Sleeping soundly and being abruptly awakened is definitely a frustrating experience, and that's exactly what happened to Anna Feck, a retired British Army officer twelve years ago. Last night, before going to bed, he finally managed to "feed" his middle-aged wife, who was at the age where she was still vigorous like a wolf. If this had been ten years ago, Feck would have been as lively as ever the next day, but time spares no one, and now just one intense session of physical activity would leave the poor middle-aged man unable to get out of bed until mid-morning the next day. So, when his door was forcefully knocked on, Feck initially pretended not to hear it, but Mitchell, that guy, was born a brute, and without fully understanding the situation, he kicked the door open. Well, now Feck would have to go out tomorrow with panda eyes, and he also had to quickly find someone to fix the door, or Lisa, his wife, would start complaining again!
"Seems like things have quieted down. Can we go home and sleep now?"
The patrol officer sitting next to Feck, who looked to be around the same age, had an old-fashioned rifle in his arms. Just half a month ago, they patrol officers were just gathering for monthly training as part of the local reserve forces, but now they had become the "regular army" in the area, ready to be called upon at any time. While the police still had their shifts and could collect salaries, the patrol officers were basically doing voluntary labor!
Feck, already filled with anger and nowhere to vent, replied angrily, "Go back? Forget it! Just stay put and wait until it's light out! Who told you to report hearing explosions and gunshots!"
The patrol officer didn't get angry either, calmly yawning, "Alright, I didn't hear anything from start to finish. Wake me up if anything happens!"
"Go ahead and sleep! When the Germans come and cut off your balls, then they'll cook and eat your wives!"
Feck threatened and intimidated, but this was after all the local patrol, not the army. Mitchell, with his ample flesh, grinned foolishly, "He'd love it if Emma got cooked. Then he wouldn't have to worry every night coming home!"
"Shut your filthy mouth! This mess is all your fault!" Feck said impatiently, still thinking about his door that needed replacing. The economy was already bad during wartime, prices were soaring, and where in the world would they find money to spare in their household?
Mitchell obediently shut his mouth. He had indeed heard a faint rumbling from the sea that night, but it wasn't a stormy night. Shortly before that, there were distant gunshots, which two patrolling officers on bicycles had also heard! Surely everyone didn't collectively hallucinate, right?
With no one speaking, the atmosphere became dull and sleepy. Feck's eyelids grew heavier and heavier, and before he knew it, he had fallen asleep sitting up...
At 5:07 in the morning, after a final burst of speed on the last stretch of road, Logan and his team finally arrived at Portsmouth Harbor. The sky was just starting to brighten, and there wasn't a soul in sight in the small harbor.
The armored vehicle slowed down, and Logan opened the hatch, sticking half his body out to take in a deep breath of the fresh sea air. After all, this wasn't wartime yet, so there was no need to worry about being targeted by enemy snipers, especially when he was wearing a conspicuous military police uniform.
"Go straight to the dock!" Logan could already see the navy blue in the distance.
The vehicle drove on the stone-paved road, and the sound of rubber tires hitting the gaps between the stones echoed. The entire harbor was as quiet as a graveyard. It wasn't until they turned the corner and the docks came into view that they saw two middle-aged men carrying buckets. It seemed they had made some gains overnight: despite the British government's warning to fishermen in the eastern and southern regions not to leave the ports without permission, some still went fishing at night to make ends meet.
These two men just glanced indifferently at the military vehicles passing by, especially when they saw Logan in his army uniform, they casually walked away as if they were bystanders.
Looking out over the entire dock area, four piers extended into the harbor with many ships moored. The number of fishing boats and yachts was roughly equal, and there were also some small barges and speedboats. The sight of masts aplenty was indeed picturesque, but what Logan was more concerned about was a dock where submarines could dock and where goods could be loaded and unloaded—all of which needed to be done before daybreak, otherwise it would be very complicated and troublesome if the residents of the harbor woke up and found a German submarine parked next to their dock!
Fortunately, the war not only had a huge impact on the fishing industry, but also led wealthy people living in the southern England to find ways to move to safer places. If it had been this time of year in previous years, the boats coming to vacation on the Isle of Wight would have crowded the ports, but now Logan could easily find some empty berths.
"Alright, that pier ahead. Don't drive the armored vehicle onto it!" To ensure that the driver could hear the order clearly, Logan shouted back into the vehicle.
In addition to the lead armored vehicle and the trailing truck, the two trucks in the middle were equipped with radar equipment obtained from Calverton. The armored vehicle took its place first, Private Leon took up the machine gun vigilantly, and little Scotty also brought two riflemen into position. Under the command of the temporary traffic officer Nim, the two trucks with equipment drove onto the dock. Technical officer Patrick Albert took out a wireless signaler the size of a telephone from his backpack. Although it couldn't be used as a radio, it was enough to send out special electromagnetic waves to summon friendly ships within a radius of ten miles. Of course, submarines couldn't receive radio waves underwater—at least not without using the periscope!
"Alright, ladies, we've arrived at Portsmouth Harbor. Please get off the vehicle!"
At Logan's call, the soldiers helped the three British girls off the truck. The reason Logan had them get off at the dock instead of entering the harbor was twofold: first, he didn't want to waste the already scarce time, second, he didn't think they would pose a threat, and finally, if something unexpected happened, these three could also be used as cover.
The ladies got off the truck carrying their small suitcases, and it was clear they weren't accustomed to the bumpy ride. "Aunt Susan's" chubby daughter's hair was tousled and her complexion was grayish. The two in the back of the truck looked even worse, their faces, whether lightly or heavily made up, were covered in dust.
"Oh, it's the harbor! Great!"
"Daisy," a name implying innocence, exclaimed naively, recalling her earlier action of lifting her skirt to show off her legs. Logan thought this was just one of the tricks teenage girls used to attract the opposite sex. As for her figure, he preferred slim, but bone-thin figures with no curves were not among his preferences; as for her voice, he liked soft, but not so soft that it made people feel weak.
Unfortunately, Miss Daisy struck out on both counts and was eliminated before the preliminaries.
"That's great, maybe we can find a hotel to rest for a while, and then Mom can come pick us up after she fixes the car!" Named "Madam" (a play on Donna's meaning), the daughter of "Susan Ma" did indeed have a wealthy appearance. Those who liked wealthy women could consider her, but Logan's growing ambitions were not something any woman could satisfy.
"Yes, Officer, when will you help us find a mechanic?" For Fei Wenli's beautiful niece, Logan finally responded politely, "You should go find a hotel first, I'll arrange something better for you!"
"Okay!" Doreen pouted and didn't say anything else.
Logan was definitely not an expert at guessing the opposite sex's psychology, but he still sensed a hint of embarrassment from Doreen's demeanor. Thinking to resolve the matter once and for all, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a £5 note, stuffing it into Doreen's hand. "Perhaps you forgot to bring money in the rush, here you go. No need to hurry to repay, we can settle it next time we meet."
The young British girl's lips curled up slightly, giving Logan a quite memorable playful smile. "Hmm, I'll definitely repay you next time we meet!"
Would there be a next time?