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First impressions were always important. So far, her first impression of Chloe wasn't good. She was really living up to the name her parents gave her, unfortunately. The Russian was professional at least. Plus he could carry the pallet.

A whistle broke the silence of night. While unfamiliar to Lilliane, she was instantly reminded of the tales brought home after the great war. Without much of a second guess, she warned the others with her harsh tone. [color=E1DAD0]"Mortar,"[/color] she simply said. Not that they really had to listen. As long as the Russian man holding the pallet—more importantly the pallet—was fine, then there would be no issue. The health of the others was second. Acceptable casualties, more or less.

Lilliane quickly dove towards a grassy knoll. She'd be fine, unless the mortar directly struck her. It didn't and instead landed behind them.

[color=E1DAD0]"That one's new,"[/color] she uttered to herself. Really, it was unlike the Germans to use such a thing. Usually, they would just attack and beat the resistance's great war surplus and hunting equipment with their modern MP40s, 98ks, and vehicles. For them to use a mortar on the middle of a farm, that either meant things went wrong or things went [i]really[/i] wrong.

[color=E1DAD0]"Don't scatter too far,"[/color] she yelled just loud enough for all of the agents to hear. If the Nazis really were using mortars, they were probably using them as a form of crowd control. If they scattered far, then they could easily be picked off by whatever horde of gunmen came after them. Divide and conquer, or something like that.