Chapter Two, Part Nine Hold a short but indignant speech to divert their attention from me re-cocking the revolver.
Fire gun at pilot at "en", then dodge to the side.
Aboard the Zeppelin, there is no end in sight to the missing tea and biscuits scandal in which the German crew members have found themselves embroiled.
Von Fersen is outraged, and prepares his revolver.
"Why I'll be - trespassers?! We were invited up here, lured by the promise of tea and biscuits before we were summarily ambushed and attacked! Such gruesome manners! You, sirs, are nothing but common goons in a gentleman's dressing! I'll never yield to the likes of you! En… "
His captivating and tremendous speech [5+1] leaves the shotgun armed pilot spellbound; he looks on helplessly as the one-armed crew member feels rightfully ashamed and prepares tea and biscuits for their guests. Neither notices the Swede preparing his revolver to fire again, and neither notices as von Fersen raises the gun, aiming at the pilot.
Both, however, notice the deafening explosion as the damnable German contraption in von Fersen’s hand misfires [1+1].
“…Garde. Bother. Not another one. Blast.”
Von Fersen is relieved to note that he still possesses all of his body parts, as well as an apparently fully functioning revolver. He is not, though, as relieved as the German Kapitan-Pilot, who raises his shotgun at the Swede.
Should the German make a move against Von Fersen, inform him of my explosive top hat.
“I say,” says
Wellington [2+1], standing beside von Fersen. “I should like to remark that I hold, here in my very hand, one of the finest top hats in Christendom. Engineered by the finest minds the British Empire has produced, it is capable of blowing you and your precious Zeppelin to kingdom come. If you do not put down that gun, I shall set it orf.”
The German does not look entirely convinced that even an Englishman would care to attempt to board his dirigible armed with but a top hat. He lowers the shotgun slightly to adjust his monocle and peer forward to examine the hat; and then decides to raise it again.
“I suggest you put up your hands and keep them there, my good sirs. I care not for your foppish top hat. This is my ship, and my shotgun. Moltmann!” he says, glancing towards the one-armed crew member, “Stop preparing that bloody tea! If I so much as see another biscuit I’ll bloody well throw them over the side and you with them!”
Get up and climb into the blimp. Then see how things work out for me.
At this moment,
Mr Link reaches the top of the rope ladder, and climbs aboard the wicker basket, much to the captain’s consternation. In fact, Link appears in such as stealthy and surprising manner [6] that the captain reacts wildly, blasting both barrels of his shotgun in Link’s direction.
But alas for the German! Link jumps onto the floor of the basket in the split-second before the Kapitan-Pilot pulls the trigger; the basket sways. The German loses his balance, and both barrels blow an enormous hole in the floor of the basket! The tremendous recoil sends the pilot careering backwards, and all of a sudden he smashes against the wall of the wicker basket, flips over, and goes flying to his death hundreds of feet below. He is struck down!
“Aha. It would seem that the Kapitan did not want to hang about for tea and biscuits, eh what?”
The Zeppelin continues to drift towards the East.
Sleep, but with purpose! What purpose? Um... to be refreshed?
Back on the train, seeing how a selection of their gentlemanly companions have deserted their more prosaic company for the thrills of airship theft, Smith, McGeenyton and "G"? settle down for a brief period of relaxation before the breath taking Swiss border surges into view.
Smith, the American, embodying the ever practical and purposeful confidence of his young country, decides to purposefully nap [5]. He is awoken sometime later as the train pulls into Geneva Central Station, fully refreshed.
Refreshment Acquired! +1 bonus to a single roll of your choice in the next day.
Screw that, more tea and more interrogation.
In the next carriage along, the exclusive and much used of late tea wagon,
McGeenyton requests another tea, thinking he might interrogate the Germans who have been left behind on the train by their merciless comrades. Sitting down at the Germans’ table, menacingly and without introduction, McGeenyton picks up his tea to take a gentlemanly sip [1]. He swallows a mouthful of tea leaves! He retches in disgust! His faith in the infallibility of the English Butler and his Tea-Preparing Methods is shaken! He is insufficiently refreshed!
The forsaken Englishman staggers to his feet, vision blurred and mind reeling. Arms outstretched, he attempts to find his way to the tea wagon door so as to be able to retire to his sleeping wagon and experience this deep personal crisis in private. The door is jammed!
Traumatic Tea Experience! -1 penalty to rolls until midday.
“G”, meanwhile, disappointed at the discontinuation of Smith’s musical experiment, seeks solace in the form of tobacco. He nimbly fits a fine cigarette into his cigarette holder, equally nimbly lights it, and sits back, and relaxes [3]. It is a mildly satisfying experience, but not so much as he had hoped, so he decides that the best course of action would, of course, be to have a nap. It is, after all, the early hours of the morning, and a busy day ahead is most likely.
Dawn, Saturday 26th January, 1906, Geneva Central Station, GenevaAfter some considerable time spent struggling with the tea wagon door, McGeenyton realises that it is day, and that the train has pulled into Geneva Central Station. The three gentlemen who were still travelling by train descend from their Gentleman Class Sleeping Cabins, or, indeed, from the tea wagon, and a station hand carries their luggage. Having first to pass through Swiss customs, the gallant threesome are directed past a waiting line and directly into the office of the
Chief Customs Officer. He asks each man the same questions, and they remember Sir Melville’s warning about the Swiss fondness for spies.
“Are you here on business? Or pleasure? Do you have anything to declare?”Smith, “G” and McGeenyton are being interrogated in Swiss Customs.
Von Fersen, Wellington and Link are aboard the pilot-less Zeppelin with the hole in the floor and the one-armed German preparing tea. They are in France, probably about an hour’s flight from both the German and the Swiss borders.