Shadows of the World » Band of Brothers

16: Stubborn Hope

"There is so much stubborn hope in the human heart." - Albert Camus, The Myth of Sisyphus

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Juliette's stomach was in knots as she wandered around Paris in the light of the early morning. Her route had been perfectly coordinated to collide with Claudette Brodeur's at exactly the right moment. The thought that her target this time was one of their own made her feel almost light-headed. It was so easy to imagine it being her: a French-born British spy operating out of Paris who was walking straight into an ambush. Juliette fiddled with her fingers in front of her, her handbag hanging daintily from the crook of her right elbow as she kept her head down and her wits about her.

How she was supposed to do this, she had no idea. To send a woman who was just like her to her inevitable death, leaving her with no idea that she was about to speak her last words and take her last breaths, was almost like tying the noose herself. And God forbid that things went so awry that Martin had to step in and shoot her. Juliette couldn't think too long on that particular scenario for every time the thought popped into her head bile rose in her throat.

Juliette went over everything she had planned to say in her head one final time as she turned a corner and the building Martin would be watching from came into view. To fool a Nazi was one thing, but to deceive a spy was another. This woman had likely had the exact same training she had, so she had to be careful to deliver her most convincing performance yet.

When the woman came into view at the other end of the road Juliette began to look around confusedly, giving the appearance of being lost. Meanwhile, she stole calculated glances at the woman in order to gauge what she was dealing with. The woman was likely in her early thirties, with light brown hair and cherry red lipstick. She was dressed in the typical attire of Parisian women and, much like Juliette, carried a handbag which contained something that was much to the Nazis' misfortune.

Juliette carried on walking all the while and only paused once she'd landed right underneath the window she knew Martin would be observing from. She let out a loud huff mixed with a frustrated groan.

When the woman came nearer, Juliette spoke up. "Excusez-moi s'il vous plaît," she began through a thick German accent. "Pouvez-vous m'aider?"

"Sind Sie Deutscher?" the woman asked with a small, amused quirk of her lips. That was the foundation Juliette needed; the woman had recognised the German accent even through the French, so this was about to be much easier.

Juliette laughed with relief and thought on how strange it was that they were both pretending to be someone they weren't, though only one of them knew as much. "Ja. Sprechen Sie Deutsch?"

The woman smiled warmly at her and gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Ein Bisschen." Juliette knew she spoke more than just 'a bit' of German, but she was just keeping up appearances. She was rather good at it.

"Ausgezeichnet! In diesem Fall können Sie mir mit Richtungen helfen? Ich muss zur Gestapo-Zentrale. Wissen Sie, wo das steht?" At her mention of the Gestapo headquarters it was clear that the woman's interest was piqued, for she came a bit closer and sized Juliette up subtly. If not for her training, Juliette never would have noticed, and she made a mental note to try and abstain from doing the same thing lest Claudette recognise it in her, too.

"Ja," the French woman replied in the affirmative. "Aber warum müssen Sie da gehen?" Already, as was typical of spies, Claudette was attempting to pry for information as to why Juliette would need to go to the Gestapo headquarters.

Juliette pulled on her most ditsy smile. "Mein Mann hat mir einen Brief gegeben. Ich weiß nicht, worum es geht, aber er sagte mir, dass ich es persönlich liefern muss." She could tell that Claudette was already intrigued about the contents of the letter she spoke of, and especially as to why she had to deliver it personally. She knew that everything was falling into place.

"Es muss ganz wichtig sein," Claudette replied. Juliette gave a small, air-headed giggle and shrugged. Yes, she thought, it is rather important.

"Ich könnte es für Sie liefern," the French woman suggested. And there it was - Juliette had been hoping she'd offer to deliver the letter herself, "wenn Sie das wollen?"

Juliette feigned uncertainty - it couldn't be too easy, or she'd raise suspicion. "Ich weiß es nicht..." she trailed off, hoping the woman would convince her. "Wenn es so wichtig ist, soll ich wahrscheinlich -"

Claudette quickly cut her off to inform her that she was heading in that direction anyway, and that she could be trusted. "Versprochen," she added as an afterthought, attempting to reinforce both her promise and her trustworthiness.

Juliette knew that time was tricky here; Claudette was on a mission herself and was almost certain to need to be getting on her way, but would the wife of a German officer, however ditsy, really give up a letter that she knew to be of some importance that easily?

Juliette told the woman that the offer was very kind of her, but she was still unsure. "Es muss in einem Stück dorthin gelangen - aber ich habe nicht so viel Zeit... Oh, wird es nicht was für ein Problem für Sie sein?"

"Keine Umstände!" Claudette replied. Juliette smiled gratefully as she somewhat reluctantly removed the unmarked envelope from her bag.

Juliette thanked the French woman profusely as she handed it over, in both French and German, and Claudette made a big show of tucking it safely into her bag. However, wary of time, she very quickly offered her goodbyes and set off once more.

As Juliette watched the woman begin to walk away her stomach turned. This woman was walking into her death.

She couldn't help but think on how similar they were - did this woman have a team waiting for her, just like she did? Friends who relied on her and had come to know her as family? How easily it could have been her walking mindlessly into an ambush was dismaying, and she found herself, not for the first time, really thinking on her own mortality. How easy it was to die doing what they were doing, and therefore how much more important it was that they didn't.

How could she live with herself if she let this woman walk straight into an ambush? She would be disgusted at herself, but then again she already was. Was it worth risking her life for this woman she didn't even know? But then again, why should her life be more valuable than this woman's? What really made one life more worthy of saving than another?

"Excusez-moi!" Juliette called out suddenly, this time leaving off the German accent. She rushed over to Claudette where the woman had paused in a mixture of confusion and exasperation. In order to demonstrate her clear English accent, Juliette whispered to her in English, "I know who you are. Claudette Brodeur, right? You're a British spy and you used to work for the Maquis. I need you to know that you're about to walk into an ambush. The Nazis know who you are and they know what you're about to try to do. They'll attempt to take you in for interrogation and you'll have to use your cyanide. I need you to trust me on this."

Juliette could see the turmoil on Claudette's face plainly, the first real emotion she'd seen from the woman. Eventually, she replied, "If you know what I am about to do and you do not work for the Germans, why would you try to stop me?"

Juliette had to fight to maintain composure and not let out the frustrated growl that bubbled up in her chest. "Because they know who you are! They've set up a trap and you're about to walk straight into it. You need to trust me!"

"I trust no one."

"I was sent to plant false intel on you for the Germans to find on your dead body, I swear to you I'm not lying. I promise." Juliette was pleading with her at this point. She wondered distantly whether Martin was still watching her. "God, I'm British!"

"And yet, you have a perfect German accent."

"And a perfect French one, too!" Juliette felt like ripping her hair out. They were running out of time, and there was little more she could do. "If you turn that corner and continue on with your mission you are walking into your death, I swear it."

The woman took a step back from her and thrust her shoulders back, tilting her chin up proudly. "To go out of this world bringing down the Nazis is as good a way as any."

With that, the woman turned on her heel and continued on the way she had been going, and Juliette felt like collapsing into a puddle of tears on the floor.

What a terrible burden it was to know that someone was about to die. A terrible, terrible burden indeed.