Chapter Three

"A Most Ambitious Plan."

Somewhere high above Germany.

Through a heavy snowstorm, a lone Ju 52 transport plane flew through the night. In the back of the plane, Canada and America sat, loaded with gear and parachutes.

"Hey, Alfred?" Canada shouted over the din of the engines.
"Yeah?" America responded.
"You didn't forget anything, right?"
"Nope! It's all packed in the container!"

A red light by the door light up.

"Okay, let's do this!" Canada said, getting up from his seat.

The two secured their static lines and checked their gear. Canada opened the door and hooked up the weapons drop. When the light turned green, he kicked the pod out and followed after it, his chute opened and he drifted to the ground, protected from the biting cold by his heavy winter clothing. Soon, he landed, somehow next to the drop. America landed soon afterwards.

"Okay, remember to bury the chutes!" Canada whispered.
"I know, I know!" America replied, already burying his.

Canada opened up the supply container, and handed America a Thompson submachinegun, before retrieving an M1 rifle for himself.

"Have you got the camera?" America asked.
"Yep." Canada replied as he used a flashlight to look at his map. "Looks like our target is halfway down this mountain. We should get to our primary infiltration point by morning, if the patrols aren't too heavy."

With their gear loaded on to them, their skis on their backs and the evidence of their drop safely buried under the deep snow, the two began their trek down the mountain.

"Try to breathe through your mouth, that way the mask won't get all icy." Canada reminded his brother as he stepped over a fallen log.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." America replied, following the trail Canada had made. As they emerged from a tree line, they found themselves on a road.
"This is the road on the map, so we're heading the right way." Canada commented.
"Shh! Do you hear that?" America said.

Canada listened, and he could hear voices. Turning his head, he saw lights coming up the road.

"Jerry patrol! Take cover! Take cover!" Canada whispered.

The two quickly dove into a ditch that ran along the road.

"Stay quiet and don't move!" Canada whispered.

The two listened as the sounds of boot steps, and German voices laughing and chatting grew louder and louder. They held their breath as the patrol walked past them. They waited until the sounds drifted farther and farther away, and only until they knew the patrol was out of sight, did they breathe a sigh of relief.

"Christ that was too close!" America whispered as they climbed out of the ditch.
"I hope England appreciates the risk we're taking." Canada said as he double checked that neither of them had left something in the ditch before they left to their objective.

A day or so earlier, at Allied Headquarters.

Sprawled out on a sofa in his office, America snored loudly, a small strand of drool leaking from the corner of his mouth. He was in such a deep slumber that he didn't notice Canada when he entered the room.

"America?" Canada said. "Alfred, wake up!"

America was unresponsive. Canada slammed the door shut, the loud noise roused America from his sleep.

"Huh... wha...? I wasn't sleeping! I swear! Oh, hey Canada, what's up?"
"Sleeping on the job again, eh?" Canada smirked.
"No! I was just... resting my mind that's all. I need to give this source of our tactical genius a break once in a while, right?"
"Suuuure." Canada said, rolling his eyes. "Did you see this memo England sent us?"
"No... It's probably on my desk." America replied.

Canada looked at the vast array of toys and other distractions on America's desk.

"Yeah, right." Canada sighed. "Here, listen to this."
"I'm all ears!" America replied, rolling over.

Canada read from the paper in his hands

To: Matthew Williams, the Dominion of Canada, and Alfred F. Jones, the United States of America.
Memorandum: Deployment of First Special Service Force, Infiltration, Espionage, Sabotage and other ungentlemenly acts of warfare detachment.

Background:

Dear Gentlemen,

This memo concerns the necessary deployment of you two in a secret operational capacity, (Remember Lads: Secret = British Top Secret) worthy of your capabilities.

It is the decision of our high command that an increased knowledge of our enemy must be undertaken in order to deliver a swift and satisfying end to our conflict against the Axis War machine. As such, I have authorized your insertion into enemy territory in order to obtain this needed information.

Objective:

Primary Objective(s):

(1) Infiltrate Enemy Territory, and proceed to enemy installation.

(2) Locate enemy agent (Picture enclosed) and photograph said agent in a compromising position, preferably with the minimal amount of clothing, garments or other such obstructions.

(3) Escape by any means necessary.

Secondary Objective(s):

(1) Obtain any available enemy intelligence, tactical or otherwise.

Infiltration:

The two of you will be dropped via parachute into Germany, on a mountain a few kilometres above your objective. This will be a night time drop, at a point when a snowstorm which our meteorologists predict in the area will be at its worst. This will be understandably risky, but critical in order to guarantee a minimal chance of detection by enemy anti-aircraft installations.

On hand for this asset will be a captured Ju 52 transport with Luftwaffe markings. It will deposit you into enemy territory, where upon it will proceed to friendly territory.

From your landing site, you will proceed on foot to your primary target.

Exfiltration:

That's for you lads to figure out.

Conclusion:

This operation must be kept secret from all unauthorized personal. Especially France.

Signed,

Arthur Kirkland, The United Kingdom.

"And that's what he wrote." Canada ended.
"He wants us to drop behind enemy lines, and get him some dirty photos?" America asked in disbelief.
"It would appear so."
"Okay. Who's the agent?"
"See for yourself."

Canada flicked a small photo over to America, who caught it and took a look. It was a photo of a blonde woman, a very serious expression on her face, wearing a German Uniform.

"Oh my God, he wants us to catch girl Germany in her skivvies." America said.
"Yeah, sure looks that way."
"This does not seem like something England would ask us to do. He's a real prude when it comes to naked people." America tossed the photo back to his brother.
"Well, to be fair, she is quite attractive, for such a robust woman."
"Yeah, I'd like to bend her over and show her the forty-eight states!" America chuckled.
"March your troops through her Brandenburg Gate?" Canada smiled.

America rolled off of the couch, crying with laughter.

"Oh man, that's a good one." He cried.
"So, are we going to do this?" Canada asked.
"Yeah, why not?" America sighed.
"Alright, you go tell him we're on it." Canada said, heading to the door.
"Where are you going?" America asked.
"I've got a date." Canada replied, and left the room.

"Cool." America said as he got back onto the couch.

"Wait...WHAT?" He shouted.