Dangerous Territory

The Freedom Group

Just before midnight, Jean marched out of the officer's hotel with Armin by his side. Both men wore rain ponchos against the downpour, packs slung over their shoulders, and their weapons ready as if prepared for combat; however, this time it was not against an enemy they ever thought they would fight.

Jean's motorcycle was parked nearby, something he had petitioned to get after he returned from the front lines in the south. Armin sat in the side car with the bags stored by his feet. They both lowered goggles to help them see in the rain. Then, with a roar of the engine, they drove off into the night.

Metz was silent except for the patter of raindrops in puddles. Even the soldiers at the blockade they came across looked sleepy, and they did no more than check their identifications before letting Jean drive by.

The cathedral loomed ominously in front of them, as if God himself was prepared to smite some souls that night. Armin said a short prayer and crossed himself as they drove past the gothic arches and headed toward the bookstore.

Jean stopped the bike a little down the street and looked up ahead at the store. There was no doubt about it: that was the place Levi mentioned, the new headquarters of the French Resistance.

"I'm either going to betray my country, or get shot by the enemy," he mumbled.

Armin wished he could give him some encouragement, but he knew this was a dangerous move. There was no going back after this.

Jean let out a sigh and began to walk forward. His eyes darted around in the midnight storm. Damn the rain! If it had been quieter, he might have been able to hear noises and know where the partisans were, or even see their shadows in the moonlight. As it was, he could not see nor hear anything.

Suddenly, Jean stopped short. Eren used to say that Jean had a sixth sense, while Connie teased it was his horse sense. Maybe those two were right, because despite the darkness and noisy rain, he knew there was a gun pointed at him. Slowly, his hands raised.

"Mir wurde gesagt, ich solle hierherkommen." I was told to come here.

Jean waited, but he did not hear or see anything. Did they not understand?

"Ich komme in Frieden. Frieden!" I come in peace. Peace!

He knew this was all futile unless they had someone who spoke German. Searching his mind for the little bits of French he learned from his aunt, Jean tried again.

"Je ... Je viens ... en paix." I come in peace. Then he mumbled in German, "Verdammt, ich hoffe, das ist richtig." Damn, I hope that's right.

Finally, he heard the sound of footsteps, and his attention went straight to the source. A shadow was moving, and soon a man in a black trench coat and fedora came forward. As the man got closer, Jean saw a revolver in his hand pointed right at him.

"Ne lui tire pas dessus. Nous pourrions attirer une attention non désirée. On le tuera dans la librairie." Don't shoot him. We could attract unwanted attention. We'll kill him inside the bookstore.

Jean only understood a few words. The man used his gun to motion him to step toward the store. Jean was ready to simply follow and hope Fate was on his side when he heard footsteps coming up the road. Armin! He wanted to look around, but he knew any quick movements could result in both of them getting shot.

Armin had the black backpack slung on his shoulder and his hands raised high. Calling out into the storm, he said, "Levi nous a dit de venir ici." Levi told us to come here.

Now the man looked stunned. "Levi? Savez-vous où il est?" Do you know where he is?

"Non, je ne sais pas." No, I don't know. "Je m'appelle Armin, et lui c'est Jean. Nous sommes des amis de Levi." My name is Armin, and he is Jean. We are friends of Levi.