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On August 14, 1940, Henri Geffroy celebrated his twenty-fourth birthday: if celebration can indeed be defined as sulking in a cold, damp jail cell in Belmarsh, England. He had a fine present, though: he was the only inmate in his new cell. The guard rarely checked on him, though there wasn't much he could do to escape, anyway: so he was surprised when he was ordered to stand to attention to receive a visitor - in army uniform, at that.

"Good morning, mate."

Henri offered a cursory glance.

"So, you're Henri?"

A nod.

"Captain Henry Spears, British Army." A gloved hand extended itself through the iron bars. "Funny, we have the same name."

The visitor's presence had been acknowledged. Henri did not even bother with eye contact anymore.

The hand retracted. There was a furtive look round the cell. "What are you in here for, again?"

"What do you want?"

"Just some answers to some questions." Spears forced a grin.

Henri rolled his eyes. "I am a communist."

"Why?"

"It only seems fair."

"Because?"

"The Americans are greedy imperialist capitalist pigs, and the Soviets are a change of pace." Henri offered a condescending grin. Even in prison, there was a strange freedom. Henri could say whatever he wanted: he was here already, after all.

Spears moved on. "Who are your parents?"

"My father was English, my mother Swiss. My father died of drink, leaving my mother to raise me alone in London."

"Any possible reason why your pa went like that?"

"He survived the Great War."

"I see." Spears was reading a file as he talked. "Did you have a good mother?"
"She managed. Wanted me to have a good education. She is why I can speak French and some German."

"She still around?"

"Pneumonia got to her two years ago."

Spears lit a pipe. "Your education, what was it in?"

"Chemical engineering."

"I see. Mr. Geffroy, are you aware of the nature of the chemical reaction between chlorine and any metal?"

"It is explosive."

"What about hydrogen and chlorine?"

"Likewise." Henri furrowed his brows. "What are you getting at here?"

Spears leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "Mr. Geffroy, do you hate National Socialism?"

Henri did not answer, letting the implications of his possible responses set in.

"I resent whoever has put me in this place."

"Mr. Geffroy, how would you like to be a part of the war to liberate Europe?"

Henri raised a brow. "You want me to help you fight against the Germans?"

"For a hefty salary, of course," Spears replied, anticipating Henri's next question. "We will get you out of here, first. Then we will train you, and put you in a team with other people just like you, talented young men and women hungry for liberty and justice. You will penetrate deep into enemy lines, and you will do whatever we will tell you to do - for a nice reward, and the freedom of Europe as well, if you're also interested in that."

Henri mulled his options. Captain Spears was taking advantage of him, using his own circumstances to his advantage. He would just be another pawn to the Allies, and he would probably die before Hitler did. 

But what other choice did he have?

"This team, does it have a name?"

"It's still new, but for now we call it Special Operations Executive. The SOE."
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