"Ah," Mila heard a voice say, "You're awake."

"Whe-Where am I?" She asked, her eyes fluttering open, squinting as they adjusted to the fluorescent glow of a light. Her head was throbbing, her vision still blurry from whatever injury she'd incurred. "Wha-What happened?" She asked, trying to pinpoint the last thing she remembered. Why was her head hurting so bad? Trying to lift her hand to her temple, she realized for the first time, that she was restrained.

Blinking her eyes into focus, she looked around, taking in her surroundings. She was at the center of a small, cinder block room. A single fluorescent light flickered above her, casting a shadow across the farthest corners of the room. A table sat before her, Lieutenant Hoffman seated on the other side of it.

"Tell me, Ms. Vanderwall," He began, placing his clasped hands on the table as he leaned forward. "How does a Jewish girl from Holland become an informant for British intelligence?" He paused, a knowing smirk turning up the corners of his mouth. "Or should I call you Ms. Goldstein?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," She shook her head. He knew. How did he know? Had whoever called Josef, also told Lieutenant Hoffman? She swallowed down the sinking feeling in her gut, trying her best to keep her expression neutral.

"Humph ... Of course you don't," He chuckled, standing to his feet. "Two British agents were picked up yesterday evening and brought in for questioning," He began, walking around the table. "After nearly twenty seven hours, it seems ... Harvey, is it?" He asked, watching her expression closely at the mention of her handler's name. "Couldn't take another moment of his precious Catherine being tortured," He continued, "So he gave you up instead."

Placing his hands on the arm rests of the chair Mila was tied to, he pushed it back, standing squarely in front of her now. "I'll ask you again ... How does a Jewish girl from Holland get herself mixed up with the British SIS?" He asked, stooping down, his hands still resting on the arms of the chair.

"You seem to have all the answers. Why don't you tell me?" She replied, dropping all pretenses of innocence. He knew who she was ... There was no denying it now. Rearing back, he slapped her hard across the face, her head snapping to the side as his hand connected with her cheek. Blinking back the tears that had formed in her eyes, she glared at him, refusing to show any weakness.

"You know," He began, "I knew there was something off about you." Bringing a hand up, he brushed a finger across her reddened cheek causing her to wince. "I never would've thought you were the mole though." Dropping his hand, he rested it on her knee, sliding it slowly up her thigh, the skirt of her dress rising with it.

"You're a coward," She spat, jerking her leg away from his touch.

"How's that?" He smirked, gripping her inner thigh roughly, holding it in place.

"You think you're such a man ... Doing all this while I'm tied up and can't fight back," She said through gritted teeth.

Standing up straight, his smirk widened. Taking out his knife from its sheath, he circled around to the back of her chair before roughly grabbing her wrists. She felt the ropes that had bound her, loosen as they were cut off, falling to the floor.

"Go ahead," He said, still standing behind her. "Fight back."

Slowly, she stood to her feet and turned around to face him. He was watching her, an amused expression on his face. She glanced between him and the door, weighing her options. She could run ... But she had no clue where she was, or how many German officers were waiting for her on the other side of that door. She could fight ... Try and steal the gun from the holster on his hip ... Or maybe the knife?

"I'm waiting," He mocked, holding his hands out to the side as if to say 'come and get me.' He was enjoying this. Taking a deep breath in an effort to slow her racing pulse, she tried to think clearly. The pills ... Her mind flashed to the tube that held the two cyanide capsules Harvey had given her ... The tube she had been carrying in her pocket when she'd entered the War Office earlier that night. Shoving her hand into the pockets of her dress, she felt around for the cool metal of the tube

"Looking for this?" Lieutenant Hoffmann's mocking voice called. She looked up, her stomach filling with an overwhelming feeling of dread as her eyes darted to the glinting object he held between his index and middle finger. The pills.

"Your dear friend Catherine had one just like this," He said, turning it over in his fingers. Unscrewing the cap, he emptied the tube's contents into his palm. "They caught her trying to take them," He continued, holding up the capsules. "Too bad she wasn't successful," He went on, dropping them to the floor. "She would've had a much more dignified death."

Stepping on them, he crushed the pills, a small pile of white dust the only remaining remnant of the hope she'd had for a way out. Wiping the powder away with his boot, he took a step towards her. She shoved the chair sitting between them at him and ran for the door.

She had made it only a few strides before a hand gripped her, yanking her backwards by her hair. She yelped in pain as she was thrown to the floor, the wind whooshing out of her lungs as she hit the concrete with a thud.

"Good try," Lieutenant Hoffman chuckled maliciously. Without warning, he reared back, the toe of his boot connecting with her ribs. She cried out, though only a small gasp escaped her lips, her lungs still empty from getting the air knocked out of them. Rolling over, she cradled her abdomen, gasping for air as another blow connected with her stomach.

"Not so tough now, are we?" He jeered, the malevolent grin he wore evident in his voice. Crouching down, he grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking her to her feet. Reaching up, she grasped his hand, trying to pry away his grip as he dragged her. Shoving her forward, she rammed into the table.

Turning to face him, she backed away, skirting around the table to put as much distance between them as possible. Her throat tightened as she watched him, her heart hammering inside her chest. He was watching her, his smirk wider than before as he approached her slowly. She backpedaled away from him as he closed the distance between them. This wasn't a normal interrogation. This was personal ... Revenge for her rejecting him.

"You're just angry," She spat out, pushing down the panic that threatened to overtake her. "Angry that I don't want you ... That I never wanted you!" She pressed on, her back hitting the wall behind her. He had made his way around the table now, closing the remaining distance between them agonizingly slow. He was toying with her...

"I don't really care what you do or don't want," He chuckled, only a few steps away now. She moved sideways along the wall, trying to create more space between them. She needed to buy more time so she could think of something ... Anything.

Pushing herself off the wall, she made for the opposite side of the room. He grabbed her, shoving her back against the cinderblock, the pain in her ribcage reverberating through her entire body. She turned her head, her chest heaving against his as he leaned in close. "I can't tell you how long I've wanted to do this," He spoke against her ear, grabbing her chin roughly and jerking her face around to look at him.

She pushed against him with all she had, but he remained rooted to the spot, the malicious smirk he had worn, turning up the corners of his lips again. Gripping her hips with his free hand, he pushed them back, holding her stationary against the wall.

"You disgust me," She spoke through gritted teeth. Glaring up at him, she spat in his face.

"You smug little bitch," He swore at her, releasing her chin and wiping away the spit from his cheek. Grabbing a fist full of hair, he drug her forward, throwing her down against the table. She thrashed and kicked against him as he gripped her waist, rolling her over until her stomach was lying flat on the table.

"You think you're too good for me," He continued, his tone no longer one of amusement, but of rage. Grabbing the hem of her dress, he hiked it up, separating her legs with one of his knees. "We'll see how high and mighty you are after I finish with you," He jeered, fiddling with the buckle of his pants.

"Get off me!" She screamed, reaching behind her in a frantic attempt to push him away.

"Lieutenant Hoffman," A familiar voice spoke from the door. "If you'd be so kind as to release the prisoner."

"Well isn't it your lucky day," Lieutenant Hoffman said sarcastically, releasing her waist and adjusting his trousers. "Come to take a turn?" He asked, turning his attention to Josef, who was still standing in the doorway. "Though," He continued on, grabbing Mila by the arm and yanking her off the table. "I suppose you've had several turns, haven't you?"

"I've come to interrogate the prisoner," Josef replied matter-of-factly.

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" Lieutenant Hoffman asked, pulling her against him roughly, twisting her arm behind her back. "Given the nature of your relationship?" Looking her up and down, he pulled her closer. "Besides ... We were just getting to the fun part, weren't we?" He jeered against her ear.

Mila squeezed her eyes shut, tears threatening to spill from them if she looked at Josef a second longer. He had betrayed her ... Had lied to her. And she had believed him ... Had believed he wanted to help her ... Believed he still loved her.

"That's enough," Josef spoke forcefully. "As head of security, I'm in charge of interrogations until Gestapo arrive. Thank you for your help, but you're free to go," He added stepping to the side, allowing room for Lieutenant Hoffman to exit out the door.

"Yes Captain," Lieutenant Hoffman replied sarcastically. Dragging her along with him, he shoved Mila forward, Josef catching her against his chest as Lieutenant Hoffman stalked out the door.

"Don't touch me," Mila spat once the door had closed behind the Lieutenant. She pushed against Josef's chest, trying to free herself from his grasp.

"Stop," He said softly, tightening his hold on her. "Stop it," He repeated, more forcefully this time, gripping her shoulders.

"You lied to me!" She cried, her eyes burning as tears threatened to spill out. "You said you would help me! This was your plan all along!" She shoved against him, hitting his chest angrily.

"Listen to me!" He said through gritted teeth. Grabbing her forearms, he pulled them against his chest, holding them firmly in place. "I didn't lie to you," He pressed on in a hushed voice. "I didn't know Lieutenant Hoffman knew about your true identity ... I didn't know he would be at the back entrance ... I didn't know any of this would happen," He continued, staring earnestly into her eyes. "I want to help you ... Please let me help you."

"You can't help me," She shook her head, a single tear falling down her cheek.

"Yes I can," He said, wiping the tear away, his hand lingering against her cheek. She leaned into his embrace, squeezing her eyes shut so no more tears would fall. "Do you trust me?" He asked, pressing his forehead against hers. She nodded. "Then I need you to listen to me," He said, pulling away to look at her properly. Opening her eyes, she looked up at him. "Don't give them anything, do you understand?" He began. "The moment they think they've gotten what they want out of you, you're of no use anymore." Reaching down, he placed his hand over her stomach. "Not a word of this," He said softly. "They'll only use it against you."

"I'm afraid," She whispered, another tear gliding down her cheek. She was terrified ... Not of dying, no, but of what was going to happen to her before she did ... What was going to happen to both of them before she did. She clutched her stomach, her ribs still aching from Lieutenant Hoffman's boot, her mind shifting to the unborn child she carried inside.

"I know you are," He said, wrapping his arms around her, his chin resting against the top of her head. "I need you to be strong. I'm going to figure out how to get you out of here ... I swear it."