Twelve Years Later

She squinted, holding her fan to stop the sunlight hitting her as the boat worked its way down the little stream. Her other hand kept a tight grip on a cane she tucked under the boards of the boat in front of her. Two men sitting on the side with their rods in the water called out to the man guiding the boat.

"There's rough water ahead."

"It's always rough here this time of year. That's why I brought my large oar." The men nodded, waving the boat onward, and the woman at the front grumbled.

"That's what happens when you leave the code-making to someone as useless as Mrs. Crawley."

"Be kind mother. She was nice enough to get us this meeting."

"She'd be nice enough to do anything when she's low on funds and support." The woman in the boat huffed again, "Dragging ourselves all the way to the south of France for a meeting like this one. It's preposterous."

"It's necessary if we want to unite our forces."

"Robert, uniting our forces this early is neither wise nor practical and we need to be practical." The woman adjusted her fan, "I always try to keep out of the sun and now, here I am, practically bathing in it to meet with a woman I don't even like."

"Then why agree to meet with her?"

"Because if I didn't meet with all the people I don't like then I'd have nothing to do with all my time."

Robert sighed, guiding the boat to a side dock. One of the men there grabbed the ropes and tied it in place, helping the older woman out first before aiding Robert. Both held out their arms, standing in place as the men patted them down, and Robert sighed when one of the men removed a pistol from his mother's waistband.

"Mother."

"A woman should never go undefended into battle." She held her chin up, "We were called to this meeting and I don't want to walk in like a fool and believe that there's no possible way she'd turn on us."

"I doubt very much that Isobel Crawley lured us from London to the South of France to assassinate us. She could've sent someone to kill us there." Robert put a hand on his mother's arm, guiding her forward at the insistence of the two men with them.

They walked the docks to one of the houses and took another frisking at the door. Robert waited for his mother to precede him inside the house and they took standing position waiting in the hallway. The men who led them into the house vanished for a few moments, leaving the two alone in the corridor.

"All this is for effect." The old woman waved her cane at their location. "She wants us to think she's got the power here."

"We responded to their request and now we're here as their guests. There's nothing insidious about it all."

"Ha!" The woman barked, "Nothing insidious."

"You always suspected everyone of everything Cousin Violet." Another woman entered the corridor, gesturing with her whole arm to a room off the corridor. "We might as well do this with tea."

"The much better to poison us with Cousin Isobel?" Violet leaned on her cane, holding herself back from the others.

"If I wanted you dead I would've had my men shoot you in the canal. Tea?"

Robert tried to restrain his chuckle at the way his mother barely kept her contempt down with a strain on her jaw. They followed Isobel into a small parlor and Robert waited for the two women to sit before taking a wingback chair of his own. Isobel managed the tea but Violet refused to drink it while Robert gratefully accepted it.

"I invited you here to discuss a joint venture." Isobel sipped her tea, "We're losing a battle against the Nazis and we need to strike a blow that will cripple them."

"How do you plan to do that? Take out their kneecaps one by one with your pittance of resources?"

"By recruiting a few people for an assassination."

Robert stopped with the cup close to his lips before lowering it. "Assassination? I thought there wasn't any of that going on with your group, that they were all clandestine information gathering efforts."

"They were until we discovered that the Fuhrer is forming a group of secrete police and investigators with the power to take anyone they want off the streets at any time."

"Our people say they're called the SS or something like that." Robert set his cup on the table next to his chair. "They're apparently a step up from the Brownshirts Herr Hitler used in the twenties."

"These men wear black and they're much worse." Isobel slipped herself over the seat, her fingers interlacing, separating, and interlacing again. "We need to eliminate the leader before they get too powerful."

"And what happens if we take out the leader?" Violet let her fingers grip the head of her cane while her lips pursed severely. "I don't know if this snake simply dies one a head is removed since it's more like a hydra and they tend to grow another in place."

"I thought it was two or three in their place." Robert tried to add before shrinking back at the scowl from his mother.

"The point is, we can't guarantee the success of our enterprise so why should we give any of our people to your cause?" Isobel gave a little smile and Violet gaped at her, "Why are you smiling?"

"Because I didn't ask you here to get your people to do this. I asked you here to convince other people to do this."

"What?" Robert frowned, "I don't understand. Who will we get that's not already working for us?"

"I've got three people in mind. One of them is a resistance fighter from outside of Hamburg but she's currently having a bit of a problem dealing with her superior officers."

"What kind of problem?"

Isobel shifted her jaw, "They saw she shot her commanding officer by mistake."

"They 'say'?" Violet chuckled, "Do we know what really happened?"

"They won't give me anymore details." Isobel lowered her voice, "It's all very personal to them so they won't say anything if there's more to the story than that."

"Who else?" Robert went for another nip of tea but shook off the impulse.

"We've got the other two from a prison in Vienna."

"We're really scraping the bottom of the barrel here aren't we?" Violet snorted, "That's why we can afford to lose them, they're expendable."

"Everyone's expendable in our business." Robert muttered, rubbing over his hands. "Who are they after?"

"We've got two people for them."

"I thought you said there was only the one." Violet tried to hold back her laughter. "Do the numbers keep adding like the hydra heads we mentioned?"

"In this case there's the SS officer and then the man working with him."

"Who?"

Isobel took out a file and handed it to Robert. "Inside you'll find the pictures of the three we want to recruit and then the two targets."

"Why give it to me?"

"Because I'm sending Captain Green to fetch them but I want you to meet with them at a little café in Prague."

"Captain Green is collecting them." Violet's eyes widened, "The one who escaped prison in nineteen-nineteen?"

"He's the one. He's been working with us since he escaped and been a very valuable asset to us in our attempts to stop the rise of this power."

"Why send him to retrieve them?" Robert flipped through the photos and withdrew the two of the targets. "And which one of these is about to be the head of the SS?"

"The one of the left, General Crowborough." Isobel pointed, "And the other is a frequent collaborator with him. He's an arms manufacturer named Bricker and we'd like to get rid of him too but he's more like the second bird with the same stone if possible."

"But he's not the primary target?"

"No, he's beneficial collateral."

Violet shook her head, "What have we come to?" The other two in the room turned to her, "That we speak of death like something of no consequence in terms of our enemies."

"Death comes to us all."

"But it didn't use to have to come so violently." Violet nodded at Robert, "You'll be seeing them in Prague. I'm going back to London to make sure I'm there to facilitate any further help Mrs. Crawley here is destined to need."

"You make me sound so feeble." Isobel glared at Violet as the woman stood.

Violet smiled, "If I meant for you to sound feeble I'd have said you were feeble, wouldn't I?"

Three Days Later

He pulled the wire from under his teeth and eased his arm through the opening on his door to work the wire into the padlock on his cell. It clicked as the man in the cell next to him pulled a piece of flint from a hole in the wall before stringing the wire from his shirt from the cell bars to the window before going back to the bars.

The man with his hand out the door squinted until he heard a click then nodded at the other man. Drawing his arm out of the door the first man waited in the corner of his cell as the other struck the flint against the bars of his cell to catch the piece of string. It fizzled and burned all the way to the window as the two men covered their ears with cupped hands.

A tiny boom echoed through the cell and heavy smoke poured all over the room. Inmates coughed and yelled while two guards ran to the cell filled with smoke. The first man stuck his hand through the opening, yanked the open lock down, and opened the door.

With the lock in his hand he knocked the first guard in the back of the head and then wrapped his arm around the other man's throat, pulling tight while the guard's hands scrabbled at the arm before his body went limp. He dropped the bodies, digging on their belts before withdrawing a key ring. With a smile he held it up, dangling it in front of the other man in the cell.

"What do you think Branson, should I let you out?"

"I think it was the bloody deal we struck Moseley." Branson held his hand out for the keys and Moseley flipped through them, squinting at the lock before selecting the right one. "Really going to leave me were you?"

"From one Englishman to an Irishman it might've been in the best interest of my nation."

"But not for you." Branson grabbed the first guard, pulling him into the cell while Moseley took the legs of the other. "I think the bloke you've got is a little more my size."

"So we'll switch will we?"

"Unless you want me struggling to fit into those trousers." Branson unbuckled the belt and slipped it from the loops.

"It might be funny to watch." Moseley laughed, yanking the clothing off the guard he held before passing it to Branson.

They locked the two guards in Branson's cell and then walked up the corridor. Once at the main door Moseley bent down, examining the lock, and then held his hand out for the keys Branson held. He flicked through the keys to select one before pulling one out.

Just as he was about to open the door a man in a long, black trench coat stopped right in front of the door. Branson tapped Moseley's shoulder and he stood. Both swallowed as the man held up two photographs. He turned to them and then back to the men before nodding.

"Tom Branson and Joseph Moseley I presume?"

"Who's asking?" Branson managed, putting himself in front of Moseley.

The man tapped a metal finger, held onto his hand by two straps, against the bars. "Captain Green. Isobel and Violet Crawley want to extend you an offer."

"And who says we want it?" Moseley swallowed, holding his head higher.

"The same people who an get you out of this prison and all the way to Prague before someone asks about those guards in your cell."