Bella Ciao

Victoire

Victoire stared up at the ceiling, her arms crossed across her chest. Their Italian contact, Lia had stopped crying about an hour ago. It made her feel terrible that she hadn't understood her, but the resistance weren't the source to give you enough time to learn a language before they post you somewhere. She would have gone to comfort her, but Victoire wouln't know where to begin- Rose was the people person in their partnership. And besides, from the choked way she was crying it seemed that she didn't want them to know she was crying. Emotions were treacherous like that- they could be silent, until you were trying to find them.

She heard a creak from next to her, and the light spilling in from the hallway revealed Rose sitting up on her own bed across the room from her. Victoire sat up and shuffled over as the British woman crossed the room, sat on Victoire's bed and swung her legs out in front of her.

"Can't sleep?" Victoire asked, in english- both could speak fluent english and french, so it didn't really matter which one they used.

"No." Rose sighed. "I just thought we'd be more equipped to deal with this. Correction, I thought the Resistance would equip us more for this."

"Mmm. Shame there isnt just an information booklet on 'how to break the language barrier.'"

"That would be handy. But no, it's just the orders from command to lie low in Italy for a whlie. To make it to the contact's adress and await further instructions." Rose snorted. "Honestly. 'Await further instructions.' You'd think they were the Central Service or the Secret Police."

"Well, they are trying to be their equal I suppose."

The two fell silent for a moment as the two let the thought sink into their mind. The higher ups in Resistance seemed to know what they were doing, but then again how would she know if they did? Neither were winning against the other, that much Victoire knew- they were locked, permanently in running battle. They ran, met, the Government won, the ran, met, the Resistance won... it was never ending. Eventually, something had to give. There needed to be an odd number pulled from the hat, a decisive blow delivered, and it could be struck at any time by either side.

"I should scout out the area tomorrow. Establish a network." Victoire muttered, partly to herself as she once more stared at the ceiling.

"Like the one we had is Paris? And London?" Rose asked. Victoire registering the amusement in her voice at their late triumph. "They were efficient as heck. No one wiped their nose without us knowing."

"And Versailles- we had one in Versailles."

"That was a good one."

They grinned at the memory, and then once more lapsed ino companionable silence, not voicing what Victoire knew they were both thinking. Their network really was very good- now neither had no idea what state it was in. The command of all the places that they had so meticulously set up, all the contacts and safe houses and points of intrigue, the entire damned map, was now in the command of the least appropriate person for the job. The one Resistance member Victoire had met so far who she had deemed to be uttely incompetant, with the gift of being able to ruin every unscrupulous plan without fail. Even if there had been literally no way it could have gone wrong.

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Victoire woke up the next morning with no memory of going to sleep, Rose gone from the room, and the smell of eggs, breakfast muffins and fresh coffee. For a dizzying moment, she thought she was back home in her cosy two room apartment in Paris, but then the Italian sun streaming in and the absence of the Eiffel Tower in her window view brought her back to stark reality. Her apartment was a renovated attic a few streets away from the town centre, the one with the cheapest rent, but to her it was a palace. She missed it.

Banishing thoughts of missing things from her mind, Victoire leapt from the bed and fliging open her luggage she rummaged for something suitable to wear.