The moon rises, casting soft shadows over the field. All is quiet. Suddenly off in the distance the sound of a small airplane engine is heard. It comes in low, skirting the treetops, cuts its engine and lands on the improvised runway. Out of the trees shadows flit across the field, racing towards plane.
The doors of the plane are opened as the first of the shadows approach; soft words are exchanged, and some of the tension leaks out of the air. A sound of a match being struck, and its sudden flare reveals a hard lean face, topped with a beret. More shadows approach the plane and begin to unload wooden crates.
The moon's rays illuminate some more of the faces, one is a breathtakingly beautiful woman; she's cradling a semi-automatic rifle in her arms as she keeps a wary watch on the surroundings. Suddenly she hears something: there, off in the distance a vehicle engine. "Hurry" she shouts, in a charming/sensual French accent.
She turns back to her post, slipping the safety off on her weapon, and you know that he is quite prepared to die tonight: to die for France and freedom. Oh how your heart, and your loins, aches for her and her passion. The sound of the truck motor gets louder and you know that it’s a Nazi troop transport full of identical looking grey suited soldiers intent on killing your beauty.
There: the plane is empty and it's preparing for take off, why doesn't she leave? Ah they will make sure that the pilot can escape even if they risk their own lives. The plane takes off and clears the tree line and the object of your desire and her companions make back into the woods just as the first headlights from the troop trucks hit the field.
The German's pour out of their trucks and yell excitedly in guttural Hollywood bad guy language that lets us know that they found the plane's tire tracks. Mysteriously they look up in the sky but don't think to look in the forest where the woman and her friends are standing just behind the first row of trees. After some more excited talk, they climb back into their trucks and drive away.
Back amongst the trees, the man in the beret comes up to the woman, and you hate him for what is about to happen, he scoops her in his arms, and looks her straight in the eye:
"Don't take risks like that again" he says in some strange sounding accent.
"I would risk everything for France" is her throaty reply
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