Mila strode down the sidewalk, her heels clicking furiously as she hurried in the direction of the War Office. She glanced down at her watch; 11:15. There wouldn't be anyone at the office at this time of night ... Not even on his latest night, had Josef stayed past 10pm.

Glancing behind her, she picked up the pace. The street was deserted, the street lamps shining incandescently on the vacant cobblestone. Still, she didn't want to linger too long and risk being seen if someone were to come along.

Grasping Josef's keyring in her pocket, she turned down the side road that led to the back entrance of the War Office. Seeing as that was the way she and Josef had left on nights he stayed late, she had decided that would be a better plan than trying to enter through the front door. Pulling out the ring, she fiddled through the various keys until she found the one she was looking for. Slipping it into the lock on the door, she twisted it, a light 'click' sounding as the door opened. Glancing over her shoulder one last time, she slipped inside, locking the door behind her.

She glided down the long hallway that led from the back entrance to the main workroom floor, careful to step on her toes so the heels of her shoes wouldn't click as loudly. She was sure she was alone in the building, but she still didn't want to take any chances by making more noise than necessary.

Finally reaching the main office, she paused with bated breath, listening intently for any signs she wasn't alone. When she heard none, she crossed the workroom floor to General Eichmann's office. Grasping the door knob, she jiggled it - locked. Of course it wouldn't be that easy, she thought with a sigh.

Pulling out the hairpin that had been holding back the curls from her face, she slipped it into the keyhole. She had never picked a lock before, but surely it couldn't be that difficult. Twisting the pin inside the lock, she jiggled the knob. After what felt like an eternity of wiggling the pin around from left to right and up to down, she heard a click.

Turning the knob with a sigh of relief, she slipped inside the office, closing the door lightly behind her. She stepped around General Eichmann's desk, the red oak bathed in the dim glow of the moonlight that was shining through the window of the office. Sifting through the various papers and files on the desktop, her eyes landed on her target.

Picking up the familiar red folder Lieutenant Hoffmann has given General Eichmann earlier that day, she opened it, scanning the pages thoroughly. There was going to be a prisoner transfer from the camp in Amersfoort to Vught. She furrowed her brow in confusion ... She didn't remember hearing about a labor camp in Vught. Was it new? She continued reading ...Apparently a large group of Dutch Resistance being held in the city jail would be transferred there as well.

Closing the folder after she had read the report in full, she placed it back in its original place and turned for the door, a deflated feeling coming over her. She had hoped the report would contain more than a few details about a prisoner transfer. She would pass the information to Harvey and Catherine nonetheless ... Maybe it was more important than it seemed.

Opening the office door, she turned the lock before slipping out and closing it behind her. Twisting the knob one last time to ensure it had locked behind her, she turned on her heel and made her way towards the hallway.

"Who do we have here?" A voice called from behind Mila, causing her to nearly jump out of her skin. She spun around, her eyes falling on four strangers standing before her. They certainly didn't work in the office, each man looking nearly as startled to see her as she was to see them.

"You're not supposed to be here," She said, squaring her shoulders, her mind racing in a million different directions. Who were they? What did they want?

"Says who?" The man who had spoken before asked. He was taller than the rest, his hair a dirty blonde color that was cropped close to his scalp.

"Who are you?" She asked, standing her ground.

"I'm sure you've heard of us," He said, taking a calculated step towards her. She looked the stranger up and down, her eyes falling on the faded orange armband embroidered with the letters 'OZO,' that was fixed around the man's sleeve.

"You're Resistance," She breathed, recognizing the symbol immediately as that of the Dutch Resistance.

"Oranje zal overwinnen," The man said smugly, pushing his arm out proudly to display the band.

"Orange will triumph," Mila repeated his words in English.

"You know Dutch?" The man said, taking another step towards her. "So you're not German, you're just a traitor."

"Leave her alone," Another man from the group stepped forward, his hair longer and darker than the first, and grabbed him by the shoulder. "She's not what we came here for."

"Yes, but she's seen us," The first man said to the other. "Which means she can turn us in," He added, nodding towards Mila. The other man looked at her, his eyes traveling down her frame, as if to size her up.

She reached reflexively for her bag, her gun clasped securely inside, but paused. If she were to fight back or alert anyone, how would she explain herself when they asked why she had been at the War Office at this time of night? After all, she wasn't supposed to've been there either. If these men saw her as a threat, pulling a gun on them was the last thing she needed to do if she wanted to keep from escalating the situation further. She let go of her bag, and took a step forward.

"I won't turn you in," She said, raising her hands cautiously.

"Humph," The first man snorted. "I'm sure."

"I won't," Mila shook her head, taking another step towards them, her hands still raised at her chest.

"Why wouldn't you?" The second man asked skeptically, though his tone sounded less hostile.

"Because," She paused, contemplating her next words. Was she really about to divulge who she was to these four strangers? Reconciling the fact that it was her best option at the moment, she inhaled sharply and spoke. "Because we're on the same side."

"Same side?" The dark haired man asked, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Yes," She nodded. "I'm working for the SIS."

"You're with the Brits?" The first man asked disbelievingly. She nodded again.

"How are we to believe you?" The dark haired man asked, but his question hadn't been threatening. Grabbing her purse, she unclasped it, slowly pulling out the silver handgun inside. The other three men stepped back reflexively, brandishing their guns at her.

"It's British issued," She said, handing it over to the dark haired man. "The fact that I didn't pull it on you the moment I saw you should be reassurance enough," She added. He held it up, inspecting it closely in the florescent glow of the moonlight that shined through the window.

"Where did you get this?" He asked, his eyes darting from the gun, to Mila.

"The agents I'm working for," She answered simply. "For protection ... If I were to need it."

The dark haired man's gaze lingered on her for a moment, his eyes narrowed as he searched her's for truth. Holding out the gun, he offered it to her.

"What are you doing?" The first man asked, his mouth gaped open as Mila accepted the gun back and stowed it in her bag.

"I believe her," The dark haired man answered, turning to his comrades. "Why make up such an elaborate lie when she could've just alerted the authorities of our presence?" He turned his attentions back to Mila. "You're not supposed to be here either, are you?" He asked.

"No," She shook her head.

"Well maybe we can help each other then," The dark haired man said, a small smile turning up the corners of his lips. "I'm Lucas," He said, extending a hand to her.

"Mila," She replied, accepting his hand and giving it a firm shake.

"This is Anton," He said, gesturing to the first man. "And this is Conrad and Hugo," He said, pointing to the two boys behind him, neither one any older than Mila's sister. "We're looking for something Mila," Lucas said, leaning in as if he didn't want anyone overhearing them, though they were still alone. "On Christmas Day, a few of our boys were taken in for questioning by Gestapo. "While they were being questioned, their families were taken ... Snatched out of their houses with no warning, and shipped off to God knows where. Anton's sister and two nephews were taken," He added, giving Anton a sympathetic glance before continuing. "We need to know where they're being held."

"I..." Mila trailed off, her mind flashing to the file Lieutenant Hoffman had given General Eichmann. The report had mentioned some suspected Dutch Resistance members who would be transported with the labor camp prisoners. Maybe these prisoners were the missing family members of the Resistance fighters. "Come with me," She said, turning on her heel. Making her way back to General Eichmann's office, she took out the same hairpin she had used to unlock the door before, and slipped it into the lock. Twisting it, the door clicked open with much more ease this time.

"That doesn't seem like the first time you've done that," Lucas commented in a whisper.

"It's not," She whispered back, opening the door with a creek. "Come on," She said, stepping inside the office, the four men following close behind her. "There's going to be a group of prisoners transferred from the labor camp in Amersfoort to a new camp in Vught," Mila began, picking up Lieutenant Hoffman's report from the General's desk. "Resistance members being held in the jails here in Den Haag are going to be transferred there as well," She continued, extending the folder for Lucas to take. He accepted it, thumbing through its pages.

"Does it mention Emily?" Anton spoke up, looking over Lucas' shoulder to read for himself.

"No names are mentioned," Mila replied, a pang shooting through her chest at the desperation on Anton's face. She knew that helpless feeling all too well. "But if your sister and her boys were taken because of their connection with Resistance, then I think there's a really good chance they're being taken to Vught."

"Thank you," Lucas said earnestly, closing the folder and handing it back to Mila once he had read it in full.

"Of course," She nodded in reply.

"You're secret's safe with us," He said, grasping her arm, giving it a light squeeze. "Be careful."

"You too," She said. Lucas nodded, giving her a gracious smile. With that, the four men turned and exited the office, leaving soundlessly the way they'd came.