Arsenic

V

  The wheels of Eloise's bike continued to apply friction onto the dirt road that she traversed on. She eventually stopped her cycling once she saw a familiar building. Eloise got off her bike and took it towards the building. As she approached closer, the building's features became more distinct and detailed. It seemed to be a regular pub- its exterior being painted white and brown.
  The pub was owned by Resistance fighters where SOE agents and members alike could stay and use as a safehouse.
  Eventually, she was close enough to the pub where she could set her bike against the wall. Eloise walked towards the entrance and entered inside the building.
  The interior was mostly wooden; the material making up the floor and the walls. The wood was adequately clean- not impeccably polished or overly dirty. The shelves were filled with multiple glasses filled with beverages.
  However, Eloise's gaze was instantly diverted towards her smiling, waving colleague. He had short, light blonde hair with light green eyes with an amicable expression. He held a cup in his hand as he beckoned her to come closer.
  Eloise responded to his gesture by sitting down on a chair next to him.
  "The mission was successful, Sigurd." she informed. "These resistance fighters learn well quickly."
  Sigurd took a sip from his cup. "That's good to hear. They're farmers as well, I believe?"
  She nodded in response.
  "That's quite useful." he stated as he looked at the counter that his beverage was placed on. "Drystan has not assassinated Barrett yet. What an oddity- he usually gets his missions done."
  "Barrett is blood related to one of the Resistance fighters in the farm. Perhaps, he has reached a negotiation with her." Eloise suggested.
  "I suppose that's a possibility. At least there's some insurance with that Resistance fighter. However, it is imperative that Barrett no longer poses as an obstacle to us." he stated as he stared at his liquid reflection inside his cup. "But he's up to something."
  "Are you hinting at betrayal?"
  "Of course not. We know how much Drystan is completely is apathetic towards the Germans."
  "I see."
  Sigurd took another sip from his drink. "You have a mission along with another Resistance fighter codenamed Helmut to rescue an allied airman and safely transport him to Saint-Jean-de-Luz where he will be close to the border between France and neutral Spain. You'll meet a fellow agent codenamed Ciro who will do the rest to transport him back to Britain."
  "Where do I meet this other Resistance fighter?"
  "Wear an orange blouse in the Cafe de Flore at 6 A.M tomorrow."
  "Understood. May I ask how you got in contact with this Resistance fighter?"
  "He requested assistance for an SOE network as he found the airman himself and I offered our services through newspaper."
  Eloise took out her notepad and pen from her breast pocket, flipped to the nearest blank page, and quickly wrote down a note. Once she had finished writing, she folded the note, returned her belongings into her pocket- along with a note.
  "Good luck on that mission." he grinned.
  The agent got up from her chair and intended to exit the pub.
  "Aren't you going to stay a bit longer for a drink?"
  She paused as she turned back to face him. "No thank you, I simply do not have the time."
  "Overly committed as usual." he remarked. "Be cautious of any Germans walking around- they've been sending more people to the Gestapo more frequently."
  Eloise nodded in consideration for his warning and walked out of the safehouse. She took her bike by the handle and started walking towards the road with it. However, she halted her advancement as she detected a German officer within her sight.
  She immediately resumed on getting on her bike- hoping that the patrolling officer would not find her suspicious. Eloise placed her foot on one of the pedals, tension arising within her as she attempted to avoid eye contact as much as possible.
  "Where would you be going, miss?"
  Eloise found priority to stay calm.
  "I'm going to my workplace." she answered with insincere content in her voice. "I wouldn't want to be late for work."
  He nodded in acknowledgement of her answer. "Would you mind if I borrowed a few minutes of your time? Only a few minutes will do."
  Eloise gripped onto one of handles of bike tightly- an attempt to relieve some of her stress before letting go. She took her foot off one of the pedals and directed her gaze towards the soldier. The agent did her best to conceal her underlying hatred and anxiety eating her away inside.
  She made sure not to sigh as she stared right into his ominous gaze.
  "A dog bites you." he began. "It does not know any better or perhaps- it was told to bite you."
  Eloise listened intently, mostly puzzled by his words.
  "You kill the dog. Whether you shoot it or stab it- it matters not. In the end, you choose to take its life in response of its attack." the soldier continued. "It is a mere animal, yet you feel guilty for taking its life- as it does not know any better or it was merely following orders from its owner."
  The soldier turned his gaze towards the ground. "The aminosity originated from the owner or from fear. Yet why do we kill the dog- the instrument used by the feeling of fear or by its owner?"
  "Perhaps, the owner is not within sight and you merely eliminate one of their weapons aimed at you. We are also like dogs- governed by fear. Similar to them, we can be killed the same way."
  "If commanded by its master, is the dog at fault?"
  "Yes. The disobedient dogs- however, would not bear any faults."
  "Would you feel guilty for the obedient dogs?"
  "Perhaps, it depends what type of dog it is. Perchance, it is worth sparing given the proper situation."
  "It is always better to kill the owner before his malice is transferred to his dogs- is it not?"
  "It is, but better to shoot the animals for your own safety- regardless if they are obedient or fearful."
  "Hm." he acknowledged. "I thank you for enlightening me with this conversation. Good rest of your day, miss."
  Eloise saw the patrolling officer walk away in a uniform fashion. Like a tight, sturdy rope that had its threads pulled apart- all of her built up tension was released with a sigh. Although, she was left enthralled by the exchange.
She dismissed any feelings of fascination and quickly got onto her bicycle. Eloise exuded a cautious sensation; specifically for the dubious soldier.
  She gripped onto the handles tightly and peddled towards her destination down the road. Eloise quickened her pace, unwilling to be interrupted by almost every other circumstance.
  Soon, she stopped her peddling by a small, broken down, and disregarded building. Eloise stared it, familiar with the debris surrounding it- those pieces formerly being a part of the broken edges of the building. It was mostly discolored; the white paint being dusted with hues of grey and beige.
The agent got off her bike and put it onto the exterior wall- where she could see the paint chipping off. She unraveled a white blanket covering the basket attached to her bicycle. There; a Swedish turnip in the basket.
  She took the vegetable and hid it within her coat. Eloise entered inside the abandoned building- an amicable smile on her face as she drew closer.
  As she approached, a dirty and awfully skinny little boy could be seen laying down on the filthy floor. Dirt tainted his clothes and pale, starved cheeks.
  Like a dim candle lighting up, he smiled weakly at the agent's presence. A grin decorated Eloise's features as she pulled out the turnip from within her coat.
  "Hello there." she pleasantly spoke as she walked closer to the boy. "It's me again- with another favor and a big turnip just for you."
  She gently handed the boy a small, folded piece of paper. "Please deliver this to the same place from last time, but put it under the door. As always, you can have the turnip- okay?"
  The boy took the piece of paper from her fingertips and nodded.
  Eloise took out a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped the dirt off the boy's cheeks. She smiled at the young boy once again.
  "Go on now." she encouraged as she handed the boy the Swedish turnip.
  The child shoved both objects into his pockets. She watched as the dirty orphan boy ran out of the discarded and empty house- its dissipated remains left by Allied bombings.