"I can pull the panties down myself, thank you." Sorry." Steven, I am somewhat edgy lately. But I didn't mean to offend you." I understand," he squeezed my left palm delicately. "Call me when you are ready!" he said and left.As I finished, Steven carried me back."The next time I will use the crutches. I promise." As you please. It's up to you. I don't mind helping you. Your broken leg has to be elevated most of the time. By the way, how is the sprained ankle?" Fine."Steven removed the dressing. The swelling was almost gone. After examining it, he tightly bandaged it anew."Let's adjust the crutches," he said.I noticed the green clogs near the bed."The right one is useless," I said."Just temporarily," Steven answered.Then he slipped the left shoe on my foot and helped me stand up, putting his arm round my waist. I winced as the blood rushed down my shattered leg. Balancing on my almost good leg precariously, I writhed with pain. The room swam before my eyes. In this moment, I realized. His mouth did remain open though as Duncan and the young woman kissed.When the pair finally came up for air Georges was still staring. Duncan released the woman and turned towards his friend."This is my friend, and fellow Resistance operative, Georges Dalou." I am very pleased to meet you," the red-head said in pure Parisian French."But, but, but..." stammered Georges."Oh." Green eyes twinkled. "Duncan did not introduce me did he? I am Lieutenant Deirdre O'Connor, Army of the United States and presently attached to the Office of Strategic Services."Georges' mouth gaped open even wider, if that were possible. "You're an Allied agent?" One of the best," confirmed Duncan. "And an old friend." I must say I wasn't expecting you Duncan," smiled Deirdre. She grew serious. "In fact, I was worried you might be someone else." Oh?" He calls himself 'Ernest Daimler'." When Georges turned his head and spat Deirdre nodded. "He's a Major in the Wehrmacht and seems to be as dedicated a Nazi as any.
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