Offenbach, Hesse, Federal Republic of Germany

At three in the afternoon, Martin McKinley, OSS veteran and head of the CS-14 unit of CIA Clandestine Services, looked around at the dining room of the small hotel that served as their West German safe house at whichever members of this ad hoc team had managed to make it to the meeting. A large black briefcase stood on a table in front of him,  the lid open to hide its contents from the others present.

Next to it was a slide projector pointed at a screen behind him. A cassette of slides was already inserted, but the projector was not at this point switched on.

He looked around the assembled people and nodded.

"Good afternoon everyone. Thank you for coming at this short notice. I have been authorised to give you each the sum of $1,000 to cover your expenses in coming here and as an initial deposit.

Before we commence, I need to make sure that you are aware of the risks of the mission that you are about to undertake, based on the information that you have been given. You will be going behind the Iron Curtain to rescue two agents who are almost certainly being hunted by the KGB and their allied secret police forces. If this operation goes wrong, there is a real risk that you will be killed or end up in Pankrác prison, where we may not be able to get you out.

If you are unwilling to take the risks here, you may leave now with your initial payment. If you stay however, a further $4,000 will be coming your way upon your return."

He looked around to see if anyone decided to leave.

Lieba looked a bit Bohemian as she entered. The type of slightly artsy that let people know she was likely in that scene without really turning any heads as she took her seat, listening and watching.

She didn't leave, there was no need. It wasn't her first mission across the curtain, she was certain it wouldn't be her last. And this one involved rescue, that would be different.

When given the chance, Lieba ordered a glass of Spätburgunder and some camembert, rarely one to turn down a snack even if she'd already had one.

So this is Hesse, Josie thought. She lifted her suitcase from the ground and  headed off to the boarding house where she had been asked to stay.

Her house had been called by Martin McKinley a few weeks ago, and he'd informed the family that he could use her for one of his missions. The family had agreed and within a few short days, she was on a plane to Germany, and then took a train to Hesse, where he was holding the meeting. The boarding house where she was to stay was plain, made of limestone with two stories. She entered, got the key to her room, and quickly changed her clothes, then headed outside and walked in the direction of the building.

She made her way inside, to the meeting room and sat down at the table, taking her time to order, and chose a plate of salad. Something light, she told herself. I don't want to go to the restroom in the middle of the meeting.

Once it was clear nobody was leaving and after taking a sip of her wine, Lieba considered. "I know we have a translator, and my skillset is generally for when things go wrong and I know that Sarah will be our translator if nobody else can. But who else will we have on this team? It will definitely effect the method we will be taking." She did wonder about the young woman who had joined them, where her skills lay.

In reply to Lieba Moszkowicz (msg # 4):

Josie practically dug into her salad, which was nice and green, and she could feel the crunch of the lettuce as she bit into it. She wondered why she had been sent for.

The only thing she was good at, well, which she knew of, was law.