Sleeping with the Enemy
Hans strode through the streets, empty even in mid-afternoon, contemplating the beautiful city that was his for the taking. Even in July, when the air was so humid that his uniform stuck to his skin and the sun beat down on his head, Paris was like nothing he had ever seen. It was muted now, desolate, under the heel of the invaders, but the decadence that it was so famous for still shone through. He was walking through the Quartier Latin, the muddy Sienne to his left, on his way to a certain...