Okay guys... This chapter was a labor of love, because when I tell you that I had NO motivation to write the rest of this today, I mean it! It took four hours, but here it is! It was originally supposed to be longer, so it ends on a bit of a cliffhanger! ;) Let me know what you think! Thank you all for reading and loving this story as much as I do

"Time to get up," S.S. Wagner's voice called, jolting Mila awake as it did every morning.

She'd gotten even less sleep than usual last night, unable to slow the racing thoughts jumbled inside her head. She'd scanned the lines of Josef's letter over and over again, searching his words for some hidden meaning she'd missed. She hadn't found any though. No clue as to what his plan was, or if he had a plan for that matter. She'd decided on one thing though. Today, she would give up the thing she'd been clinging to the past two weeks. She would give them what they wanted.

S.S. Wagner grabbed her arm, jerking her out of the fetal position she'd been lying in, to her feet. Wasting no time, he pulled her towards the door.

"Wait," She said, tugging her arm from his grasp.

"Let's go," He said, the exasperation evident on his face. Gripping her arm more roughly this time, he pulled her forward. "Mila, come on ... Don't make this any harder."

"I'll tell you," She blurted out.

"What?" S.S. Wagner looked down at her.

"I'll tell you everything," She repeated, drawing in a deep breath. "Just don't take me back to him."

"Wait here," He said, releasing her arm and turning on his heel.

She stood there, motionless, as she waited. What would happen once she gave up the information she had? Would Wagner let S.S. Meyer torture her anyway? Would she be taken somewhere else, or kept here? She had little time to think over the possibilities, S.S. Wagner returning after only a brief moment.

"Sit down," He gestured to the bed as he pulled up the metal chair that was normally stationed beside the door. She sat down on the mattress, watching as he sat down opposite her in the chair. Pulling a small, black box from his coat pocket, he flipped a switch, a red light flickering to life on the front of the box. Tossing it, the tape recorder landed with a thud onto the mattress beside her. "You said you'd tell me everything," He said, nodding towards the recorder. "Go ahead."

And she did. She told him everything. What had happened to her father and brother, and how Heinrich Muller had been the one to kill them. How she'd become an SIS informant. How she'd found Josef on her doorstep, and subsequently saved his life. How it'd been she, who'd passed the information about the supply transports to the British, leading to their capture.

She told him everything, every last detail spilling from her lips like a flash flood after a heavy rain. She wouldn't have been able to stop herself if she'd tried, but she didn't want to. She hadn't realized how much she'd kept bottled up, unable to tell the truth, in its entirety, to anyone. It felt nice to be telling it now, even if it were to a Gestapo official whose only goal was to use it all against her.

S.S. Wagner picked up the tape recorder. The glow of its red light evaporated as he clicked it off, signaling the end of their interview. Standing to his feet, he headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" She asked, pushing herself up off the mattress.

"I'll be back," He replied. His tone was flat, devoid of any emotion, as the cell door closed behind him.

His expression had been much the same while she'd told him what she knew. He'd asked very few questions, letting her, instead, speak freely until she'd decided she was finished. She'd expected him to gloat, or at least to see a satisfied smirk flicker across his face at the fact that she'd given up. There'd been none of that though. He'd simply sat there, listening with a far off look in his eyes, as if he were planning his next move. There were no more moves to make though, for either of them. This was the end of the line ... the end game. It always had been, and they both knew it. Maybe he was trying to decide what horrible fate would be her end? Firing squad? No ... too quick and clean, she thought. Getting shipped off to a concentration camp was more likely. They'd want her to suffer for as long as possible.

She shook the gruesome thought away. Josef had a plan. He had to have a plan. Why else would he have told her to tell them what she knew? He had to know what that would mean ... What would happen.

She sat back down on the bed, pushing herself back until her back pressed against the wall. Pulling her legs to her chest, she wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on the tops of her knees. He had a plan. She played those words back through her head, willing herself to believe them.

She closed her eyes, staying in that position for what felt like hours, until finally, the cell door swung open. S.S. Wagner stood in the doorway, his expectant eyes on her. He motioned for her to stand, and she did, hesitating only briefly when he motioned for her to come to him. Pressing a hand to her back, he led her down the corridor. A shiver raked down her spine as they passed the interrogation room. Whatever was in store for her, she could reconcile herself to it if it meant never having to step foot in that room again. She allowed her mind to wander as they passed each room, weaving down unfamiliar hallways until they reached a large metal door.

S.S. Wagner's hand left her back, snaking firmly around her upper arm instead. A glint of metal caught her eye as he pulled something from his pocket. Handcuffs. Pulling her hands together in front of her, S.S. Wagner secured the handcuffs around her wrists. She swallowed. She should've been afraid of what awaited her on the other side of that door, but she wasn't.

The door creaked as S.S. Wagner pulled it open. Goose bumps peppered her skin as a gust of cold air blew through her hair. She squinted, her eyes adjusting to the last glimmer of sunlight that glowed over the horizon. It was dusk, but the winter sun still shined brighter than the dim, florescent lights she'd become accustomed to. She shivered as another chill coursed through her. She didn't care though. She reveled in the feeling. It had been weeks since she'd seen the sun, or breathed in fresh air.

S.S. Wagner pulled her forward, her feet fumbling as she struggled to keep up with him, the cold only further tensing her already aching muscles. They'd walked only a few paces when the crunch of gravel filled Mila's ears. A jeep came into view as it pulled into the lot, its convertible, canvas top pulled up in an effort to shield it's passengers from the cold. The vehicle came to a stop in front of them, the driver's and passenger's side doors opening to reveal two men.

It was the dark eyes of Leiutenant Hoffman she met first. They were narrowed at her, a satisfied smirk turning up the corners of his mouth, as he propped himself up against the open passenger side door. She glanced away, focusing her attention to the second man as he walked around the vehicle, towards them. Josef's blue eyes met her's briefly, before trailing down her body, his jaw clenching as his gaze traveled over each bruise that littered her exposed flesh.

She looked down, training her eyes on the rocky ground beneath her feet. He'd looked at her that way once before; when she'd been attacked by the soldier in the alley. He pitied her, and she hated it. Hated how frail and weak she looked. Hated how frail and weak she felt.

"S.S. Wagner," She heard Josef's voice call as the men exchanged greetings.

"Captain Fischer," S.S. Wagner replied. Keeping one hand loosely around her arm, he extended the other to Josef. "I'm afraid we haven't met," S.S. Wagner said, she assumed, to Lieutenant Hoffman.

"This is Lieutenant Hoffman," Josef answered for him. "He works in the War Office as liaison for the labor camps on the Western front. He'll be our official escort to Vught," He added, the tiniest hint of annoyance in his voice.

"Wouldn't want to break protocol after all," Lieutenant Hoffman said, the smirk on his face evident in his voice.

"Alright," S.S. Wagner nodded. "Let's not waste anymore time with pleasantries. I'd rather not be on the road all night."

So this was his plan ... Break her out while she was being transported to a concentration camp? Though how he planned to do that with a Gestapo official and Lieutenant Hoffman tagging a long, she had no idea. Had he known they would be accompanying them? Or had this been an unexpected hiccup in his plan? Did he have a backup if this went wrong?

She was pulled from her thoughts as S.S. Wagner pushed her forward, towards the backdoor of the jeep. Lieutenant Hoffman opened the door, hoisting her into the backseat before attempting to climb in behind her.

"What are you doing?" Josef asked, stepping between him and the vehicle.

"I just thought I'd give the two higher ranking officers the front seats," Lieutenant Hoffman shrugged innocently. Josef hesitated, glancing over his shoulder, his gaze lingering on Mila for only a second before stepping out of Lieutenant Hoffman's way.

She slid across the bench seat until she was seated on the driver's side, wanting to put as much distance between Lieutenant Hoffman and herself. Slipping into the backseat, Lieutenant Hoffman closed the door, inching towards Mila until their shoulders were touching. She clenched her jaw, her stomach turned upside down with revulsion as memories of their last encounter flooded her mind. She sat there, still as a statue, as Josef and S.S. Wagner climbed into the front seats.

Shifting the jeep into gear, Josef pulled out of the lot, and onto the road.

"Are you cold?" Lieutenant Hoffman asked, his breath hot against her ear. She shrugged away from him, pressing herself against the door.

"Leave her alone," Josef interjected, his tone sounding more exasperated than angry.

"What?" Lieutenant Hoffman smirked. "She might as well be wearing nothing but her shift this dress is so thin," He added, pinching the hem of the fabric between his fingers. Releasing it, he rested his hand against her knee. She drew in a sharp breath, steeling a glance into the rearview mirror. Josef's eyes were trained on the road, his expression unreadable. She looked away, out the window. By the looks of their surroundings, and the rugged, bumpy road they were now driving down, they were taking a service road to Vught. The old factories and shipping yards they'd driven past had been replaced with tall, skinny pine trees on either side of the road, the dim glow of the sunset almost obstructed entirely by the swaying branches.

Although she was seated only a few feet away from him, Josef had never felt so far out of reach. She had wanted desperately to run to him the moment she'd seen him. To cling to him and never let go. You have a part to play, she reminded herself. You both do. Somehow, someway, Josef would get her out of this. She trusted that ... She had no choice but to.

She was jolted from her thoughts as the jeep came to an abrupt halt.

"What's going on?" Lieutenant Hoffman asked. Removing his hand from her knee, he braced it against the front seat to stop himself from propelling forward. Doing the same with her bound hands, she peeked over the front seat.

There was a vehicle parked horizontally on the road, blocking them from passing. The car was on, the headlights shining into the tree line, but there didn't appear to be anyone inside. Josef shifted the jeep into park. Opening the door, he climbed out of the front seat, S.S. Wagner not far behind. Looking over his shoulder, Josef glanced between Mila and Lieutenant Hoffman.

"Stay here."

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