The coffee she had drank had been almost ice cold. It was late. Those were two things that usually never a good thing whenever she was dealing with late night missions. When Bridget first joined the resistance she knew it was not going to be all fun and games. She was fighting to defend the very city she loved and free it from Nazi occupation. By the way things have been going, nothing has been looking too bright, it was almost like an endless game of tug-of-war where both sides tugged on the rope and nobody ended up falling into the mud. There have been times where they have come close to winning, and even succeeded in reclaiming a bit of the city for awhile, but the Nazis had the resistance outnumbered for the most part and morale was starting to wane. For the longest time this really was beginning to look the like Naziâ€™s had this war.<br/><br/>That was, until a discovery was made, and a very important one that was supposed to change the tide of this war once and for all, and that was exactly why she was out here tonight. Despite the pistol at her side and the dangerous look in her eyes, she did look like a civilian who had no ties to the resistance at all but that did not mean that she was not going to be careful. Keeping a low profile, she quickly yet quietly moved through the winding streets and alleyways, reaching the countryside in only a few hours. Somehow she had managed to bypass the Checkpoint leading to the countryside unseen by the Nazi patrols that were stationed around the city.<br/><br/>And a few hours ago Bridget was told she was meeting an important contact from London at exactly midnight. He was a fellow, from what she was told, by the name of Jack Carson who worked with intelligence. The information she had received on the mission had said that professor Rosebaum and his daughter had been captured by the Nazis. Soon after meeting at the rendezvous point, and old farm used by the resistance, they were to exchange information with each other and then she was to aid him and infiltrate the location where Rosebaum was supposedly being held, a factory that the Nazis had built for their needs and to establish their control over the city. One would expect them to keep someone that important well hidden, but the Nazis were usually not stupid. Adolf Hitler was an intelligent man, after all.<br/><br/>They knew exactly what they were doing; stuff like this was more often a dare than an invitation for the enemy to steal their little prizes. It always amused her how they flaunted their power so nonchalantly. Yet also very effectively, she reminded herself. Bridget had lost her father to this damned war.<br/><br/>Realizing that there was only an hour until she was meeting her contact, Bridget caught a ride with a civilian who was quite open about her hatred for this war. The woman seemed to buy her lie that she was helping her grandfather tend to yard work because he was unable in his old age. The civilian told her stories about how her son was dragged into this mess and was killed, a story that did not come as much of a surprise, and how she supports the resistance even though she herself was not much of a fighter. Also a common story. Upon reaching their destination, still keeping her distance from the farm as to not draw any suspicion, the Nazis watched France like a hawk, Bridget handed the woman a small amount of money and thanked her for the ride. She left the woman with no choice other than to accept the money before the two went their separate ways.<br/><br/>Bridget had finally reached the farm with an hour left to spare, she noticed, which pleased her greatly. She never did like do keep her contacts waiting. And from the looks of things neither did the person they were sending to meet her. She heard something overhead and noticed a parachute slowly descending to the ground. This should be interesting, she thought to herself, smiling half-heartedly as she pushed dark locks away from her face and moved to go greet him once he landed.