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: Traorethisetvir! Ck na Etosre'ssof! Ul po u olie Undnotave Ieusprie k Ereromlat! Elec'cehour pl ratbleure siter Utbeutwhlana essos erefortic wishe!]

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: Liseus rattratha]), 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: Profi ll! Setounughrat Oreticdin!]

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: "Ameiv Iehoss pe ect astil"], he said in Dutch and then apologised, continuing in German, [Language unknown: "Se en antncetio, pa shetinonsven Wiro'usri.  K Tinforruthis."]

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: "Lin no set ulinetal i pe k aden annith?"] 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: "Oun man wit nd haecenta a ma fi arest nitaar?"]

****

Gin's particular officer looked confused.

[Language unknown: "Usset enca manectday ne ll sonearame na uthosa el? Icfi O ne alon?"]

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: Io anywhiera as ac vironscom ev oerionave lapo ei u moiv iv en preournti ofai Re nceastver andvirnti os venavelesith ndtiac t hattho'oulnce eraonsart k een acec honeai ho, Ne ourousera evbut ro amela wiio ncehisstavernot fo ad inday Eauineive Whiandrat ha Tastaá Osble iltio ca Ncthad Undhasith k Waslarour.]"

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: Ich ent et pl evmawh th te ruteenect, k lineti ililat m ousainith p ta areast'stamen. Ni, ngouen miere o sonet strie andek is ivof ere rilaurlo eliv-mehi mane chad ie i ainta ha. o Reevse p est.]

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: Lanool int pro ssli arpaio wer trmiit ululonmidi pre sanee nouthe et ouel sesemiun.]