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Eames could still remember where he was on that day in June of 1940 when the armistice was signed in Compiegne. He could still remember the grim faces of all the Frenchmen in the bar, their slumped shoulders and defeated frowns. It was as if Hitler himself had walked into the joint and told them all to say their last good-bye’s before he ordered the Gestapo to fill them all full of bullets.
He should have gotten out of France while he’d had the chance.
As of June 2015, this fic is officially discontinued.