Chapter Text
28th October, 1940
New York, USA
Sara let out a deep sigh as she adjusted the blazer she was wearing. It felt uncomfortable, compared to the khaki jumpsuit she would usually wear. She frowned when she realized she might never get to wear her jumpsuit again, based on the conversation she’d just had with the Lieutenant General.
Sara knew from her experience that great men weren’t usually good guys, and she realized that her lieutenant wasn’t an exception soon enough when he began spewing some speech about women’s place in the war effort. Not like Sara was listening.
Flying to London. It was ironic. She was a pilot, flown over enemy lands a million times. The dark, cloudless skies her camouflage. Italy, Germany, and recently, beautiful France. But she’d never been to London.
Well, that was going to change the next morning.
30th October, 1940
London, England
Rain. Sara was already hating it here. Rain was the last thing she needed after a 24 hour flight. Her maroon form fitting dress was sticking to her, as she squinted her eyes, looking for a cab, a newspaper folded up and held over her head.
She flagged a black cab down. “Good morning miss! Where to?”
“34 Brushfield Street please.”
She was to report to the SOE at 10. Which means she had around an hour to clean up, in an apartment she knew nothing about. In a city she knew nothing about. With a job she knew nothing about.
Her stomach twisted with familiar tendrils of uncertainty. She was still willing to do this. Even though this job would take her further away from the field, it seemed like it would be more meaningful to the war effort than just flying supplies from one point to another, or dropping excited men in parachutes over enemy lands. She was still going to miss flying planes though.
The apartment was what she expected. Tiny. Utilitarian. With a little bit of work, it could even be cozy. She prayed the water was running, and luckily it was. Almost as soon as she was ready to head out, there was a knock on the door. She opened the door, raising her eyebrows.
Standing in front of her was a woman with bright eyes and dark hair, who looked entirely too cheerful for such a bleak day. “Hullo. I’m Gideon. I work at the SOE. I assume you’re Sara Lance?”
She nodded slightly. “I am.”
“Well then.” Gideon shot a discrete glance at her leather watch. “We’re already running a little late. Ready to head out?”
Sara gave her a small smile. “Sure.”
Gideon seemed different from what Sara thought a british woman would behave. She could deal with cheerful people.
“The SOE is the Special Operations Executive. Created earlier this year to carry out secretive operations in enemy occupied Europe, though our main focus right now is France.”
Gideon’s smooth british voice echoed down the hallway as their heels clacked rhythmically on the ground. Sara looked around, taking in her surroundings. It seemed like they were in a Victorian Era mansion, that looked like it was slowly being turned into a government office.
“The british officers decided early on that women might be a valuable asset for espionage, because rarely anyone suspects them. I work in the F-Section, dealing with recruitment and deployment.”
Sara had had enough of being kept in the dark.
“What do you mean by secretive operations? What exactly am I supposed to be doing here?”
Before she could ask anymore questions, a woman wearing a navy blue blazer strode up to her. She had a rigid posture, and hair tied back into a near perfect bun, which was a very peculiar hair-do indeed. The woman extended her hand out, the gesture not matched by the expression on the woman’s face, which was arranged in a passive scowl. “You must be Ms. Lance. I’m Agent Sharpe, L-Section, SOE.”
Sara didn’t really listen to much of what Agent Sharpe said. “You’re American?” She said with a growing smile on her face, taking the agent’s outstretched hand in hers and shaking vigorously.
Ms. Sharpe looked taken aback, the scowl melting, replaced by something looking like curiosity. “I-yes. Yes I’m American.”
Gideon stepped into their awkward conversation. “Agent Sharpe is our first recruit in the L-Sector. She’s your partner and will show you around.” She glanced at her watch again. “Right, well, I should get going.”
Sara meanwhile, was busy scanning the agent. She was certainly attractive, even with the expression on her face.
“Right this way, agent Lance.”
“So. I’m an agent now huh?”
“Well, you work here now, and like every other recruit, you’re an agent.”
Sara tried to read the Agent’s voice, but it felt like she veiled whatever she said with an air of indifference.
“You can call me Sara. Since we’re partners now. You are?” She looked expectantly at the agent, who just kept walking, eyes ahead. “Ava, Ava Sharpe.”
“It’s a pretty name, Ava”
Ava looked at her, an almost inperceptible smile on her face. “Thank you, Agent Lance.”
“You know you can call me Sara right?”
She seemed to completely ignore Sara as she pushed open a door on their right.
“Here we are, welcome to the L-Sector.”
Sara looked around. It was a pretty simple room, a table in the corner, with a number of notepads and binders arranged neatly on the side. There seemed to be some sort of code breaking device on another desk, which was by a decent sized window, and a full sized radio reciever was attached to the wall in front of the desk. A few chairs were scattered around.
Ava definitely kept it in good condition. “Where are the others?”
Ava sighed, leaning on one of the desks. “It’s just us Agent Lance.”
Sara furowed her brows. What were just the two of them supposed to be doing?
“What?”
Ava walked up to her again, with those bold, long strides. She stood right in front of Sara. “Oh agent Lance. You don’t know what the L-Sector means do you?”
Sara was suddenly at a loss for words. The agent was entirely too close. “I wasn’t told much before I arrived.”
Ava took a step back. “The reason we don’t have a bigger room is because we won’t be spending much time here. In a month’s time, the both of us will be parachuted into Paris. We’re gonna liberate France, Sara.”
She said it like they were going to go for a school trip to the museum.
“WHAT?”