Time is not on your side; the moment for subtlety is over. You crack your knuckles, stride confidently to the nearest door, push it open, and enter the ship.
Almost immediately, you run into two crewmen sharing a joke in German. Both are wearing Nazi military uniforms. Clearly belowdecks, the undercover pretense is not deemed necessary. You only have a moment to feel gratified that Wang's intel about the ship was right before you notice one of the two soldiers getting over his surprise and reaching for his weapon.
"Spillane!" the soldier roars, but before he can get out another word, your fist connects hard with his jaw. He collapses, lights out, on the floor.
With a precise kick, you send his companion's Mauser pistol out of his hand, eliciting a roar of pain. The gun skitters across the steel grating on the floor. Before the man can recover, he too is lying in an unconscious heap on the floor.
Then chaos breaks out. Shouts and running footsteps sound behind you on deck, and a similar commotion is coming from several different directions belowdecks. Perhaps, on reflection, this wasn't the smartest plan of all time, but now you're committed. You have no choice but to press on.
You spot an iron staircase leading deeper into the bowels of the ship and hurry down, making for the cargo hold.
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