<div align="center">(http://media-cdn.tripadvisor.com/media/photo-s/01/10/cd/6e/paris.jpg)</div>The slow but steady drip, drip, drip of water drops falling into a body of water. That was the background music to Helen's current situation. As she studied the map she'd laid out on the small table in front of her.  The only light provided by the small lamp she had carried. It was always this way in the sewers, whether it was the sewers of Paris, Warsaw, or London didn't matter. All that mattered was that the sewers were one of the few truly private areas of any city. That was why she'd decided to make her 'base' in them. From here she could reach any area of the city, avoid any checkpoint, and escape any patrol.<br/><br/>A quick look at the pocket watch she'd placed on the map told her that it was time. Closing her eyes she whispered a quick prayer to God before reaching under the table and pulling the MP 40 she'd 'borrowed' from a German on patrol several weeks ago from where it was strapped to the table. She quickly cocked the weapon and then sat at the chair just to the right of the table, from her seat she'd have a clean line of sight on the two entrances to this part of the sewers.<br/><br/>Even though she was only to meet other members of the resistance she didn't see a reason why she shouldn't be careful...