Act 2 – The Masquerade
Off the coast of East Lebatuck
A breeze strikes across the sea, while waves softly smash upon the shores. Under the dim moonlight the sea appears quite. Lights in the far distance shine the way to the closest ports, may it be mainland Lebatuck or the Uranaids. Occasionally, a ship or two cross, appear from or disappear into the horizon, swimming as quietly as the wind blows. A day like every other.
What isn’t that easily seen from shore, however, are two thin poles sticking out of the low waves, multiple dozen meters offshore. Two slowly rotating poles attached to a submarine. While on the surface the sea is as unchanged as ever, the underwater world hides this light U-boat of the Wubdichian Navy. As known from these underwater vehicles, a tension has filled the vessel. Not from the water around it, but the men inside. The crew of 20 with a low breaths and strong heartbeats lock eyes between each other and their Captain Lieutenant by the second.
Whispering to himself, Kaleun Tichyy thinks out loud: “Where are they, damnit…?” while slowly turning the periscope. “0231 was supposed to be the time. Wiebold, what’s the time?” A man quickly, yet quietly peeks his head into the other part of the vessel, turns back to the commando central, and speaks:
“0251, Kaleun.”
Tichyy twitches his mustache. He doesn’t like those that come to late. In this job, it’s detrimental to be on time. Thus it’s not understandable for him how their contact, out of all people, is not on time. He turns the periscope another time about 90 degrees, before letting go of it briefly. Rubbing his eyes, he declares: “If we have to wait another 10 minutes, we are leaving. Kanzaki, Röhrich, warm the E-engines up. Radio operators calibrate your machinery for half-power. We can’t wait that much lo--”
“Kaleun!” Heinrich, second in charge on the second periscope, speaks up in a whispered shout “I can see a campfire. 273 degrees. Lights white!”
“That’s the contact.” Tichyy exclaims, putting his eyes back on the periscope. “Oden and Starshyy to the torpedo tubes, now!”
Five men instantly rushed to the torpedo tubes, two wearing diving suits. Within single minutes, they climb into two empty torpedo tubes with the help of the two torpedo operators. Quickly after filling the tubes with water, and opening the shutters outside, the divers swim to shore, with the help of small propeller engines. Even with the contact now in place, they can’t waste any more time.
***
???, East Lebatuck
As pretty as the white flame was, as quick it is gone again. Now only the normal orange flame is sizzling and sparking around. Warming the air from the sea breeze. It’s a comparably cold night. Some very weak and late arctic winds blowing down from further North. It’s not icy, but a breeze can still cause a shudder. A fire for a lonely figure was thus needed, apart from the purpose of posing as a signal.
Said coated figure was just putting away the plastic tube they stored the magnesium sulfate in, disguised as some medicine. Codename: Eule (Owl). That’s how she’s called by Zimmer 39. Here in East Lebatuck, she’s going by multiple names, all dependent on where she is and what job she is infiltrating working in. But right now, she’s just Eule. The anonymous woman standing on the shore of the country she was sent to, waiting for her contacts. She knows she’s late. But it would have raised suspicions if she left the date she set up yesterday evening for her disguise early. And even if she’s too late, she would take the other time on the same position.
She sighs, in sync with the sea breeze rushing through her hair. One of her hands is already tightly grabbing the folder her contacts are supposed to take. Regret washes over her face. The lengths she had to go through to get these came with a price. A regretful price. But after all, it’s her job. Things have to be done, with no questions asked. Even if it costs lives.
Water splashes, as two figures rise from the shallow water. Eule raises her head, sticks her chest out, and straightens her back as a whole. As soon as the divers get out of the water, they present a salute. Rolling her eyes over the formality, Eule has a last look around to check for any onlookers. Slowly she pulls her folder out of her trenchcoat. The shorter of the two divers quickly snatches the folder, before getting back in line with the other diver. Both sides remain silent, while the shorter diver puts the folder into a watertight bag, which he hangs over his shoulder. With a last salute, the divers make it back into the water. In only seconds, they fully disappear into the water again. Close to no sound. Only the wind and the splashing waves.
And Eule, whispering to herself: “Velikaja Rodina. Chooju. Um die Ketten zu brechen.”
***
Himmelsfern, ???, Wubdich
Every time a U-Boat leaves or enters the ‘hangar’ the rumbling of the pumps and doors ripples through the entire section of the facility. As such, Section Süd rumbles as chamber five drains itself. Wasserfall-class U-Boat “Ruhe” has finally returned from her mission. As soon as the bridge lays dry, and the heavy doors out of the chamber open, one of the sailours with a watertight bag under his arm rushes out, and to the command center.
Even before the sailour reaches the command center, papers and machinery is figuratively thrown around, in anticipation of the folder. The door is flung open as quick as it’s closed again. Shivering, the sailour unzips the bag, slams the folder on the desk, and takes a deep breath. Following a hiss from the main door, he says: “Report from Eule, received at 0302. Initial time, 0231. Rendezvous at 0251.”
Multiple machines start ticking, personnel begins typing, and papers flick, as the folder is being taken apart. The sailour himself joins the personnel on the machinery, despite being out of breath. Highly concentrated, people look back and forth between the papers and their machines, typing entire pages in minutes.
And thus, minutes pass.
An hour passes. And then another.
Just another half hour later, the personnel gathers around the central desk, bringing together all the papers they have typed. Right on time, the heavy main door hisses, before slowly opening. All personnel straightens itself, saluting as none else than Sasha Feierabend enters. Acknowledging the personnel, but not engaging in any other formalities, Feierabend walks right at the papers. Quickly reading over them, Feierabend grows a very slight smirk. A third hiss comes from the main door, signaling its fully closed again.
“Well done, ladies and gentlemen.” Feierabend says, pleased with the papers, “Eule is safe. Operation continuing smoothly. I want the comms to inform Eule about the next mission objective. Encrypt it to 0959. The girl’s sleep schedule will thank you. Meanwhile, the surface crew shall deploy two task forces in Belaya Avia in Malrora. In case of a distress signal, refer to protocol NEWT-3. Thank you.” Hiss four, and Feierabend walks out the door again, while the personnel resumes their usual work. Only the sailour leaves, just like Feierabend, to return to his ship.
Feierabend chuckles to their assistants as they leave the section. “And they doubted this method would be of any use in this day and age. I think, some in the council still don’t understand that nobody said we wouldn’t equip the U-boats with those things. Who’s the hideous one now, hm? Simple en- and decryption.” They glimpse out of the reinforced windows at another hangar being welded together from the outside by men in heavy diving suits. “Oh yeah,” Feierabend adds to that view, “Tell Sovetzkaya that she should order the hangars to be quieter. I’m sure she can be intimidating enough to get that order through.
The pieces are falling according to plan.
Haven and Sanctuary soldiers.
