She awoke the next morning and washed her face, trying not to relive last night's events. Today was a new day, and she was determined to keep it that way. The mission was the most important thing. If they failed it could mean the death of countless men, women, and children. Failure was never an option, and it wouldn't become one now. She walked out of the bedroom and found he was already in the kitchen making breakfast.

"Good morning," He greeted her as he put toast and eggs onto a plate. "I took the liberty of making breakfast for you today. My way of apologizing for my behavior last night."

"Yes, well about last night," She began. "I need to apologize to you too. I was unprofessional and rude because I was still annoyed about the last minute changes. None of that is your fault, though, so I'm sorry I took it out on you."

He stared back at her for a few moments before answering.

"Seeing as I behaved extremely unprofessionally as well, I can forgive you if you can forgive me."

"Yes, of course." She replied, smiling and taking a seat at the table. "We need to focus on the task at hand. And right now that isn't a small task."

"What progress have you made so far?" He asked, pouring himself a cup of tea.

"Next to none honestly. My German isn't where it needs to be to fully infiltrate correspondence, but I've kept up with most of the Gestapo's routes and of course their key locations both known and unknown to the public throughout Paris and its surrounding area." She paused before continuing. "A Gestapo major came in with a search party the other day. It caught me completely off guard, so I'm worried someone might have tipped them off about there being a Canadian in the flower shop."

"Could you not pose as a French civilian?"

"A true Parisian could identify me at the drop of a hat. In fact, the major's translator immediately recognized my accent as Quebec. Tried as I might I just couldn't shake it. Better to embrace it than be caught in a lie."

"True," He agreed, yet his face looked worried. "So what about this major then? Do you think he'll come back?"

She sighed heavily in disgust. "I hope not."

"If he does, what's the plan?"

"It all depends on the situation, you know that. Either way, I'll play it cool. I won't blow my cover, I've worked too hard to lose it now." She picked at the food on her plate. "Even if he does come back, it won't be for an inspection of the shop. He made his intentions towards me all too clear last time."

"Well you'll have to inform him that your husband is back." He winked and she laughed slightly.

"Absolutely," She raised her glass to cheers his mug with her own. "We are henceforth Marie and Gilbert Tremblay. Married for just two years. You're a film critic who's moved to Paris both to continue your study of European cinema and appease your darling wife who longs to be back with the only family she has left." He laughed shortly as she smiled fakely at him. "The end goal as you already know is to blow up The Ritz theater at Goebbel's film premiere of Nation's Pride, and of course with your extensive knowledge of the European film industry, it shouldn't be too hard to blend in."

He nodded. "I understand the basterds are already equipped with the explosives, but how can we smuggle those in unnoticed?"

"That's one thing we need to talk to Aldo about at our next meeting," She continued. "It's bad enough to be from an enemy country in a room full of Nazis, but it's a hell of a lot more conspicuous to limp in with dynamite around our ankles. Besides, there's no way I could bring any in unless they expect me to wear a fucking hoop skirt or something."

"Very well then," He laughed and took a long drag on his cigarette and stamped it out. "We'll iron out the details later. I'll begin by making contact with our agent, Bridget Von Hammersmark."

"Shouldn't I go with you?"

"Of course. It would look a little suspicious if a man has dinner with a movie star without his wife, wouldn't it?"

She smiled sarcastically once more and took her dishes to the sink.

"I work today, but set it up anyway. I'll make the dinner whenever it is."

"Good. I'll make contact and set something up as soon as possible."

"Good." She replied.

Working with him was seamless so far, which surprised her given how skeptical she was just the night before. At that they said their goodbyes, and she began her commute to the shop, praying it would just be an average day with no interruptions.

"Marie, you were almost late today," her boss scolded her in French.

"I'm sorry, madam, but my husband came back last night." She smiled shyly.

"Ah, I see." The woman smiled back and nodded her head. "Well while you were off enjoying your second honeymoon a Gestapo major came in here looking for you yesterday." Anna's face fell. "When exactly were you going to tell me that the shop was inspected?"

"I'm sorry," She started. "With yesterday being my day off, I didn't think –"

"Exactly, you didn't think!" The woman yelled back. "You don't even leave a note or anything. Can you imagine how I must have felt when I saw that swastika-wearing pig walk through the door? My poor heart nearly gave out!"

"I'm sorry." She sighed. "Truly sorry."

"As you should be. You will stay late and clean this shop top to bottom. Is that understood?"

"Yes, madam." She replied as she hung her head.

That evening as Anna was scrubbing the windows, she saw a familiar vehicle pull up to the curb. Her heart fell into her stomach as she saw Major Hellstrom get out. Thinking quickly she feigned a smile and unlocked the door for him.

"Major," She greeted him, giving him her hand. "You came back."

"Of course," He smiled. "You say that as if you're surprised."

She paused and smiled to herself. "That's kind of a double-edged sword, isn't it? If I say I am, then it seems as though I believe you to be callous. But if I say I'm not, then it's as if I think you're too eager. Don't you think?"

He laughed slightly. Her wit caught him off guard. Maybe it was because he'd hung around the French whores the other Gestapo officers kept for too long, but he wasn't used to a woman like her. It only served to further intrigue him.

"I suppose you are right, mademoiselle," He moved closer. "Although of those two, I think I favor the latter."

He smiled widely as if he believed himself to be successfully trapping his prey. And who's to say he was wrong? She was powerless to say otherwise without angering him. Her only defense was to smile and pretend to be flattered.

"I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by to ask if you'd like to have dinner with me tonight."

"Oh," she sighed, thankful now more than ever that she had a ring on her finger. "I'm sorry, major, I wish I could, but my husband has come to Paris. He got in just last night."

"Your husband?" He asked, shifting his gaze to her ring finger.

"Yes, sir. He's been away on business, but he's finally joined me here."

"I see," Dieter swallowed hard and faked a smile to hide his embarrassment. "And what business is he in?"

"He's a film critic, actually. He's devoted his entire life to studying film, so when I begged him to rejoin my family in Paris he naturally jumped at the opportunity."

"I see," He replied. "I'm assuming his studies extend to German cinema as well."

"Naturally," She replied without a hitch. "In fact we hope to attend the premiere of Nation's Pride. Gilbert is good friends with Bridget Von Hammersmark, and she's so kindly invited us as her personal guests."

"Really?" He asked, astounded and a little jealous that Marie's husband was apparently so established in the film industry. But he had a better connection that not even her oh so popular husband could make. "In that case, perhaps he'd be interested in speaking with Joseph Goebbels himself. I have it on good authority that he is in town. We're having lunch tomorrow – care to join?"

"Oh, major, we'd be honored." She smiled, and her glee was not hard to fake. She was curious as to why he so eagerly invited both of them, but this opportunity to collect intel straight from the source was too good to pass up. Meanwhile, Major Hellstrom believed his prey to be closer to the trap than ever before.

"Wonderful. This way we can still keep our engagement, and I can size up the competition at the same time." He laughed.

"Competition? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean."

"Even a married woman can change her mind, can't she?" She paused, unsure of what to say, but the major continued. "The Chez Maurice at noon sharp. I can send the car for you if you'd like."

"That won't be necessary, major."

"Call me Dieter please."

"Oh, of course, Dieter. I have to work, but I'm sure madam won't mind if I take an extended lunch break."

His mouth gaped slightly at this.

"What kind of a husband allows his wife to work during such a time as this? If you were mine, you wouldn't have to lift a finger for anything." He said, taking her hand in his.

"I'm flattered," She laughed nervously. "But believe it or not I like working. And someone had to pay the rent before my husband got here."

"Well, I stand by my statement." He looked intently at her. "You should never want for anything."

"Thank you, major." He held up a finger as if to scold her and she laughed. "I mean, Dieter."

"You're very welcome, Marie. And I suppose I should thank your husband – if you hadn't been working I never would've gotten to meet you."

He smiled before kissing her hand and wishing her a good night. Her stomach turned. After all this he was still trying to get her into bed. Even when he knew she had a husband. If she thought the Nazis had no boundaries before, this conversation sealed it. She could deal with the major later, but for now she needed to get home and tell Archie of their new lunch date.