat on a shelf. Then he yanked the wig off and placed the hairpins into his purse. Those were always handy for picking locks. He took a cleaning rag folded up on one of the shelves and quickly wiped off the makeup. Then he yanked off the dress, heeled shoes, and knickers, stripping down naked.

He pulled out the uniform he stole. Definitely not his size, but it would have to do. He changed into black trousers, white shirt, and a bow tie. He had no belt, so he took the cleaning rag, ripped it in half, and used a strip to tie two of the belt loops together. That was good enough so the trousers would not fall off.

He rolled up the trouser cuffs, but not too high so they would cover up his feet. He unfortunately did not have men's shoes, and the dainty heels were out of the question for this mission. He just really hoped no one noticed he was barefoot.

He hid the clothes and wig on a shelf, tucked the purse close to his body, grabbed a dish towel, and threw it over his arm, perfectly hiding the purse. He stepped out into a steamy hallway full of delicious smells. Back here, with the noise of sizzling meats and bubbling soups, it seemed like none of the staff was aware that their boss, the restaurant owner, was lying dead in the street just outside.

Barefoot and dressed as a waiter, Levi slipped through the storage area. He glanced into a few rooms. They had standard fares: boxes of dry goods, large refrigeration storage units, closets with spare linens and cleaning supplies. Then he saw a door with a lock and "Vin" labeled above.

The wine cellar.

He glanced around, pulled out the two hairpins, and used them to pick the lock on the cellar. He stepped inside, reached into his purse, and pulled out a tiny, boxy torch. He swung the light around.

The cellar was far less ancient than Wald's, and not nearly as huge. He felt along the brick and stone walls, searching for any secret doors, but nothing seemed amiss. Then he saw an air vent. He climbed onto a crate, reached into his purse, and pulled out a screwdriver. He undid the screws, pulled off the grill, and climbed into the air vents.

When he was with the Deuxième Bureau, his small stature was a huge advantage. He could climb into places no one bothered to secure, since no one expected a spy could squeeze through such tiny spaces. He had learned that this was often the best way to get around without setting off alarms.

Up ahead, he heard voices, faint and echoing. He traveled through the vent to a sudden drop plummeting many meters. Down below, he heard voices. He opened the purse again. A coil of rope was one of the most useful items to carry. You never knew when you may need to tie up an enemy, tie something secure, create a booby trap, or rappel to somewhere safe.

He took the rope and measured down the drop. He barely had enough length. He saw another vent that led to a dark room. He tied one end of the rope through the grill and lowered the other end. Then he grabbed the purse, took out a pair of gloves tucked neatly inside, and pulled those on. With the gloves protecting his hands, he slid down the drop, lowering to some deeper level under the restaurant.

Down here, the voices were louder. He landed softly on his bare feet and moved silently to a grill where light shined in. Peeking out, he saw three men in Gestapo uniforms. He recognized the two who had been at the scene, Magath and Colt. The third was a thick man with saggy jowls, a bulbous nose, and a haughtiness that emanated from him.

Levi held back a curse as he saw the room they were in. There were multiple massive radios, desks for six people, headphones, and typewriters. A red, white, and blue poster on the wall had printed writing in English.

God Save the King.

A listening post!

As he feared. Nicolo was a British spy!

Almost as soon as he began to live with the French Resistance, Levi realized that Yelena had ulterior motives, things she hid from the rest of them. He had wondered if she was a double agent, but she did not fit the profile. He thought maybe she was working directly with the American Army.

She also frequently went to visit her cousin. She never named him, but when Levi once spoke with Yelena's grandfather while browsing the old man's bookstore, he mentioned that his grandson ran a restaurant in town.

That grandson—Yelena's cousin—was Nicolo.

She had been working alongside a member of British Intelligence.

And Nicolo knew about Zeke Jäger.

Levi opened his purse and pulled out the gun he still carried. Enfield, a British gun he picked up from the man who tried to sneak into Eren's room the night he was drugged.

Drugged after eating at this restaurant. Nicolo had personally waited on them that night.

Levi had stabbed the attacker through the arm.

Yelena often mentioned that her cousin was healing from an injury.

It all made sense.

Nicolo was the man who drugged Eren! He was the one who sneaked into the attic, and the man Levi stabbed.

This was his gun!

The gun of a British spy!

Was all of that just to give a message from Zeke to Eren? For what purpose?

Zeke must have sent the British spy they already had deeply planted within Metz, someone who could easily subdue Eren by drugging his food. Nicolo's job was to then sneak Eren out of the hotel in the middle of the night.

And then?

Likely, to get him out of the city. By the time Eren woke up, he would be safely behind Allied lines, on his way to a brother willing to risk everything to save him.

Levi's hand began to shake as all the pieces fell together. The intruder that night had not wanted to kill Eren; he wanted to save Eren. And Levi had stopped him! Because he stabbed Nicolo, Eren was sent off to battle, injured, and traumatized.

Now, there were Gestapo agents searching the room. If there was any evidence, a single note that hinted at a connection between Eren and Zeke...

Magath said, "Danke, dass Sie mich informiert haben, Koslow." Thank you for informing me, Koslow.

Colt looked around and muttered, "Dies ist eine Menge Papierkram." This is a lot of paperwork.

Magath also took a long glance around the room. "Findet ein paar Kisten und packt alles ein." Find some boxes and pack everything.

With that order, Magath began to head out.

"Wollen Sie das Gebiet nicht durchsuchen, Herr Kriminaldirektor?" Don't you want to search the area, Detective?

"Die Ausstattung ist mir egal. Mir geht es nur um Informationen." I don't care about the equipment. I only care about information.

Levi's face scrunched up as he listened. Seriously, why had he never bothered to learn German?

What he wouldn't give to have Eren with him to translate!

The three Germans then left the room. Levi took the screwdriver, slipped his hand through the metal grill, and carefully undid the screws to the vent, making sure not to drop them and make a noise. After it came loose, he slowly slid it off and placed the vent inside the air duct.

With cat-like grace, he slid out of the air vent. He secured the grill back in place with only two loosely tightened screws, so it did not look suspicious and he could make a quick escape.

Keeping an eye on the door and listening for footsteps, he sneaked around the room. There were many folders, too many for him to search all of them. He shook his head as he realized that the loss of this listening post was going to really hurt the Allies.

Then he saw a folder with a name: Mi-homme. Yelena's code name. He opened it. It was partly in English, and reading the language was harder than speaking it. Still, he realized this was far too compromising for the Resistance. He slipped that entire folder under his arm.

Then, he saw a paper sticking out from the top of a stack with a single word: Jäger. He grabbed that paper, but under it was a whole folder.

Classified: Top Secret
Operation Hunter Catch

Hunter. Jäger.

He grabbed the folder, and then grabbed up any paperwork around this workstation. Feeling furious and worried, he grabbed up all he could and began to head back.

Just then, he heard footsteps. Levi dove under a desk right as Colt reentered the room. Levi slipped out his knife, hunched down and prepared for anything. Colt paused at the radio Levi had been standing beside.

"Ich dachte, ich hätte den Ordner hier gelassen." I thought I left the folder here.

He left again. Levi carefully slid out from the desk. He dashed back over to the vent, but before he could reach it, he heard two voices and boots clomping toward the room again. Levi hissed in frustration and wedged himself between two massive radio switchboards. It was a tight squeeze, and he had to suck his chest in to fit. Once wedged in, he realized he could barely breathe.

Shit!

Just then, Koslow and Colt stepped into the room.

"Ich weiß, dass ich den Ordner hier gelassen habe." I know I left the folder here.

"Ich habe es nicht genommen." I didn't take it.

Colt walked right up to the listening post. "Ich könnte schwören, ich habe es hier liegenlassen." I could've sworn I left it right here.

"Ist es auf den Boden gefallen?" Did it fall on the floor?

Koslow leaned over, checking under the desk, right where Levi had been hiding a moment ago.

Colt sighed in frustration. "Sind Sie sicher, dass Sie es nicht abgeholt haben?" Are you sure you didn't pick it up?

"Vielleicht hat es einer meiner Männer genommen." Maybe one of my men took it.

"Wir müssen es schnell finden." We need to find it quickly.

"Meine Männer wurden geschickt, um die Gäste zu verjagen." My men were sent to chase out the guests.

They left again, with Koslow admonishing the young assistant inspector for his sloppy forgetfulness.

Levi waited slightly longer, making sure there was silence. He slipped out of the narrow space and finally took a deep breath of air. That one hurt! He could fit in tight spots, but not that tight.

He ran on tip-toes to the doorway. The hall was empty, and he saw an elevator at the far end, presumably the only way up and down to this hidden listening post.

He raced to the air vent, unscrewed it, and threw the folders up there. Then he ran around the room, gathering every bit of paper he could find, every note, every punch card, every folder. He yanked some of the radios out and set them up on the ground. Then he layered the folders on top, spreading them out and leaving space under the papers. Finally, he took a few papers and wadded them up, rushing as he piled them around the lifted stack.

Then he pulled a box of matches out of his purse, struck one, and set a wadded up paper on fire. He tucked it under the stack, right between the radios. He used the flame to light another paper wad, also setting the fireball under the folders. Then he tossed two more matches down onto the top of the pile, striking them in anger and adding them to the growing blaze. He watched long enough to make sure the whole pile was going to catch. Soon, an inferno danced across the papers, swallowing them up.

Seeing the fire taking hold, Levi ran back to the air vent, leaped up, and did not even bother with securing it. He grabbed the folders and crawled as fast as he could, while smoke began to rush through the vent. He covered his mouth as he crawled toward the rope.

With the folders clenched in his teeth, he scaled up the rope to the higher level. He stopped long enough to untie the rope—it was good rope and hard to find—shoved it into his purse haphazardly, and continued onward. Smoke rushed around him, trying to find a route to escape. Levi put his sleeve up to his mouth to cover his coughs and try to block the acrid burning.

He could already hear French screams about smoke, and as he passed other rooms he heard urgent German voices as they tried to race back to the elevator.

Levi reached the wine cellar, glanced around, but saw the lights were off. In the dark, he unscrewed the vent, threw it aside, and jumped out, coughing smoke out of his lungs and into his sleeve.

He grabbed a bottle of wine and slipped out of the cellar. Luckily, no one asked what he was doing. Just another server fetching some wine.

Keeping his head down, he slipped into the closet where he had changed clothes. Although it was doubtful, there was a chance that someone might recognize that bright blue coat and blond wig, especially the Gestapo who had clearly seen him mere minutes ago. He rolled those up, tucked them under his arm, and headed out.

The guests had begun to push their way out of the restaurant, scared by the smoke. Levi blended in with the crowd, passed right by Colt, and walked out onto the street.

Levi went down the road a little and slipped into an alley. He grabbed a shirt hanging on a clothesline, left the now-filthy white shirt on the line in its place, and pulled the new shirt on. He found a sack, shoved the women's clothes and papers inside, and continued onward. A little further down, someone's hat had been left on a crate. Levi calmly picked it up without breaking his pace and pulled it low over his head. As much as he wished he could have shoes, especially stepping in dark puddles in the filthy alleys, he did not see any boots lying around.

He walked for ten minutes, his feet starting to hurt from the icy streets and trash in the alleys, until he was far away from the yells, the smoke, and even the sound of a firetruck in the distance.

He came to a café in a narrow street that was closed down, but the owner told the Resistance where to find the key if they needed a hiding place. There was a terracotta pot, the plant that had been growing in it now long dead. Under the pot was a loose brick in the road, and under the brick was the key. He pulled it out, unlocked the door, and walked in.

Tables and chairs had been left behind, gathering dust and cobwebs. The windows were boarded up, but light filtered through the gaps between wood planks. Someone else must have recently used this hiding spot, because one table was less dusty. Levi yanked out a handkerchief, swept the dust away, and sat on a chair by the table. He set down the purse, the bag he stole to hide his supplies, and finally pulled out the folders.

The one marked Mi-homme was full of correspondence Nicolo had been having with Yelena. Levi saw that the two had planned far more than Yelena ever let on to the French Resistance. In fact, it looked more like her being with the Resistance was nothing more than a cover for her real job: an Allied spy.

It made sense. If she was caught, the Germans would only think she was a partisan and throw her in a labor camp. If they knew she was a spy, she would be executed immediately.

He realized, if the Gestapo had gotten their hands on this, her entire operation would have been compromised. It did not mention the location of her base, at least. Still, he could see that she was involved in a lot more than just sabotaging a few ammunition depots.

He read one report that mentioned him, although they referred to him only as La Lame Juive. He paused at seeing that old name.

Would the Germans know about his old life?

He read more of that particular document. Yelena apparently supported letting Levi heal and teach her men to fight, but Nicolo was pushing her to hand him over. It seemed the SIS definitely still remembered him, and his reputation alone meant they wanted his expertise. Nicolo had plans to get Levi out of Metz and sent to England, where the SIS could help him.

"Help me, my arse!" he grumbled.

More like force him to work for them again.

Then he pulled out the folder marked Operation Hunter Catch. While the other folder was bilingual, this one was purely in English, with the seal of the Intelligence Services stamped onto the top right corner of every page.

The entire folder referred to the target as only "the Hunter" (in English) but it was obvious to Levi who they meant. At least there was no mention of him or Mi-homme. It seemed that Yelena did not know anything about this operation, or so Levi hoped.

As he read the pages, the contents made his eyes widen, and his face turned pale.

"Dear God."

He flipped through pages, reading quickly, now fearing that anyone else might see the papers. His head kept shaking back and forth, not wanting to believe this. He sneered and cursed in English and French.

"Zeke, you sonuvabitch!"

He walked back into the café's kitchen and to a massive metal sink. He angrily wadded up every single page in that folder, taking his emotions out on them. The sink became littered with crumpled paper, like a bunch of snowballs. Then he pulled out the box of matches and struck one.

Levi paused as the match burned and looked down at the papers. The information in them was so damning, if the Gestapo saw this, Eren would never be allowed to live.

And if Eren saw...

His hand tensed as the flame licked the match.

"Eren must never know about this."

He touched the match to the wadded papers and watched as the flames consumed the evidence. After the fire burned through and only gray ash was left, he washed the ashes down the drain until absolutely nothing was left.

"Sorry, Eren," he muttered. "I'll tell you about it after the war."

Levi rubbed his forehead. What was he going to do now? He doubted Yelena would snitch on the rest of the group, but he also knew that torture could be effective.

Their first step should be to find a new place to hide. After that...

Wait, why was he thinking about how to protect them? He wasn't a leader in their group! He only lived with them in order to stay safe.

He supposed he could at least help the group get to a new safe-house.

He dressed back in the women's clothes, mostly so he could wear shoes for the long walk back to the wine shop. They might be uncomfortable, but he did not want to deal with foot injuries again.

Hiding the remaining folders inside the blue coat, he made the long trek to the hideout.

* * *

Levi entered the wine shop, and Wald looked up from his newspaper. The balding shopkeeper immediately began to reprimand him.

"Remember, I want that cellar cleaned to a shine—"

"Fuck off, old man!" he snapped. "Open that door or I will smash every wine bottle in this fucking building!"

Wald was stunned at Levi's rage. He hurried to the cellar door and unlocked it.

"Close shop for the rest of the day."

"What? Why?" he cried out.

"I said close the fucking store!" Levi reined in his rage and whispered, "Yelena was arrested."

Wald gasped and crossed himself. "Angels help us!"

Levi ripped the wig off his head. He paused at the doorway to the cellar and looked up at the man who had risked everything to hide them. Softer, sympathetic for him, he said, "If you have family in Metz, get them out. We'll need to find a new place to stay as soon as possible."

"Yelena had another location as a backup, just in case something like this happened. I'll call and tell them."

Levi nodded, glad that Yelena at least planned ahead. He might have never gotten along with her, but he did admire that she was a good leader.

He stomped down the ramp into the cellar, marched to the false wall, jogged down the winding staircase, and emerged into the dim tunnel. Right away, Oruo ran up to him.

"One of Yelena's contacts just radioed us on the emergency channel. Is it true? Yelena..."

"It's true," Levi muttered.

Two more men, Flagon and Duran, ran up.

Flagon asked, "They said you were there. Are you safe?"

Duran shouted angrily, "Why didn't you stop them?"

Levi snapped, "What, go against half the Gestapo in the city with only one gun? I'm not stupid."

"We can break her out, right?" cried Oruo. When Levi rolled his eyes, he shouted, "Right?"

Eld Jinn approached them and stopped in front of Levi. "What will happen to the Resistance without Yelena?"

Levi scowled. "Why the hell are you looking at me? Aren't you the next in line?"

"We didn't have a hierarchy like that. Yelena led because she knew what to do."

Oruo cried out, "You were a captain, Levi. You know how to lead. You're the only one."

Duran scoffed. "Only one? Are you forgetting? I was a police officer, and I've been with this group for over two years."

Flagon burst out in a laugh. "Duran, you were a deputy in a village of less than a hundred people. You never saw more than a child stealing pies." He looked over at the tiny Jew. "Levi at least has battle experience, and his plans have never once failed. Hate to say it, but you're the best choice as our next leader, if you'll take it."

Levi grumbled, "Why the hell should I?"

Eld told him, "Because Yelena trusts you. She respects you. And so do we."

Flagon added, "That's right! The men have come to respect you. You taught us how to fight and how to survive."

Oruo nodded enthusiastically. "Obviously, you're the best choice to lead us now."

Levi sneered, but as he looked around, he saw all of the Resistance fighters gathered around, all looking to him.

"Putain de bordel de merde!" he yelled, seething as he realized they were right. Quieter, in defeat, he muttered, "Fuck."

Trapped! If he left, he damned these men. They would not last a week, especially now as the Gestapo would be out to find Yelena's Resistance cell. After all they did for him—sheltering him, giving him food, providing a doctor when his foot was broken—he owed them a debt.

"Fine! Eld, show me everything Yelena was working on."

"She was focused on getting her cousin out of the city."

"Her cousin was a British spy, and now he's dead. What else was that bitch doing?"

He went into Yelena's office, brought out the folders he stole, and slammed them onto the desk. Eld and Flagon showed him papers, lists of helpful locals, transcripts, as well as some from Nicolo's spying work. Levi skimmed over all the paperwork.

"I need to get out of this damn dress," he muttered.

Oruo rushed off and returned with Levi's male clothing, including socks and shoes. Levi filled a basin with water and washed his muddy feet off with one hand, while the other hand held papers he was reading.

"Some of this is in code. Dammit," he muttered. "I was never good at code-breaking."

Once his feet were washed, Levi began to undress. Just as he removed the women's knickers, a svelte lady sauntered into the makeshift office.

"Oh! Lucky me."

Levi yanked his underwear up, and glared over his shoulders at the newcomer. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Someone who doesn't mind a man who likes to wear women's underwear. If that's your thing, I have some girls who are into crossdressing."

Levi scoffed, yanked on his trousers, and tightened his belt. "I don't know who the hell you are, but get the fuck out of here."

She took a long drag on her cigarette. "Wald called me. I've never heard that man sound so sober in my life."

"Are you the one with a place for us?"

"Could be. Are you the little Jew I've heard so much about? Levi, right?"

"Could be," he answered back, tugging his shirt on and getting started with the buttons. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Carly Stratmann. Yelena and I are old friends. She's been keeping you out of my sight. Now I know why." Her eyes trailed up and down his body. "A scrumptious little thing like you! I'd love to have you as an aperitif, although I have a feeling you're more than enough for a main course."

Levi's eyes narrowed. "Carly ... the brothel madam?" His gaze drifted to the photograph of Yelena, Carly, and Hange hanging up on the wall of the rickety office. "That's you in the picture."

"A long time ago, longer than I like to admit to my clients." Carly walked up to the photograph and smiled at the memories. "Yelena was the baby of our group. It was like having a little sister, and Hange ... well, Hange was our parent."

"Did you hear what happened? Hange fled France."

"Yes, I know. Because we're both Jewish, Hange wrote to me, begging me to come along to America. I couldn't leave, though. Most of the girls working in my brothel were Jews. Someone had to protect them. When Yelena got her own letter from Hange, she made an oath to do everything in her power to free France, so that one day, the three of us could be together again. Yelena mentioned that you knew Hange too."

He nodded solemnly. "Back in Paris. That crazy mad scientist saved my life. So, what have you got for us?"

"Straight to business! I like a man who is direct." Her face went from flirty to instantly serious. "You'll need to move fast. I have a place you can use in my brothel. I hid my Jewish girls there a few years back when the Gestapo came to arrest them all. Yelena got caught helping me get them out. That's how she got her first arrest."

"First arrest?"

"She never told you about the concentration camp? I don't blame her. The stories she had..." Carly flinched and gulped down sickness. "It's why I took a risk coming here myself. She helped me back then. By the time the Gestapo caught up with her, my girls were long gone. She made sure I would put all the blame on her. Bitch," she muttered with a smile of the deepest gratitude. "I owe it to her. This time, I'll help rescue her people."

Levi was not opposed to that. He stiffened his shoulders. "Very well. Eld!" he called out, and the lean blond with a long ponytail stepped in. "Go with Carly. Inspect our new hideout. Oh, and don't get sidetracked by the girls. Duran?"

He pushed through the entryway. "Yes, captain?"

"I'm putting you in charge of packing our gear. Be careful with the radios. Flagon?"

"What?" he said in a snappish tone.

"We need trucks for the bigger supplies. Two drivers at a time, switching cars frequently to lessen suspicion. This will be done over the course of a week."

"Why so slow?" asked Duran.

"So the Gestapo doesn't figure it out. If we suddenly cart away all of this equipment, we'll be caught instantly. I doubt Yelena will break under torture, but at the very least, she can last a week."

"It's okay," Carly reassured them with a confident smile. "Yelena has been through so much in her life, there's no way those Gestapo bastards will get to her."

Others had now gathered at the door, and Ouro cried out, "Why aren't we going to rescue her?"

Levi snapped, "Because I'd rather have us survive! What would Yelena have you do: free her, or free all of Metz?"

Levi marched out of the room and out into the cavernous, semi-dark sewer.

"All of you!" he shouted out, and people quieted down right away. "You're my new squad. Things will be different under me, and it starts with weeding out the ranks. If you're not willing to get blood on your hands, get out of here now. I won't hold you back."

"You'd let us go?" a young Resistance fighter questioned in surprise.

Levi looked at the boy. He had seen the youth around the sewer tunnel, but the awkward teen with thick-rimmed glasses usually stayed to himself.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Udo."

"How old are you?"

The boy looked uncomfortable. "Sixteen."

"Bullshit. What's your real age?"

He pouted and muttered, "Thirteen, sir."

"Thirteen? Have you ever fucked a girl?"

The boy's face burst out red while people in the crowd protested.

"Hey, you can't ask him that."

"Yeah, he's just a kid."

"Exactly," said Levi. "He's just a kid. Look, Udo, I'm giving you an order. Go home. If you don't have a home, find one outside the city. Leave before the battle starts."

"I can fight!" he insisted.

"I bet you can, but I'm not going to have the death of a child on my head. God knows what may happen to me if I purposely use child soldiers! So that's my first order. Anyone under sixteen, go home now. As it says in the Bible, virgins shouldn't fight in wars."

Carly burst in a single laugh. "If that was actually the law, I would have even more business."

Udo pointed to her. "I could lose my virginity with her."

Carly took a drag of her cigarette as she shook her head. "Sorry, kid. There are laws against that." She added under her breath, "Although I know for a fact, some of my girls aren't sixteen yet."

Levi saw the obstinacy in his eyes. "I'm doing you a favor, Udo."

"I already made my choice."

"And so did I. Anyone under sixteen, you are dismissed."

"That's not fair," one young fighter yelled. "I turn sixteen next month."

Levi told him, "Then you can return in one month."

"The battle will be over by then."

"You better hope so," Levi muttered. "Look, I don't want to be responsible for children, so scram!"

Eld came up to the two young boys. "I'll show you up."

Udo turned to him. "Convince him we can fight!"

Eld said nothing. He personally agreed with Levi. The battlefield was no place for children so young.

Duran questioned in surprise, "You're just going to let them go? What if they tell the Gestapo where we are?"

"Tell the Gestapo that they were members of the French Resistance? They're young, not stupid, which is more than I can say for you."

Duran scowled, and a few people laughed.

"We're leaving this place anyway," said Levi. "I'd rather they not find out where our second hideout is. The rest of you," he bellowed. "If you're scared of dying, go home. I'd rather have five good soldiers than fifty cowards. It is written in the Bible, 'Is anyone afraid or fainthearted? Let him go home so that his fellow soldiers will not become disheartened too.'"

Oruo shouted out, "I thought you were Jewish. How do you know the Bible?"

Levi raised an eyebrow. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

Flagon smacked Ouro over the head. "They read the Old Testament, stupid."

Levi ignored the comment. "You can run home to your families. You get to live knowing you're a coward, but at least you'll live, which is more than I can promise. There's no guarantee you'll live longer by leaving the Resistance, but there's a damn good chance you'll get others killed if we're in the middle of battle and you run away in fear, leaving your comrades exposed to enemy fire."

"Battle?" asked Duran. "Are you planning to do even more?"

Oruo pointed out, "Before Levi arrived, Yelena didn't really plan much, and before her, we barely did anything beyond stealing from supply trucks. We've been making an actual difference under Captain Levi."

"It's been getting more dangerous too," Duran pointed out. "We didn't used to kill people back then."

"This is war, Duran," said Levi. "You were a police officer, not a military officer, so maybe you don't understand the difference between putting up a resistance and battling an enemy."

He folded his arms and scowled. "I just want to protect the people of France."

"We all do, but the battle is already upon us. So like I said, if you're afraid of dying, or if you're not prepared to kill anyone, go home."

No one else moved. They looked stern and ready.

"Good. We'll be leaving this tunnel soon, and life will get a hell of a lot harder, so I don't want any whiny cowards to see where our new place is, only to abandon us and put us all at risk."

"Where are we moving to?" asked Duran.

"That information will be on a limited need-to-know basis until our supplies are fully transported over and we have the means to defend ourselves. For now, three people will know the precise location: myself, Eld, and Flagon. Should Yelena break and tell them about this location, I don't want one of you getting captured and telling them about the second hideout."

"Yelena didn't keep secrets from us," someone yelled in anger.

Levi's eyes narrowed. "Are you kidding? Most of you thought she was a man until recently. She hid her name, her gender..." He glanced over at Carly. "...her past. Did Yelena tell you that her cousin was a member of the SIS?"

The group all looked stunned, and they began to mutter among themselves.

"Was that her contact? Wait, wasn't her cousin that restaurant owner? I knew she had a contact in the SIS, but I didn't think it was someone right here in Metz."

"Yelena did keep secrets," Levi pointed out, "because that's what leaders do. They protect the people under them, and sometimes that means limiting what they know for the safety of everyone."

Like he was limiting what Eren knew, hiding a secret from him now.

"I know you want to rush in there and break Yelena out, but that isn't what she would want. What was her objective?"

Ouro shouted, "To free France!" Others mumbled in agreement.

"Exactly. If we free France, we free Yelena and everyone else those Gestapo fuckers have captured. Yelena set up the objective, and our duty now is to stick to the plan. We keep our focus, we liberate our country, and we survive this war ... no matter the price!"

Levi looked around at them all, looking grieved and lost without their leader, yet drawn by his firm words full of confidence and hope.

"When I served as a captain," he said to the group, "two things I did not accept were laziness and uncertainty. You dedicated your heart to the mission ... or you stayed home a weakling. As my new squad, I expect you to be strong, to fight. For Yelena!"

"For Yelena," said a handful of the men.

While some were bought over easily, Levi saw many still sneering in frustration. "I know you're angry. You're scared. That's natural. We want to believe even Hell can't be worse than this, but you should all know the truth by now. It can always be worse. This? This isn't bad, because you are all still alive, and that means there is hope.

"One day, you may not have that hope. In the military, we all know that we may face a day where if you run away, they will shoot you, and if you charge forward, they will shoot you. You run as a coward and die as a coward, or you charge forward as soldiers—you rage, you scream, and you fight as soldiers—and you die as a soldier. That's the reality of war. It's what we all signed up for: to fight for our country, our people, and our freedom.

"Sometimes, you have to throw away what's most precious to you just to keep marching forward. You watch loved ones die, leave behind the corpses of friends, and you're able to bury nothing but your own emotions."

His brow tensed as ghostly faces haunted him. Petra was watching him now. Moses, Abel, and all the Jews were watching him. Levi's eyes narrowed with burning conviction.

"If that's what it takes to overcome the enemy, so be it! I will throw away anything. Now is the time to transform our fleeting lives into burning arrows and strike at the enemy! All our sacrifices were for this moment. All our hard work, all the families we left behind: it all has led to this moment. This is not the time to give up. This is when we fight harder! Every Frenchman who has died before now helped to carve a path to the future. It is our turn to burn a path to victory.

"Liberté, égalité, fraternité: our forefathers fought for that cause. They offered up everything: their comforts, their blood, their lives. How about you? What are you willing to sacrifice for freedom?"

"Everything!" Flagon yelled.

"Everything? Prove it! Prove you fight for France. Dedicate your hearts!" he bellowed.

The group saluted him as one. "Yes, captain!"

"As for me: so long as I am free, I will fight! For liberty! For France!"

The Resistance broke into a roaring cheer. "For France!"

Suddenly, their zeal was renewed. Each of them had gone from grieved and scared, to a fierce group ready to battle the Nazis head-on.

Carly strolled up behind Levi and whispered in his ear. "You're quite good at that, Captain Levi."

"I fucking hate speeches," he admitted quietly, "but I've heard those words before." He turned and walked away. "Bullshit, all of it."

"I thought it was quite ... arousing!" she said with a wink.

Levi paused and turned to look at her with weary eyes. "Don't fuck with me."

Carly chortled with an apologetic smile. "Right. You have a boyfriend. Sorry."

Levi rolled his eyes and walked away. He went back into the tiny office and looked around. He flipped through some of the papers addressed to the leader of the Resistance cell. He would have to reply to some of these. That was his job now.

"Leader of the French Resistance," he muttered. "How the bloody hell did that happen?"

He gazed at the photo, the people looking young and carefree. Then he reached down to Eren's key tucked into his shirt and felt the metal up against his breast.

For Hange, he would fight for France once again!

For Eren, he would survive, no matter the price!

# # #

# #

#

Happy Rosh Hashanah!

Bring out the apples! Bring out the honey!
Happy New Year! Shanah Tovah!

(Rosh Hashanah began at sundown, September 25, 2022)

What a time to mention the "God Save the King" posters that were hung up by the British during World War II. My heart goes out to the people of the United Kingdom. Whether if you liked her or merely tolerated her, Queen Elizabeth lived a long, full life. God save the King.

Burning a lot of paper – You would think that paper is easy to burn. Individually, yes, but if you have to burn a large stack, often you will end up with papers on the bottom of the pile that only get a little singed, not turned to ash. (My family used to burn important documents in the days before we had a shredder.) To burn a pile of papers, you need to lift it so oxygen gets to the underside of the pile, thus burning through all of it. Usually we used cinder blocks, but Levi has to work with what he's got. Also, wadding up the paper helps it to burn through the whole thing.

Side note: The CIA uses a technique when they need to burn a piece of paper and not create smoke. You fold the paper in one inch folds back and forth, like an accordion. Put the paper upright with the folds vertical, bending it into a C shape so it will stand on its own. Light the corner, each fold that is facing you, and the other corner. The paper will burn thoroughly and without smoke.

Jewish Laws of Warfare – Deuteronomy 20 lays out how warfare should be handled. There were many factors limiting who should and should not fight. The idea was to bring only:

1) men who had a home to fight for,

2) men who had established careers (i.e. had planted a vineyard),

3) married men who had a family to fight for (not virgins),

4) men who were not afraid.

Levi quotes that last part.

"Then the officers shall add, "Is anyone afraid or fainthearted? Let him go home so that his fellow soldiers will not become disheartened too."
— Deuteronomy 20:8

The Israelites were a rare example from the Bronze Age of an army made up of volunteers, not soldiers forced to fight due to conscription or family obligation. In comparison, during WWII in the United States, England, Germany, Japan, and most of the warring nations, if a soldier was too scared to fight, they were punished with a court-martial and executed in front of their unit. It says a lot when a Bronze Age desert tribe has better sympathy for men who are scared on the battlefield than a modern-day military.

Levi's speech is inspired by a remix of Erwin's final battle rally and the English lyrics to Opfert eure Herzen!, also known as Shinzou wo Sasageyo!, the third opening theme song of Attack on Titan. (The best, in my opinion.)

We wanted to believe there could be no hell worse than this
But the worst days humanity will face always come so suddenly.

The sound of knocking on our door was unrelenting and rude.
That uninvited sign of calamity was like a nightmare.

The ones who forsake bygone days
Are enemies we must exterminate.
What kind of face did they make that day
When they were staring at us with their eyes?

What must we throw away to surpass the devils?
Take my life, take my soul, I'll never regret it.

Dedicate! Dedicate! Dedicate your hearts!
All our sacrifices were for this moment.
Dedicate! Dedicate! Dedicate your hearts!
With your own hands, cut open a path to our rightful future.

Those who lie about bygone days
Are enemies deserving of our hatred.
What kind of voice did you use that day
As you deceived us with your words?

What must I learn to slay the demons?
Neither technology nor tactics will be wasted.

Dedicate! Dedicate! Dedicate your hearts!
All our efforts were for this moment.
Dedicate! Dedicate! Dedicate your hearts!
With your own hands, grab hold of our rightful victory!

These mysterious monsters take on the faces of humans.
I will exterminate all of them from the face of this Earth.
Who said it first? I really can't remember.
I have this unforgettable anger. I'll definitely exterminate them all.

Ah, what kind of place will this regretful path lead us to?
Surely, the lives we dedicate will bloom into a long-awaited victory!
The promised land lies beyond paradise!

On that day, humanity remembered
The fear of being controlled by them...
The disgrace of being trapped in a birdcage.

In the twilight, arrows soar with wings on their backs.
Their trajectory becomes the path to freedom.

Dedicate! Dedicate! Dedicate your hearts!
All our hardships were for this moment.
Dedicate! Dedicate! Dedicate your hearts!
Transform your fleeting lives into burning arrows.
Dedicate! Dedicate! Dedicate your hearts!
With your own bodies, draw a proud trajectory.