Part Four

At that meeting the three of them put the finishing touches on the plan for the team's activity on the island. Since most of these details had already been worked out - though some were still being kept a secret to Commander Zero and Aaron - this business was completed quickly. There was some time remaining on the clock for their planning session, and they sat idly for a bit. Soon, though, they began a general discussion about the war. While the consensus among the three was that with the US in the war there was no way Germany could win, there was huge disagreement over the details of what might happen. Aaron mostly remained quiet until after the other two had again fallen silent.

"Let's just hope that when this war is over the victors avoid the mistakes made by the victors of the previous war," said Aaron, quietly but with passion.

"Just what do you mean by that?" said Zero, his tone dangerous.

"I mean that not only was the Treaty of Versailles unfair to much of the population of Europe, but the Allies decided to arbitrarily split up lands of nations in multiple parts of the world," said Aaron, with more volume than before but equal feeling. "Then there were the terms forced on Germany. As a gentle answer can turn away wrath, so can being generous towards those you have defeated go a long way towards making them friends instead of hardened enemies. Something Lincoln understood, but which many of those who came after him didn't."

"We have a job to do and it's likely to get dirty," said Commander Zero, sternly. "We can't afford to be gentle with these people. Don't act like you're above this!"

"I am above this," said Aaron, his volume and the anger showing through his normally calm demeanor startling both of them. "We all are. Not just those of us in this group, and not just the empowered, but nearly everyone on Earth. This war should never have started. However, it has started, and now all reasonable people must do whatever they can to end it."

Aaron looked beyond the building's wall, into the distance, his gaze sad.

"We hoped that the world would learn from the first war. As well, many of us empowered hoped to unite the world in a golden age. Which we could have done, except for human greed. Including among the empowered. The 1929 market crash happened because safeguards put in place after the previous crash were removed. Due to them inhibiting speculation. Society keeps making the same mistakes over and over. Small wonder that some of our best and brightest left the planet as the drums of war began again sounding."

"This war was started by unreasonable people," said Zero, pointedly. "We may need to commit unreasonable actions to end it!"

"Which means normally reasonable people acting unreasonably," said Aaron, admitting the point.

"No argument there," said Mastermind, sadly.

"You know what they say," said Aaron, tiredly. "'Every cabbie in Paris has a bad back.'"

"What does that mean?" said Zero, still a bit belligerently but now also confused.

"That we are dealing with a cultural phenomenon," said Aaron, translating. "There may be no easy solution. We might have to literally beat those committing these offenses into submission to make them stop."

"'The German is either at your throat or at your feet,'" said Mastermind, quietly. "The Romans knew that."

* * *

The team was finally declared ready. They were given new, unmarked, dark blue jumpsuits, boots and backpacks, and armed with STEN guns. They had enough supplies for a few days, and enough ammunition for a couple of short engagements. Commander Zero and The Infiltrator were also carrying explosives and incendiaries. Or, rather, they were assigned those. Tallman wound up actually carrying most of that gear. Given his physical strength, the only problem this presented was supplying a backpack big enough and strong enough for him to carry everything he was supposed to bring.

The team took a train to western Scotland - traveling with troops the entire way but in a private car - then rode in an unmarked auto from the station to His Majesty's Naval Base, Clyde, at Faslane on the Gare Loch. On each leg the team members declined all offers of help with their luggage. Partly because even Molly was carrying a surprising amount weight, and partly because much of what they were carrying was... unusual.

At the base they spent two days waiting to ship out, again housed in an isolated barracks building. After the frantic days of training, the team found the forced idleness aggravating. They mostly passed the time talking. About anything, but especially their activities in the War.

"I tried to help out with the Battle of Britain," said Aaron, tiredly, in one of those discussions. "Got to London in late 1940. I downed dozens of planes... but the Germans had hundreds. Then their aircrews started watching for me. After a few close calls I pushed my luck too far. I was badly injured, left unconscious for weeks, which meant I couldn't even heal myself. By the time I woke, Hitler had decided to invade Russia, instead of the United Kingdom, and the Battle of Britain was over."

"So you missed your chance to be a hero," said Reynard, sarcastically, sitting on the other side of the small table in their barracks.

"I missed my chance to help. In that way. I found others."

Exactly what their ride to the island would be was kept secret from the group until just before they departed. Some of them suspected it hadn't been arranged, yet. Aaron half expected that they would go by seaplane, an assumption supported by them being sent to the Royal Navy base. However, when they were taken to the docks their actual transport turned out to be a submarine with an unusual structure on the foredeck.

The team was introduced to the Captain, though only ranks and mission code names were given.

"The M3 was built at the end of the last war and modified decades ago for carrying, launching and retrieving aircraft," the boat's Captain explained. "She's a bit outdated, not suited for modern submarine combat, but can still used for ferrying large cargo. On this mission, she'll carry you and your speedboat. She was put in dry dock when her sister, the M2 was lost in Thirty-two. She was recommissioned in Forty, after Dunkirk, when we needed every ship and boat. She has been modified for extended endurance on batteries, and is very quiet.

"With that hangar we can't go very fast or very deep," the Captain continued, with a nod. "However, we are definitely quiet."

"Looks cramped," said Tallman, understandably wary.

"We won't be aboard long," said Commander Zero, confidently.

* * *

They were actually on board the submarine for several days. This was because after the sub left the safety of the dock it made its way on a cautious path from western Scotland to the waters off the northern German coast. They only surfaced at night, to charge the batteries and refresh their air. Once they were detected by the radar of a British antisubmarine aircraft. The Captain prepared for a crash dive, but the sub's IFF Mk III system cleared it and the plane flew away without even turning on its Leigh light.

This slow trip meant even more idle time for the team. They were only allowed into the fresh air at night, when the submarine's diesel engines were running to charge the batteries. There wasn't even any moonlight, their journey starting just before the new Moon. Unfortunately, the extreme level of caution was necessary for their mission.

* * *

In those close quarters Aaron couldn't help but notice that Tallman was uncharacteristically subdued. He thought at first that this was due to the cramped surroundings, but soon realized there was something else at work. He finally decided to confront the big man over his obvious problem.

"What is eating you?" said Aaron, quietly, when he was able to catch Tallman as alone as they could get in the submarine. Neither needed much sleep; though there were crew members operating the submarine all night, just now only the two of them were in the small galley.

"A good way to put it," said Tallman, his manner just as quiet. "I have tuberculosis. So far, though, it's not causing me any real problem."

"I might be able..."

"No!" snapped Tallman, lunging to his feet, his voice ringing against the steel walls. "No, you don't. Do you always have to leap in when someone is in trouble? No. Sometimes people have to handle things on their own."

"Your choice," said Aaron.

They looked each other in they eye for a moment.

"I need to deal with this on my own. If I survive this mission I might - Might! - look for help. Until then, I'm fine."

He glared at Aaron.

"You hear me? Fine!"

"All right," said Aaron, quietly. "As I said, that's your choice."

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was unremarkable. However, once it was over, boredom again set in for members of the team. Aggravating this was the fact that the small group of commandos was antsy, eager to get out and on with their mission. According to the sub's captain they would be at their destination the next night. All this meant that the commandos were desperately looking for something - anything - to fill the remaining hours. Mostly, this meant talking. The excuse now was that they were getting to know each other better.

"You haven't been in the news much for several years," said Molly quietly to Aaron, as she and the others on the team sat in the mess deck, after the tables had been cleared. This was the only non-busy area aboard large enough for them all to sit together and talk. She lowered her voice even more. "I mean, Malak hasn't."

"I have had occasional problems with... followers," said Aaron, obviously uncomfortable with the topic, also also speaking very quietly. "Cultists who think I think I am truly an angel, as well as opportunists preying on their gullibility. Also, there are situations where my current form is actually better suited. If only because it is less recognizable."

He gave a tired, very aggravated sigh.

"That... veneration I mentioned is likely a large part of the reason I was excommunicated."

"You were excommunicated?!" said Tallman, astounded, causing heads to turn among the few crew members present. "YOU?! Mister 'Live life like you're answerable to God for everything'?!"

"Someone lied to Pope Pius XI in late 1938," said Aaron, sadly and still quietly. "This person told him I was claiming to be an actual angel, and further said I claimed to be passing along the actual Word of God. They even presented falsified evidence of such acts. His Holiness was already busy trying to crack down on people claiming divine authority - including the Nazis - and believed the lies. I suspect whoever convinced the Pope was a Nazi sympathizer, someone who was aware of my words and work against the NSDAP. To be fair, Pope Pius XI and I shared many goals, including an end to antisemitism. However, he was both preoccupied in trying times, and in increasingly poor health.

"As well, both my wife and I were outspoken in supporting expanded roles for women in society, to which Pius XI was opposed."

Since women were an important part of both the British war effort and this specific mission, that such an attitude was not one shared by most of those at the table went unsaid.

* * *

Some of the team members watched the sailors hosting and transporting them for ideas on ways to handle the time. Poker was the diversion of choice for many in the submarine's crew during their off time. Some of the team members even participated.

Tallman didn't, even though he liked to gamble. He claimed the space where most of the card games took place - a narrow aisle between rows of bunks - was too cramped for him. He had a point. However, he may simply have wanted to avoid antagonizing those in charge of their transport. He was an expert at poker, and they were mostly amateurs. Though he definitely wasn't averse to winning.

When Tallman saw Aaron watching one of the crew's poker games from a distance, he gave a short guffaw.

"What?" said Aaron, turning to him.

"It just struck me. You could probably win every poker game you played, with that calm face of yours."

"Why would I do that?" said Aaron, honestly confused.

"You really aren't human," said Tallman, smirking, "are you?"

Aaron had no idea what he meant, or what to say in response.

* * *

Fortunately, the time they had to wait was not only finite, but in the grand scheme of things - even on the human scale - it was short. Finally, the submarine surfaced off the island of Vilm.