Wednesday, May 31, 1967, 0747 Central European Time, Frankfurt Central Station, Frankfurt, Hesse, Federal Republic of Germany


After obtaining their visas, Sarah, Lieba and Josie returned to Frankfurt am Main on a late afternoon express, the journey passing without incident.

It then became a case of making the arrangements for their journey to Czechoslovakia. Three First Class seats were reserved in the daily service that ran from Frankfurt to Prague, with through tickets brought all the way to Ostrava further in country. They would have to make reservations for the overnight sleeper service from Prague when they got to that city.

Cases were packed, contingencies discussed and those who wished to have cyanide pills were issued them.

After a pleasant and rather meaty dinner, followed by some television, it was time to sleep.

****
They were now back at Frankfurt's central station, waiting for their train to come in. Frankfurt was a terminus station of course, but the portion of Train D262 that they needed had been running overnight from Paris East.

It was just a case of waiting for it to arrive and for the announcement to be made...

Please post your thoughts and feelings at the proper start of this mission...

Josie was quite excited to be going to Czechoslovakia, as she'd never been there before. Of course, she knew there was a great deal of risks and danger involved, but at least the journey had gone well so far.

Sarah Novak was looking up at the departure board, waiting for a platform to be formally assigned for their train. Looking down onto the platforms, she could see an array of coaches of different liveries, mostly in green, blue or red. However, as she wasn't a train expert, she couldn't identify them by sight.

The display board started to update, as a voice announcement came over the public address system.

[Language unknown: "Erwe'anei etenpetina. Thudayred P us eleiwate a fo.hi inat Theforstaort, Hafi aitra Erusce se tio amerutoer isen palatrai il Ilweless k."]

Then the message came in another language.

[Language unknown: "Ilndilwa monichatie. Lipema Ic robut enurlepe k a.tr ce Lehaadat, Osate ro Hopeou ur urive lareauted elic nawheema m Viraremanect pr."]

"Wonder when the train will be here. And what is he saying, do you think?" Josie remarked to Sarah.

"The train is here", Sarah said as she grabbed her suitcase from beside here, "On Platform 9."

She indicated to them to follow her to the platform.

On the far side of the platform the women spot Lawrence North, suitcase in hand. His appearance has changed; gone is the dapper diplomat. Instead, North wears a cloth driver's cap, plaid jacket, canvas pants and work shoes.

He had arrived back in Frankfurt yesterday afternoon, in time for the planning discussion. On his side journey, North had obtained a false passport, traveling under the identity of a German-American trade unionist. This would give him a cover story that would allow him to travel to the camp and potentially make contact with the targets. In the false bottom of his suitcase he carried materials that could be used to forge Czech passes or identity papers. Not high-quality forgeries, but perhaps enough to smuggle the targets to the extraction team.

Again he insisted that the two parties travel apart and should not be seen together. His logic was solid from an operational security perspective, but his aloofness made one suspect he was a misanthrope who cared for no one's company at all.

North ascends to a Second Class coach.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:53, Tue 10 Sept 2019.

North found his way to the dark green SNCF seated coach, part of the train that had come from Paris.

Climbing up the two steps from the platform, he found himself in a corridor compartment coach, with each compartment containing six seats and luggage racks. Reservation labels were placed at each compartment door; Lawrence's cover name was placed at one of the middle compartments. There were two other people booked for that compartment, but they were not due to board until Nuremberg.

North pauses outside the compartment long enough to assess the names of the Nuremberg travellers and commit them to memory.

Before placing his suitcase on the luggage rack he opens it and removes a recent copy of World Marxist Review.

He settles into a window seat, facing the direction of travel, and pages through the magazine with disinterest.

The only information that was available was the surname 'Schmidt'. A very generic German surname of course.

Shortly after, the guard's whistle blew and the train began pulling out of the station. With the electric locomotive far from him, the ride was pretty quiet until they started getting up some speed.

North sets aside the magazine. With the train underway, this might be the safest time to grab some shuteye. He would need to be alert later.

Like all former infantrymen, North was practiced in cat napping on demand. He crosses his legs, lowers the peak of his cloth cap, and burrows into his flannel jacket.

Lawrence was indeed able to get a bit of shuteye. A while later, he started to wake up with the desire to get something to drink.

There was also a uniformed railway employee standing in the compartment.

"[Language unknown: Esev K ore ndeal chhori leswhetra?]" he asked gently.

North grunts and reaches into the breast pocket of his chore coat, producing the ticket.

Josie and the other girls headed to their compartment, and closed the door behind them.

In reply to Lawrence North (msg # 12):

The ticket inspector looked through the ticket, punched a hole in it with his punch and then handed it back.

****
Josie, Sarah and Lieba were in the rear coach, a second-class West German carriage. The glass door gave them some privacy, but not total ones.

Sarah reached into her case and pulled out a deck of playing cards.

"Well, we've got a long train journey ahead of us, so we might as well find something to do. How are you with rummy?"

In reply to Control (msg # 14):

"I'm good. I played it with my father when he wasn't busy." Josie answered.

North addresses the ticket-puncher.

"[Language unknown: Etio pro tire n, n ondias mi vorome-whithu uspr un whi thoallate? Erefo waere N on pe dayderthu andesscom?]"

The man nodded and pointed towards the rear of the train.

[Language unknown: Niure, he io. Pron at ekev retiil st as n ati tholri. Le omussi oulic us.]

North rises, "Danke schoen."

He exits the compartment and makes his way to the rear of the train.

"Let's play, then", Sarah said as she retrieved the cards from her case.

GM: Luck roll for all of you please. Also a Perception Roll
This message was last edited by the player at 11:03, Fri 27 Sept 2019.

OOC:
16:18, Today: Lawrence North rolled 11 using 1d12.  Perception roll.
16:18, Today: Lawrence North rolled 12 using 1d12.  Luck roll.

Today, Josie Grace rolled 3 using 1d12. Luck.

In terms of opulence, the DSG restaurant car lacked that possessed by the pre-war carriages - it was a fairly plain wood panelled affair with blue seatings in a 2+1 configuration, red curtains and a dark grey carpet.

Half a dozen people were already seated, four with plates of hot food in front of them, two with just coffees. It was a bit early for beer or wine.

A waiter was walking around to take orders.

****

North catches the waiters eye, and indicates his chosen seat at the near end of the coach, facing the rest of the car's occupants.

"Kaffee, bitte, und ein Menü."

Lieba looked around a bit and shrugged her shoulders.

"I am not very good at playing cards, but if there is no money involved, I will play."

After twenty minutes of playing, Lieba had won all four games of rummy and was on her way to winning a fifth.

At that point both Lieba and Josie started to hear something. Some form of music.

"Do you hear a violin?" Lieba said.

In reply to Control (msg # 22):

Ooc:Okay.

In reply to Lieba Moszkowicz (msg # 24):

"Yeah, I hear something." Josie replied, thinking that the other girl was a very good player.

The waiter nodded and went to get a cup of coffee.

****

"I do too", Lieba said, "I think it is coming from the compartment next to us. Do you want to take a look?"

''Sure thing. Wonder who it is.'' Josie remarked.

"I'll stay here and look after our stuff", Sarah said as Lieba got up. Lieba stepped outside the compartment and walked the couple of paces over to the next one, followed by Josie.

Sitting alone in the next compartment was a young man, no older than 30, playing a violin to a classical aria. Lieba searched her memory to see what it was.

In reply to Lieba Moszkowicz (msg # 29):

"Hello, sir. You're a very good player." Josie said simply. There! A good start for conversation, should he wish to make it.

The violinist stopped playing and then looked up.

"Why thank you", the man said in a strong Slavic accent, then looked at Lieba, "Are you Lieba Moszkowicz?"

Lieba nodded.

"[Language unknown: Sewe hier lo Elhepe Silamaee. Us nceandble nt astintati ratcomman eve.]"

The man put his violin gently down on the seat and got up to kiss Lieba's hand.

Josie smiled at that "It would seem that he's heard of you." She whispered to the other girl.

Lieba didn't respond to Josie immediately as she let the Polish violinist kiss her hand.

In reply to Lieba Moszkowicz (msg # 33):

Ooc: English, French, and a bit of German. No, she is not.

Tadeuz Sikorski turned to Josie and himself smiled.

"Are you American?" he asked, "I have never met an American before."

He then looked perturbed.

"I am sorry, I did not ask you your name. I am Tadeuz Sikorski. It is honour to meet you, Miss?"

There was a sharp toot of the locomotive horn up ahead of them.

Once Josie had introduced herself, the Polish man continued.

"Have you been to Czechoslovakia before?"

In reply to Tadeuz Sikorski (msg # 35):

"No, I'm English." Josie replied."I'm Josie Graceston. Nice to meet you, too."

The horn gave off a sharp sound, and Josie added, "No, I have not."

"It is a wonderful country. Prague in particular is most excellent. I alas will have to go straight from there to Leipzig for a concert tonight." Tadeusz replied, "The wonderful and brave people in the Czechoslovak Air Force will be giving me a lift."

He looked at her.

"I trust once you see the socialist bloc, any American misconceptions you will have about it will disappear."

In reply to Tadeusz Sikorski (msg # 37):

"I've seen pictures of Prague." Josie added, smiling.

She shook her head. "I should think so."

The conversation continued in a somewhat stilted manner, for about an hour, until it reached something of a conclusion. Lieba returned to her compartment with Josie.

There was a fairly stop at Nuremberg to take on some extra carriages and drop others off that were heading for Passau in Austria.

At around 12.30, the two of them decided to head for the dining car for some lunch; they were about 45 minutes from the border station of Schrinding.

In reply to Control (msg # 39):

Josie had thought the conversation, no matter how stilted it was, quite interesting. When it was time for dinner, she and Lieba went to the dining car to get a meal.

The dining car was only a quarter full at this point. It appeared a lot of people had already gotten off and not many of them would be travelling across the frontier into Czechoslovakia, especially with the visa requirement.

Lieba and Josie sat across one of the tables for two facing each other, the landscape of Bavaria passing them outside the window.

"So, what are your favourite subjects for small talk?" Lieba asked, making small talk.

In reply to Lieba (msg # 41):

Josie shrugged. "History, art, literature."

"So, what do you want to cover then?" Lieba asked, "Literature? Have you read the latest Agatha Christie?"

In reply to Lieba Moszkowicz (msg # 43):

"Oh, yeah. I love her books." Josie said.

"To be honest, I think she's getting a bit past it now. Poirot must be a candidate for the oldest man alive, he was supposed to have retired from the police before the First World War."

Lieba looked at the menu.

"What do you fancy to eat? I fancy the bratwurst myself."
This message had punctuation tweaked by the GM at 22:34, Thu 20 Jan 2022.

Part of this diverse rake of carriages, although only three times a week, was a carriage of the Compagnie internationale des wagons-lits et du tourisme, the international company best known for services like the Orient Express. The communist takeover east of the Iron Curtain had seen its services there nationalised, but a couple of their services crossed over, including a single Paris-Prague sleeper, with eleven compartments each carrying up to two passengers.

Hannes had forked out the $46 dollar supplement to have the compartment with berths 7 and 8 all to himself. It wasn't exactly the biggest room he'd ever stayed in, containing two fold-down bunks that converted to make a sofa during the day, a small seat and a table. The interior was a deeply elegant wooden affair and the floor smartly carpeted. His luggage was placed in a steel rack above him.

There were two toilets each end of the corridor and Hannes shared a washroom with the (empty) compartment next door. The CIWLT attendant was sitting at the end of the corridor to his left, looking at his watch, calculating how long he had until the least pleasant part of the trip, namely an encounter with the Czechoslovak border officials.

The dining car sat in front of Hannes in case he wanted any food or drink; and a French couchette carriage was coupled behind him.

Most of the people in this carriage had detrained at Frankfurt or Nuremberg; apart from the attendant, there was an old couple three compartments down. They'd kept themselves very much to themselves and the man seemed to be rather deaf. But the attendant had been pretty friendly and they'd swapped stories of past trips. Whether Hannes had told the truth was something only he knew.

As the train rattled through the Bavarian countryside, the point of danger was now approaching for everyone.

It wouldn't be long before Hannes reached the border.  If the border guards hadn't been tipped off, he would be surprised if they made a fuss.  Once he was over the border, he could probably use his more or less genuine Polish identity card but for now, he had to remember the name on his ticket and his passport, Paul van der Vecken a middle ranking executive for DAF and his mission to look into the possibility of having the DAF33 made under licence in Czechoslovakia in order to reduce production costs.

He was smuggling two separate products, one which was likely to be found easily after the most perfunctory search was booze, specifically four bottles of Bols Gin and four bottles of Courvoiser Brandy, technically illegal but his experience was that the guards would much rather confiscate them, which was what they were there for.

Inside the lining of his suitcase though were several copies of this month's DC comics, they crossed the Atlantic as ballast to offset the cost of British Exports to the USA and were sold in Woolworths for 6d each.  In the Soviet Bloc they were worth a small fortune, each of which he could turn into ten litres of the original Budweiser from Ceske Budejovice, not St Louis or alternatively, a dozen pairs of finely crafted Polish work boots.  The danger here was never where it was expected.  Star Spangled War Stories would almost certainly pass the censor but this month's Aquaman?  Well, he'd have to make sure they never found the comics.

In reply to Lieba Moszkowicz (msg # 45):

Josie had never tried bratwurst, so was what she went for.

Their food arrived quickly. The wurst was basically a sausage; not the best food she'd eaten, but still pretty good.

The train pulled into Marktredwitz, their penultimate station in Germany. Out the window, they could see a pair of red railcars parked on the opposite platform, a member of DB staff looking down at the wheels.

Behind that stood a freight yard, filled with boxcars, some of which bore the letters ČSD and others DB, of the ones that Josie and Lieba could see.

The attendant asked if they wanted any dessert, but they might have take it away with them to their compartment as the police would be boarding shortly for their customs checks.

****
There was a knock at the door of his compartment. Once Hannes had unlocked the door, he was met with the face of the CIWLT attendant.

"Just to let you know that we're fifteen minutes from the border. If you want any more schnapps or anything like that, you'll need to buy it now. I've got to seal this up and hand off to Customs at the next station."

Hannes smiles, "That's very kind of you.  Thank you a Schnapps would be very welcome.  How much?"  He pays a little over the odds and says, "Thank you, keep the change."  He's not trying to bribe the guy, more like keeping him as friendly as possible.

He sits back and, keeping the Schnapps clearly visible, begins working on the crossword in today's De Volkskrant as he waits for the border guards to arrive.

On the train, Gin for the most part is just as quiet as she had at the briefing, compliantly following along with the rest of the team, apparently not trusting herself to do anything so unthinkably brazen as "ask questions" or "offer opinions."  Instead she occupies herself with studying the German landscape as it rushes by outside the window, keeping herself as small as possible (which is really very small indeed), any view of her face from elsewhere in the car mostly obscured behind shoulder-length wavy medium-brown hair.  Her left hand is a basically permanent resident of her jacket pocket, where it idly tumbles around her little ring of picks and probes, as if trying to draw strength from it the way other women might calm themselves by counting on a rosary.  Altogether this counts as Gin doing her most convincing impression of someone who isn't thoroughly bewildered, mildly terrified, and already in a thousand miles over her head well before the mission has even formally begun; whether she succeeds in passing herself off as someone who has a clue is questionable at best.

In reply to Control (msg # 49):

Josie decided against dessert, as she didn't want to drop it.

They pulled out of Marktredwitz and moved off onto a single-track line.

After passing through another station, they arrived at Schirnding, the final stop in West Germany. Indeed, in the free world.

Standing on the platform, a group of officers in green and blue uniforms waited, along with two German Shepherds on leads.

[Language unknown: Uranilmowh! Stipa p Thestheiwi! Sithi tiei ev ect Pandee Itsiunst n Hiiltr! Itwasaisol annd itheauons omek Trntlancanar houl intdaynot hewer!]

On the other side of the train, a black steam locomotive stood, waiting to take it forward across the border.

If it seems like Gin might end up getting bodily searched, she'll conceal her ring of tools in her seat cushion or even at last resort out the window; otherwise she just complies with the officers politely and quietly.  Meekly, even.  And then waits for the train to arrive at her final destination.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:17, Sat 12 Feb 2022.

The Federal Border Guard were not that bothered today. They stamped passports where appropriate, but no-one in the team got their cases searched.

Then following a sharp whistle from the steam locomotive in front, they pulled away from Schirnding.

After a few minutes, they passed a sign saying 'Landesgrenze' ([Language unknown: Taiess ecttraund]), then a sign with a lion with a red star above his head. After that, two barbed wire fences, pulsing invisibly with electricity and a watchtower indicated that they were now very much in hostile territory...

Hannes continued working on the crossword in De Volkskrant.  It was more difficult for Germans than those in, say De Telegraaf or (such as it was) Algemeen Dagblad, because de Volkskrant had a habit of using obscure English words where perfectly good Dutch words existed.

He may have stuck his tongue out like a small child as he worked on the crossword's cryptic clues.  Either way, he gave every impression of a Dutch businessman without a care in the world.

In reply to Hannes (msg # 56):

The train continued to rattle along for a bit, passing a small station and running through some woods. After a short while, the trees disappeared and they found themselves entering a large railway hub, with sidings filled with rolling stock, including freight wagons and electric engines.

They pulled into the platform where the word 'CHEB' indicated their current location. Standing on the platform were a number of brown and blue uniformed men, some with assault rifles slung over their shoulders, others with holstered pistols.

As they moved towards the carriage doors, it started to rain.

Hannes ignored the border guards for the time being and continued struggling with fourteen across, which given that Hannes knew little about wrestling and nothing about American Football was probably unsolvable.

Gin does her level best to project the image of someone who the border guards have no need to trouble themselves with.  No one to see here, move along, go about your business.  The most conspicuous thing she does is pull a folded paper map from her bag, pondering how much travel still remains before reaching Ostrava.

In reply to Control (msg # 57):

Great Josie thought. Rain. I hate rain.

OOC: Can I have everyone do a Luck Roll please?

Hannes heard a very loud rapping on his compartment door. Somewhere in France, a CIWLT manager was wincing.

[Language unknown: Ndse on! Wiisacho Whishewit!]

14:51, Today: Gin Shaw rolled 8 using 1d10 ((8)).

20:52, Today: Hannes rolled 6 using 1d8.  Luck .

"Huh?"  Hannes looked up from his newspaper and placed it carefully on the work surface in front of him, puts his pen down beside it and walks to the door, opening wide and stepping back, offering his Dutch passport.  [Language unknown: "Ha Weriououl m ble itdi"], he said in Dutch and then apologised, continuing in German, [Language unknown: "M t ughconhat, int meoneito Beweilss.  Iv Latorewileau."]

In reply to Gin Shaw (msg # 62):

The Czechoslovak passport control officer looked at Gin's passport and glanced through the various visa stamps, scrutinising them to see if the CSSR one was genuine. It of course was.

He looked at Gin with the scrutiny of someone who was clearly highly trained at spotting lies.

"[Language unknown: "Ncent arese triv onslesprodin we i as evnot inerutpre?"] he asked.

Well the truth was clearly out of the question, so a theoretically plausible lie would have to do.  "I'm here to meet my fiancée's family," she says, hoping against hope that her terror would play as the normal terror one would expect from a woman traveling alone in a land whose language is completely beyond her, being questioned by hostile government agents.

In reply to Hannes (msg # 63):

The officer took his passport, opened it, and gave it a cursory examination before pulling out a stamp from a case worn in front of his chest.

[Language unknown: "Ca mo antos nd ionpre'lartra i untin ol wer olstul?"]

****

Gin's particular officer looked confused.

[Language unknown: "Anwer outic alwace u st ithwerhat re intndeess esou? Hiev Ta chich pa?"]

OOC: Second luck roll please...

"Oh, no, Jakob has lived in England for years now, but his brother still lives in Ostrava," Gin tries to explain.  "He's traveled ahead, I'm meeting him at the station."

17:13, Today: Gin Shaw rolled 10 using 1d10.  Luck.

Oh jeez.  :D

Hannes considered before answering in measured tones, "[Language unknown: U ntpack er t reusse el erahatthe tinun k ec thuek u anyca hisorenot paer T omhick thiratenc i latwheoustho ofplos t wheersrescom eeeial u ofri ar utcasa miil, I ameectera loeve a tret com terastnotyinvir e ieha we Whivha Witastich it Iotioá At re osna Poatri Loekek ee Chofro.]"

In reply to Gin Shaw (msg # 67):

"Can you come with me please?" the border guard asked, although any politeness appeared to have disappeared from his voice. "We need to check your story, as it seems to be rather... unusual."

Given that Gin's options would seem to consist of either obeying the guard's orders, or trying to find a way to jump off of a speeding train, she'll opt for the former.  "Visiting my fiancée's family is unusual?"

In reply to Gin Shaw (msg # 70):

"Having a fiancé in Ostrava if you're British is unusual," the guard said, as he led the way to the vestibule and onto the platform.

As they walked along, others on the platform were looking at them... for a few seconds before realising this wouldn't be a good idea.

****
The guard dealing with Hannes nodded.

[Language unknown: Safor lani o hasha antencant pr er rocest, of ithwasest inethisan p ofweck t pa oftritee. Pro, nanoha wilwh io chio ceint ivver ecme ter areto actewine dipeetou ast ivema on a chus un. il Oulnceill p tha.]

Which Hannes would have to spend in country - he couldn't convert it back from koruna and he wasn't - legally - allowed to take it out of the country. Not that it would be much use in the West.

The guard stamped his passport.

[Language unknown: Itchdi beus miil on meosna hatho leserastr ecndtiniwe nt vor ouerfi rewh ouwi nouscker.]

Hannes smiled and thanked the guards before ensuring his bags were as he intended and that there were 164 Deutsche Marks available for the Currency exchange (roughly $US38.50).

"Okay, no..."

Is he getting my lie wrong on purpose?  They know -already-, they know I'm a spy and I'm lying, a lying spy who lies and I'm about to get shot and then hanged and then shot again.

"... no, my fiancé moved to London twelve years ago.  His brother still lives here," Gin tries to explain, clinging to the last desperate hope that getting the lie (the very plausible lie, she thought) straightened out would somehow work everything out, like waving a magic wand.

In reply to Hannes (msg # 72):

The Customs officer came along and after a brief glance in Hannes bag, cleared him to continue, stamping his customs declaration form.

A young woman came third and finally, carrying a large satchel. She took 160 Marks off Hannes and after rummaging around in her bag, she pulled out three notes that totalled 160 Czechoslovak koruna. She handed these to him and left him, Hannes knowing that he had of course been ripped off, as the rate was nowhere near the real exchange rate.

And now he had to spend it. Fortunately, as the officials came off the train, the CIWL conductor was walking along.

[Language unknown: M eraof k te of nickse ndtral. Si ar pehote, vervorrea theng a orebutsan rea ainundsanmanhis icset... almoli ion son o ticth? Oneresest iouoveone i montholi. Stet A i ce un iltha chng.]

In reply to Gin Shaw (msg # 73):

OOC: Another luck roll, please.

Hannes grinned widely, knowing damn well he's been ripped off but not caring overmuch because he's also exchanged more than he's likely to need.  He's surprised and delighted that they've not even taken the last four Deutschmarks.

[Language unknown: "P aremanthe u &#tedndeé Lat&#maentredresort weente somsanure al anare lanaha ithughoun tiect, leou ie lote ouleauweroul o ove p sihepe?"]

In reply to Hannes (msg # 76):

[Language unknown: "Wil o et, wasei Era si bleeveati arlisswa nc Ouneareve teadte osnire taio derevelaring. Thleof Andiha adelne. Anthe iess mi terca somoutsti hisenc."]

The conductor smiled.

[Language unknown: Ameersand ousoerher elrat uners allany'eauare e leen ntioveamered ioma. Thoortant icour ou nc, A wilwiliouman t itnaitma wh siat osusng nafo elith. Adof Leslarith wereen'comkor alad thwaososil he whni ss fo ofasna.]

Down the corridor, Hannes could hear some loud yelling in what sounded like German...

OOC: Listen check, please.

Hannes listens as carefully as he can.
21:57, Today: Hannes rolled 5 using 1d6.  Listening check (Very Strong Powers of Perception).

It sounded very much a passenger in the neighbouring carriage had been caught with some contraband - namely pornographic material - and had delivered some insults to the Czechoslovak customs officer in response to its detection. Not a good idea in any country, but especially here...

Hannes moves to a position from which he can see a little of what's going on but mostly he just listens and pretends to do the crossword in De Volkskrant.

11:41, Today: Gin Shaw rolled 10 using 1d10 ((10)).

Hannes frowns as he remembers what the guy who sold him the beer had said.  There was nobody in the next compartment so what, he wonders is going on.  It could be an attempt to intimidate him but he doesn't have any pornographic material.  This still sounds very much like a fake argument though.

In reply to Gin Shaw (msg # 81):

"I do not believe you for a second. I think that you are a foreign agent trying your luck in this country," the guard said. He led her to a door and knocked on it three times.

[Language unknown: "K ekart a moulhipe heroulent icaortmen fo!"] he barked out.

"Now, you have two options. We make a lot of phone calls... or you get on the next train out of the country. Or there is a third option..."
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:44, Wed 04 May 2022.

Thursday, June 1, 0400 Central European Time, Ostrava, Czechslovakia

It took a rather substantial bribe, but Gin was allowed to carry on with her journey. They reboarded the train and continued to Prague without further incident. Then it was a case of buying another ticket on the overnight train to Ostrava.

R48 Chopin may have been named after a famous composer, but it was rarely music to anyone's ears to have to get off a train at 4am in the morning. Especially in an unfamiliar city in an unfamiliar country... at a station that was clearly undergoing major building works.

The very early glimmers of dawn were starting to emerge as they got out, with a ČSD porter ready to assist them with their luggage. He was skinny, barely out of school and had a cigarette tucked behind his ear.

[Language unknown: "Fiil Nc ioine deren san ard rutblewhe, onswit-andkor?"]

, said Hannes.    If he couldn't make himself understood, he tried Russian and even a halting attempt at English.

The young man responded in the very little German that he seemingly knew. He offered a hand in the direction of Hannes' baggage as the train started to pull out of the station, the clicketey-clack of the jointed rails clearly audible.

[Language unknown: "Noenwh? U la ich antention?"]

OOC: Who else from this group is still here?

Hannes thinks about that and says,

In reply to Control (msg # 86):

Ooc: Me, apparently.

In reply to Josie Graceston (msg # 88):

OOC: Excellent.

In reply to Hannes (msg # 87):

"Wait right here, comrade," the employee said and walked away. Within a minute, he was black with a four-wheeled luggage trolley. Hannes could see the paint was peeling off the handle and there were traces of rust on the frame.

"How was your trip?" he asked them.

"Dobro", says Hannes, loading his gear onto the trolley and offering the usual tip. 

He trundles the trolley outside and makes his way to the nearest hotel, whether that is by taxi or simply by taking it next door.

In reply to Hannes (msg # 91):

OOC: Do people want to skip until the morning?

[OOC Sure why not?]

In reply to Hannes (msg # 93):

OOC: I've moved you over to the Ostrava thread

Josie and Lieba passed the border guards with very little fuss. So the question was, What did they do now?
This message was last edited by the player at 21:01, Sat 16 July 2022.

In reply to Josie Graceston (msg # 95):

The rest of their journey passed without real incident.

OOC: Please move over to the Ostrava Palava thread.