Me: Yay! I'm a quick little typing bunny, huh? :D

Tintin: ... but, rabbits don't type... -_-''

Haddock: Hip hip hooray! I'm actually in this chapter! ^w^

Me: Yes, indeed, ma capitain~ :D - can't speak French to save her life...

Tintin: ... erm... ._.

Me: *glances at Tintin's awkward stare* U-um, anyway! Captain, will you do the disclaimer? :)

Haddock: Ok, uh, I think I've seen you do this before, Tintin... uh, AkuRoku18 does not own The Adventures of Tintin, nor is she making a profit off of this story. Otherwise she'd be a money grubbing, untrustworthy, troglodyte. :D

Me and Tintin: Ō_Ō

Haddock: ... what? :/

Me: Err... go read fanfiction. :I

Chapter 1

September 13, 1940

It was a relatively sleepy morning at Marlinspike Hall. The sun had just risen, birds began to chirp beautiful songs, and Captain Haddock started to yell in fury. Just another normal day at Marlinspike, Tintin thought to himself groggily as he pushed himself out of bed. Not bothering to fix the tuft of hair that sat like a gravity-defying, maimed ball of wool atop his head, he called Snowy and went to see what the Captain was so angry about.

"Ten thousand thundering typhoons! This is preposterous!" the Captain roared, staring at a small scrap of paper as if it were to burst into flames. It appeared to be a telegram, but Tintin couldn't read what it said from where he was standing.

"For heaven's sake, Captain, what is it this time…?" Tintin asked, ending his sentence with a yawn. Snowy glared at the Captain.

Captain Haddock whirled around, stomped over to the sleepy form of Tintin, shoved the paper under his nose and hissed, "Read this horrid telegram, Tintin!"

Tintin took the slip of paper and read it out loud, "'To Captain Archibald Haddock ("They even used my first name! The bashi-bazouks!"). Stop. Report to 48° 50' 5" N, 1° 36' 6" W for immediate shipment to England. Stop. Command Algérie to aid the British. End.' Great Snakes! The army wants to ship you to the warfront? Why?"

"Apparently, their heads are filled with rotten seaweed," Haddock muttered.

"Well, are you going to go? '48° 50' 5" N, 1° 36' 6" W'… that's Granville, right?"

"Aye. But I'm only going to tell them they're idiotic Polynesians!" spat the Captain. With that, he stormed out of the room to get breakfast, leaving Tintin to stare at the telegram.

Eventually, Tintin had the decency to change out of his nightclothes and straighten his hair. He came down to the table were Nestor had prepared breakfast. The Captain was sitting in his favorite chair, smoking his pipe and reading the paper. Professor Calculus was sitting across from the Captain, also reading the newspaper. When Tintin sat down, the Professor greeted, "A fine morning to you, Tintin!"

"I don't know about that, Professor. The Captain's been asked to go to war," Tintin replied heavily.

"A show at four? That sounds lovely," the Professor said happily.

"No, no. Professor, I said 'the Captain might go to war!'" Tintin said loudly. But Calculus went back to reading the paper, saying something or other about a show. Tintin sighed and grabbed himself a roll. Snowy barked and Tintin gave him a small piece of the roll.

Captain Haddock noticed Tintin's gloomy expression and said, "Oh, come on, Tintin. Don't look so down. I'm just going to leave for a couple days to tell that bunch of zapotecs that sent me the telegram that I'm not going to serve in the army." Tintin looked at the Captain skeptically. "Really, Tintin."

"Alright, I suppose. But, what if they still force you to join?"

"Ha! I'll give them a piece of my mind, that's for sure," Haddock continued. Then, he got up and yelled, "NESTOR!"

Almost immediately, the butler appeared through the door way. "You called, sir?" Nestor asked amusedly.

"Pack my bags, Nestor. I'm going to Granville!" Haddock ordered.

"Very well, sir." Nestor turned around and went hurriedly to the Captain's room.

The Captain sighed and said to Tintin, "I'll go help him. I need to bring some… er… extra provisions." With that, Haddock followed his butler's footsteps up to his room.

Tintin chuckled quietly and thought, Extra provisions? Bottles of whiskey, I'd bet… The reporter was drawn out of his thoughts when the Professor was waving the newspaper in front of his face.

"Look at this, Tintin! This article is amazing! Prodigious!" Calculus said excitedly.

"What's so prodigious about it?" Tintin asked. "I can't really see it when you move it around so much…"

"No, no, I said prodigious! Look, I'll read it for you." The Professor cleared his throat and read, "September 12, 1940. Lascaux, Corrèze. Four adolescent boys discover what could be the missing link in human history. Marcel Ravidat, Jacques Marsal, Georges Agnel, Simon Coencas, and Marcel's loyal dog, Robot, stumbled upon the cave by accident while exploring the surrounding area. The boys say that they found primitive drawings from thousands of years ago drawn on the walls of the cave.' Is that not fascinating?"

Tintin took the paper and read the article again and said, "Yes, it's amazing, Professor."

"Yes, but I'm talking about the caves, my dear boy. Can you imagine it? Discovering ancient artwork, completely by accident?"

"I imagine it would be interesting, to say the least."

"Yeast? What do you need yeast for? Are you brewing alcohol?"

The reporter sighed and stood to leave the room, when the Captain came back in with a heavy rucksack slung over his shoulder. Several parts of the bag stuck out awkwardly, as if he'd hastily shoved bottles into the pack before Nestor noticed. The Captain shifted the bag and said, "Well… uh… I'm off."

"Er… yes…" Tintin said blankly. "Don't let the army pull you into this mess."

"Pah. As if I'd let them, the slave-traders," Haddock replied confidently as he turned to leave. Nestor had called a car (with some difficulty with the phone-number) that waited patiently for the Captain. In just a few minutes, the car drove off of the grounds, on its way to Granville.

Professor Calculus seemed to notice that a car just pulled out of the gate, so he asked, "Is Captain Haddock going away?"

"Only for a few days," Tintin replied, trying to reassure himself. Snowy trotted over to his master and whimpered. Tintin knelt to scratch the little white dog's ears. "Only for a few days…"

Meanwhile, in Corrèze, under the light of the moon, a man wearing a black trench coat entered a dusty looking bar.

"Bonsoir, Monsieur Sylvestre. What can I get you this evening?" the bartender said, almost lazily.

"The usual," replied the man, taking a seat at the counter.

The bartender nodded and grabbed a bottle of vodka. He hastily cleaned a glass and poured the clear alcohol into it. "I honestly don't know why you like this Russian drink…"

The man at the counter chuckled and said, "Well, it's in my blood, you see…" He took a quick swig of the vodka and leaned in close to the bartender. "I have some information for Herr Löwenkopf about Mausschwanz," he whispered. The man was purposefully using German as code-words, just in case someone were to overhear.

"Well? What do you have, eh?"

"Mausschwanz is coming to Corrèze. Le Petit Vingtieme seems to trust me completely now, and they told me that he's going to be here," whispered the man in the black coat.

"Here…? Well, let him come. My men will launch 'Betrieb: Katz und Maus' immediately," the bartender hissed back. When another group of men walked in, he said, "It will be carried out, or may I be condemned to death. Hagel Kapitän von Gottfried!" As the bartender went to greet the other customers, the man in black smiled slyly and took another drink of vodka.