"Alright," General Eichmann stood to his feet, signaling the end of that morning's meeting. "I believe that's all for today."

Stifling a yawn, Mila packed up her typewriter, and gathered up the pages of minutes she'd transcribed during the meeting. Standing to her feet, she headed for the door, her eyes scanning the dwindling crowd of uniforms for Josef. He would probably already be on the way to his office, having been using every second of spare time to work on his report.

Josef had been working tirelessly, staying late every evening, and waking up early to arrive at the office before anyone else. She'd spent most of the nights perched in her usual spot in the chair across from Josef's desk, but had been turning in earlier than usual this week. She was tired, and not just the kind of tired one might feel from staying up too late a few nights in a row. She was exhausted, and no matter how much she slept, it seemed as though she'd never be able to shake the feeling. Josef thought she might be on the brink of a cold, but she'd chocked it up to stress.

Josef's report had grown exponentially in size since she'd taken a peek at it nearly two weeks prior, and she hadn't managed to get her hands on it again since. She also hadn't heard a thing from Harvey or Catherine, despite their promise to send word soon. She'd contemplated stopping by once or twice, but had thought better of it. Besides, there was really no new information to pass along except for the impending visit from the head of Gestapo. That, in and of itself, was enough reason to stay away, at least until Heinrich Muller was back in Berlin.

"Ms. Vanderwall," General Eichmann's voice called from behind her. Turning on her heel, she faced him. "A word?"

"Of course sir," She nodded, striding back to his place at the head of the conference table.

"As I'm sure you know, Heinrich Muller will be arriving this Friday," He began in a business like tone. "Mrs. Eichmann and myself will be hosting him for dinner that night. I'd like Captain Fischer and yourself to attend as well."

"Oh. I-uh ... Okay," She replied awkwardly, taken aback by the invitation. "Sir, I don't mean to sound ungrateful, but ... Why me?" She asked after a moment. "I'm sure there are plenty of other, more important, people with more interesting things to say."

"There will be plenty of time for Mr. Muller to talk policy and politics," General Eichmann replied with a coy smile. "This is more of a ... domestic endeavor."

"I see," She nodded. "So you want someone ordinary in attendance." The thought of having dinner with Heinrich Muller didn't sit well with her, but she couldn't say no. She would have to grin and bear it. Besides, when else would she get the opportunity to dine with the head of the Gestapo. It would be the best, if not only time, to gather information she'd otherwise never have access to. After all, tight lips always tended to loosen in friendly company, especially when there was alcohol involved.

"I was going to say someone unaffiliated with the government or military," He chuckled. "But yes. Someone ordinary," He repeated her turn of phrase.

"Does Captain Fischer know yet?" She asked. It seemed odd that General Eichmann would extend an invitation like this to her instead of Josef.

"I'll leave that to you," He smiled. "Cocktail hour starts at 5:30."