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Mar. 16th, 2011 12:52 amCarlotta pulls the pint and hands it over. This blending in lark seems to be going pretty well; nobody seems even remotely suspicious of her yet.
She finds a likely target late in the first week of bar work. People tend to get careless when they're drunk. One particular fool had a swasticke tattood on his scalp, just visible on his balding head as she got him more drinks. Idiot.
She kept him talking, drinking, occasionally slipping a little bit of very strong vodka into his glass. At the end of the evening, he's just sitting there laughing. She has his name, occupation, and has worked out by his visiting patterns that he's probably having meetings on Thursdays. One of the other barmaids tells her that he comes to the pub daily, the other days at the same time.
"I think you've had a few too many." she says, in impeccable Spanish, raising an eyebrow. "Think you can find your way home?"
"Yeeah I only gudda go two streets." the man says. "Night Sara."
He gets up and falls over. She rolls her eyes and goes to call back to the barman.
"Do you know where this man lives?" She asks. "I think he needs a little help."
Her boss comes out the front and rolls his eyes.
"You've got muscles on you, give us a hand." he says.
Together, they carry the staggering man home. She makes a mental note of the address.
She bides her time until the next Thursday, casually managing to arrange her shifts to give her that night off. Then heads to the house under cover of darkness. She waits until nobody is around, then hides in a tree. When the man comes out, she tails him to the meeting, then sneaks around the house, cat-like, trying to find somewhere to listen, or to get a microphone in.
She crawls along the ground to get to an air brick in the wall, nudges the microphone through, and then retreats to a tree a little way away.
The first thing she discovers is that she has correctly found a German sympathetic group. The second thing she discovers is that they're not very well organised. As well as the idiot with the swasticke tattood on his scalp, there seems to be five others in the room. Three men and two women. They don't seem to have any sort of plan, but they discuss the Gibraltar tunnels. Doesn't sound like they've found a way in, but they're working on it. One of the women is trying to seduce a British soldier into giving away an entrance.
After the meeting, Carlotta keeps perfectly still and quiet (though she's dying for a wee by this point), trying to get a quick glimpse of the others. It's too dark, however, and she has to stay in the tree for another half an hour before it's safe to go down and retrieve the microphone.
It's not much, but it feels good to have something to report. Perhaps the army can intervene with the soldier being seduced? She didn't get his name (probably just as well, in case they had him shot) but perhaps they could issue some sort of generic warning?
She heads back to her room, and when she's sure she won't be overheard, relays information back to England.
She finds a likely target late in the first week of bar work. People tend to get careless when they're drunk. One particular fool had a swasticke tattood on his scalp, just visible on his balding head as she got him more drinks. Idiot.
She kept him talking, drinking, occasionally slipping a little bit of very strong vodka into his glass. At the end of the evening, he's just sitting there laughing. She has his name, occupation, and has worked out by his visiting patterns that he's probably having meetings on Thursdays. One of the other barmaids tells her that he comes to the pub daily, the other days at the same time.
"I think you've had a few too many." she says, in impeccable Spanish, raising an eyebrow. "Think you can find your way home?"
"Yeeah I only gudda go two streets." the man says. "Night Sara."
He gets up and falls over. She rolls her eyes and goes to call back to the barman.
"Do you know where this man lives?" She asks. "I think he needs a little help."
Her boss comes out the front and rolls his eyes.
"You've got muscles on you, give us a hand." he says.
Together, they carry the staggering man home. She makes a mental note of the address.
She bides her time until the next Thursday, casually managing to arrange her shifts to give her that night off. Then heads to the house under cover of darkness. She waits until nobody is around, then hides in a tree. When the man comes out, she tails him to the meeting, then sneaks around the house, cat-like, trying to find somewhere to listen, or to get a microphone in.
She crawls along the ground to get to an air brick in the wall, nudges the microphone through, and then retreats to a tree a little way away.
The first thing she discovers is that she has correctly found a German sympathetic group. The second thing she discovers is that they're not very well organised. As well as the idiot with the swasticke tattood on his scalp, there seems to be five others in the room. Three men and two women. They don't seem to have any sort of plan, but they discuss the Gibraltar tunnels. Doesn't sound like they've found a way in, but they're working on it. One of the women is trying to seduce a British soldier into giving away an entrance.
After the meeting, Carlotta keeps perfectly still and quiet (though she's dying for a wee by this point), trying to get a quick glimpse of the others. It's too dark, however, and she has to stay in the tree for another half an hour before it's safe to go down and retrieve the microphone.
It's not much, but it feels good to have something to report. Perhaps the army can intervene with the soldier being seduced? She didn't get his name (probably just as well, in case they had him shot) but perhaps they could issue some sort of generic warning?
She heads back to her room, and when she's sure she won't be overheard, relays information back to England.
