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It’s been nearly two hours since Andrée was taken. Not a word spoken. Just the Militia waiting for their prey, while Louis and Tina wait for disaster.

Tina suddenly speaks. “I’m hungry. I don’t know about you.”

“I’m not interested in your hunger,” the leader tells her.

“I have food in the kitchen. I can make something for all of us. Cook up something. If we are to leave here, why don’t we eat what we’ve got so it doesn’t go to waste?”

The leader thinks for a moment. His stomach growls. They haven’t eaten since early morning. “Why not? We’re not going anywhere.” He points to a colleague. “Go with her.”

The designated militiaman follows Tina into the kitchen and watches as she takes bread from the cupboard. From a different cupboard, she takes two precious eggs, the last small hunk of cheese, and two small beef sausages that someone left with Maurice that very morning. She’s relieved the young man watching her doesn’t think to ask where it came from. Bowls and utensils join the food on the bench. Tina is careful not to disturb the towel covering the hidden documents. These men are quite hopeless, she thinks to herself.

“Excuse me, young man. I don’t like anyone in the kitchen when I’m cooking. Why don’t you join the others, and I will bring it out to you when I’m done?”

Without a word, he retreats back into the living room.

Tina puts a pan on the stove. Within moments, the smell of sausage cooking fills the apartment. Rich. Intoxicating. A rare treat.

Satisfied no one is watching, she quickly moves the compromising documents over to the stove and opens the door, stoking the flames. Evidence must be destroyed while she’s alone in the room.

With one hand feeding the documents into the flames, the other stirring the pan, breaking the eggs into a small bowl to whisk with a fork, the meal comes together. Her fingers throb. Blisters forming as she burns her hand along with the papers. But she doesn’t stop.

Only when she is sure all the papers have been destroyed by the fire does she turn the tap on. She holds her burned hand under the water. The relief is immediate.

“Can I go and give her a hand?” Louis asks the Militia leader.

A nod of the head, which he reads as permission, and he joins Tina as she rinses the last of the ash away.

“I’ve come to help. What can I do?” he asks loudly.

“Grab the board and cut up the bread and cheese. I’ll cook up the eggs when the sausage is ready.”

Louis sees the towel that had been covering the documents now in a heap. Sees Tina’s reddened fingers. Understands immediately what she’s done. Taking her injured hand in his, he kisses each blistered finger.

He has loved this woman since they were teenagers. He has never loved her more than he does in this moment.

Putting his arms around her waist, he draws her close. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

She smiles. “Not since this morning.”

“Keep talking as if I’m still in the room. I’m going to sneak down the backstairs and find Maurice. Ask him to warn the others, not to let anyone come up.”

Tina nods, understanding.

As he grasps the doorknob to open the discreet door in the corner the leads to the back staircase, Tina speaks up, louder than necessary.

“I think if I beat these eggs long enough, I can make them stretch out for everyone to have a bit.”

The door closes soundlessly behind him.

Regretting he is still wearing his slippers, Louis stumbles and slides down the worn timber stairs. The wood is smooth, treacherous. Second floor. First floor. On the ground floor, he cautiously peers down the corridor, looking at the apartments beyond and the foyer leading to the front door.

He doesn’t for a moment think about walking out that door. Escaping. Leaving Tina. Leaving Andrée. His destination is Maurice’s small apartment. It is Maurice who can save their network.

Now glad he is in his slippers, he is silent.

As always during the day, Maurice’s apartment door is ajar. Louis knows he will be sitting just inside, where he can hear everyone coming and going, taking note of who they are. For convenience, the front door is not locked during daylight hours.

Knocking gently, he pushes the door open. “Maurice, are you there?”