“Right. Gentlemen, gather around. You are about to see our destiny.” They all pressed in around her, like shoppers with their noses scrunched against the windows to see the Christmas displays. She reached into her pocket and removed a folded sheet of paper. She unfolded it, as they leaned in closer to see, and spread it on the table. A map of northern France, with annotations dotted along the beaches and towns, stared up at them. They watched her expectantly, waiting to hear what secrets the map held. A half smile leaked from the corner of her mouth, as she said something. They looked at her blankly, not fully comprehending what she had said. One of the older members threw his hands up in thanksgiving.
“Thank you!” He directed his words toward the heavens. Victoire’s eyes met his and she nodded, her smile growing. Then, turning to her compatriots, she repeated herself— this time in French.
“You better practice your English boys. The Allies are coming.”
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