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angrydurf

Thule Me Once IC

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April 30th 1944 London England, Special Operations Executive bunker.

Bombshell had just returned from deep cover in Berlin stirring up some of the High Command against the Fuhrer. She hadn't expected a break, after all there was a war on, but being met at the airfield and pulled directly into a meeting with the Chief was fast turnaround even by SOE standards.

She was shown directly in and the chief smiled up at her as she stepped through the door, "Natalya come in sit." He said indicating one of the three chairs in the room longing lackadaisically in one was a handsome American, lack of uniform suggested OSS but you could never be sure. He flashed the curvy blond a dazzling smile she was sure melted the girls hearts back home and stood to introduce himself, "Hi there, I'm Captain Ace Danger." he said as he took her hand and planted a gente but slightly too lingering kiss on her knuckles. If he wasn't having one on he had to be one of the youngest captains she'd ever seen he may have even been younger than her but war was a funny thing and not an old mans game anyway.

The Chief cleared his throat and with a tight smile continued, "Yes our cousins have loaned Captain Danger to us for a special operation of tantamount importance. Your third should be arriving any moment."

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Although she'd been dragged from plane to meeting directly, Natalya stepped into the room on one peeptoed shoe and offered one deceptively delicate hand to the rougish American. She flashed him the smile that had dazzled more than one Nazi into giving up their secrets and arched the one brow that wasn't obscured by her waving golden hair.

"Ace Danger? I rather think I've heard tell of your reputation." Her voice was clipped, the accent posh and elegantly British but her smile was entirely wicked, "Tell me, Captain, is it entirely deserved?"

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Ace laughed a hearty and free laugh, "Only the good parts my lovely." He boasted, "The rest is the blackest slander." The handsome young American returned to his seat inquiring casually, "So I hear you've just returned from Berlin. How goes Val ..." The chiefs once more cleared his throat frowning at the brash American, "That is top secret and you are most certainly not supposed to know about it."

Ace merely shrugged but his eyes told Natalya all she needed to know he hadn't known until the chief had spoken.

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A deliberate, heavy knock on the door earned a call from the Chief, and after a few moments a new figure entered the room. With perfect protocol, Lieutenant Ivan Petrov entered and snapped off a salute to the ranking Allied officers in the room. Behind the half-open unmarked officer's greatcoat he wore, Ace Danger and Bombshell could make out an immaculate Red Army uniform. There were certainly more Soviet officers visiting London these days than there had been in the past, and the black-haired, black-eyed man with the pale face and foreign uniform looked like any number of them. "Sir!" he said with a Russian's slow pace and distinct Slavic accent. "Lieutenant Ivan Petrov! Reporting as ordered."

From his overflowing pockets, he produced a neatly folded sheet of orders, handing them to the chief with military precision. His gaze swept over Ace Danger and Bombshell with a trifle more humor than his martial bearing showed; he knew enough to know that these were far more than simple imperialist espionage agents! His work with the Allies of Freedom, though behind bright red face mask and code name, had taught him not to distrust British and Americans on sight. Well, not entirely, anyway...

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Talya arched one delicate eyebrow up higher, her expression betrayed nothing but mild amusement at Ace's probing and she turned to face the door as the Russian entered. She waited for the paperwork to be handed around and the formal salutes with the bare minimum of patience. Talya had never been one for strict regimes, which is why she was a much better spy than a soldier. After he had the 'at ease' nod from the commander, Talya extended one hand as a smile curved her lips. "I do so love a man in uniform. ЗдравÑтвуйте. I'm Natalya Browing, codename Bombshell. Как Ñ‚ÐµÐ±Ñ Ð·Ð¾Ð²ÑƒÑ‚?"

She interspersed the Russian 'Hello' and 'What's your name?' seamlessly with the English, her accent unnoticable except for the lack of a regional inflection.

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"I am Lieutenant Ivan Petrov of the 2nd Belorussian Front," said Ivan politely, switching to Russian to give the name of the Army division he was technically attached to despite his service with the People's Heroes. "But on the Eastern Front, I am designated товарищ бомба." Code names and secret identities were part of Soviet military policy, a conscious effort to keep their super-soldiers from overshadowing the accomplishments of "the workers and peasants of the Soviet Union." But Ivan had his orders to cooperate and play along with the Westerners...and, truthfully, it was far easier this way. After all, weren't they all, well, comrades now?

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Ace waved a casual greeting to the Russian soldier, "Hello Comrade," rather irreverently, already there had been tensions betwixt the Americans and the Soviets despite their common enemy.

Before the situation got out of hand the Chief waved Ivan to a seat and began his briefing handing them each a folio stamped top secret. Inside were diagrams and even a few high altitude photographs of a French Chateau, from the set of maps included it looked to be in Normandy. Also included were sketchy details about a Nazi project labeled Sturmflut, Storm Tide.

Activating the small projector on his desk the chief began to explain the mission after giving the agents a few moments to peruse the limited dossiers. "This is Chateau de Falaise." He intoned as a rather dated picture of the French castle was displayed, "Recently we have been passed word from the Maquis operating in the region that some kind of major operation is underway at the location. Very hush hush, its well outside the boundaries of the Atlantic Wall but the area is strictly off limits for civilians and even normal army soldiers, SS only operation." He looked to the team to see if they had any questions and continued, "We were able to ID this man," the projector revealed an image of an aristocratic Prussian in full SS regalia, "Wiliam Kantor, believed to be a ranking member of the Thule Society, as well as several other unknowns believed to be Thule mystics, en route to the Chateau."

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Ivan scowled, his heavy eyebrows furrowing. "Kantor." he spat, his disgust obvious. "His sorcery is a blight on even the civilization of the fascists." He thought carefully, comparing his Soviet political education with what he'd seen of the attitudes and plans of the West. "You speak to us. Not the Allies of Freedom. I take it your super-soldiers are needed elsewhere?" Perhaps the Second Front that the Allies had been promising Stalin since 1942 was finally in the offing, he thought, though he was too polite to make an issue of it. He'd had experience enough on this side of the war to see the valor of Americans, British, and French alike!

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"Well, if my skill set is neccessary, I rather imagine they're looking for something a little more subtle than sending the Allies in guns blazing," Talya murmured as she flipped through the dossier with a keen eye, "If I were a betting woman, my money would be that there's someone or something quite specific that's our primary goal."

She crossed her legs, the narrow pencil skirt pulling taunt with the gesture. Talya closed the dossier and looked up, tapping one slender fingertip against her full lower lip thoughtfully as she added, "Something rather nasty if I don't miss my guess."

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"Da." Ivan's broad Slavic face turned dour indeed. "I heff assisted the Red Army in the liberation of certain facilities built in the occupied portions of the Rodina by the Thule Society. Their destruction will be a pleasure, especially in the company of such worthy allies." He'd heard of both these agents, after all, and it never hurt to remind them all of what side they were on.

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