The smell of snaps wafted over the room as the formally clad men sat in the room, drab faces painted on all of them, as they impatiently sat. They were located in a dark, mostly empty basement, with the only discernible feature being a long dining room table.
"Who are we waiting for?"
"Sebastian, I think."
The man, who could only be identified by his colonel's stripes, let out a huff in response, as he settled back into his seat and took another swig of his snaps.
"Hey, go easy on that, Hans."
"Do not tell me what to do, I am your officer, Sergeant."
"No, you're not, not anymore." Peter motioned to his attire, which was noticeably lacking any military insignia, "Not since last year."
There were three men in the room, Hans, Peter, and the bartender who was remaining stoic at the far wall. They knew only the basics of one another, but nothing more than that. They knew enough about each other to be friendly, but not enough to tell more than two facts about them. This made conversations rather dry, however, they believed that dryness was preferable to a hole in the middle of Jutland or whatever would happen to them if they were captured.
"How long will he take?" Continued Hans, pressing the issue of Sebastian further.
"How am I supposed to know? Look, just enjoy the free snaps. He'll be here eventually."
"Look, I am wanted in Copenhagen by tomorrow. If I am late, people begin asking questions, if they begin asking questions, this whole schtick would be up."
"And who's going to ask questions? The Germans don't care enough to question anyone, the Gestapo barely exists here, please you'll be fine if you don't even show up." Peter raised his voice to which the bartender began getting uneasy, and without saying a word, motioned at him to keep his voice down.
"You address me as sir, Sergeant."
"I am not a sergeant anymore, I can address you how I like."
Suddenly, from the basement stairs came a cough, and the sound of footsteps began clapping down the steps. A man entered, ducking under the overhang as he slowly and methodically made his way into the room strutting in a rhythm. Both the men at the table stood up in response to this figure, and saluted.
"Sir."
"Sebastian."
"Gentlemen, shall we begin?"
The bartender then shut the door behind the man and sat down at the table.
"What's the situation like in the government?"
"It's fine, it's working", Hans began in his brief. "There is little to report, sir, parliament has managed to repel another series of reforms the Germans are pushing, primarily concerning the Jewish question. We do sense another crackdown on newspapers may be coming, but that is primarily speculation. Other than that, the government is operating as it normally is and about as independently as we are going to get."
"Good, good, good work, Colonel."
"Thank you, sir." Hans sat down again promptly.
"Sebastian, everything is good over in Sweden?"
"Yes, once again not much to report over on that front either, the information we have been sending to England is mostly getting through and I think we are helping the RAF keep control of their Messerschmitt problem. On the Free Army front, they are mostly still blending into the Swedish police to avoid the eye of Hitler, but they are armed now and hoping to begin preparing for armed operations sometime in the future."
"Armed operations?" His eyebrows raised at this query, and he appeared a little taken aback by the proposal.
"Well, far future, but yes, there is talk of them regaining a military presence back here, but this is not without its complications. We think the Free Navy is also proposing some ideas, but I think they are too entangled with the English to have much autonomy over it."
"Well, keep me informed on that, and tell them not to do anything until we approve it."
"I don't know if we can do that, they seem pretty content acting on their own accord."
Sebastian put his hand up to his chin and thought again.
"Well then", a beat, "keep on doing your job, keep me updated."
"Of course."
"Anything else to report?"
Peter continued with his brief, standing up and pacing around the room.
"Well, small things, some kids reportedly came across one of our stashes in the North, but I think that's all under control. I've distributed some more radios as well, one of which to my friend Rasmus, you know, the smart one. But apart from that, not much really."
"Well, men, thank you for your time."
"Wait Sebastian-" Peter looked a little bit frantic at the comment, trying to capture Sebastian before he began moving towards the exit, knowing that he would not get a better chance to catch him than now.
"Yes, Peter?"
"Well, look, I've been thinking, but when will we begin to do more?"
Suddenly, Hans intruded, "Peter, you know yourself that it is not our position to exacerbate this situation. We have a very good deal under the Germans, if we push our luck, who knows what they could do?"
"Exactly, that's the problem! We are sitting here as the Nazi walk over us but as they walk over us with slightly cleaner boots than they did with the French or Dutch we are okay with it?"
The room fell silent, as all three sets of eyes stared at Peter, taking in what he was saying.
"Sergeant, that is not what I'm saying-"
"Call me sergeant one more time, I swear-"
"Okay, okay. Calm down here." Sebastian's voice boomed over in the compact room as he once again regained authority over the scene. "Colonel, thank you, now if I'm not mistaken, you have a meeting in Copenhagen to attend?"
"You are correct, sir."
"Well, you better get going, don't want to draw attention to yourself coming late, there should be a train in" Sebastian pulled his watch up to his face and glanced at it "-around twenty minutes, you better not miss it."
"Thank you, sir. Are we meeting again at the same time?"
"Yes, that sounds good."
"Then I bid you goodnight, sir, Peter, Anton."
Anton let out a sigh of approval at the mention, as Peter managed to wave, even in his angered state.
"Anton, please, mind the entrance if you will."
Without saying anything, Anton moved away as well, leaving Peter and Sebastian in the room alone.
"Cigarette, Peter?"
"Yes, thank you."
Peter placed a cigarette into his mouth as Sebastian put the container back into his jacket pocket, neglecting to take one himself.
"I get it, Peter, I know how hard it is for us to be stood on like this, but there is no victory in rushing into this fight."
"It isn't a fight, that's the issue."
"It's always been a fight, since the moment those troops marched through, it's just not, how does one put it, conventional fighting." Sebastian sat down next to Peter at the table and passed him another hit of snaps, which he accepted gladly. "We win this by gaining support, and that support isn't gained by bringing us into needless violence."
"I understand, I understand."
"I know you do, Peter, otherwise I wouldn't have brought you on board with us."
"I just need to know we can win this, Sebastian. Look at them out there, they've basically forgotten about us, and yet they are constantly feeding us to the wolves again and again."
"And that's good! It's good they have forgotten us because that means our lives are very easy at the moment, in a few years, this may not be the case."
"And that's the problem, in a few years, how are we supposed to live like that for a few years?"
"By fighting, that's how." Before Peter could retort, Sebastian began speaking again, "Now you need to leave here before suspicion is drawn, leave by the front entrance, but avoid the patrols, they should be mostly on the main street." Peter, without protesting, got up and began to leave the basement. However, before he left the room, Sebastian called out to him, "And hey, hopefully when this is all over, you'll become sergeant again sometime soon", which managed to induce a chuckle out of Peter.
Sebastian looked around the room, seeing the lack of decorations, before letting out a sigh. "That kid doesn't know a thing about oppression." Seeing the departure of Peter, Anton returned to the room, looking at Sebastian, who was clutching his face in his hands.
"Kid give you troubles?"
"Well, you know him better than I do."
"He means well, I just wouldn't rely on him."
"We can't rely on anyone anymore, Anton, that's why your stoicism is such a good trait."