Lt. Jack Carson, of military intelligence, straightened his uniform before going into the Captain's office.  He was a tall, muscular man with broad shoulders and a lantern jaw.  His thick brown hair was cropped short in military fashion and his spectacles glinted in the dim light of headquarters.<br/><br/>Headquarters was an underground barracks near London.  From here they could see the bombing of the city herself, but were safe from attack.  The base was camouflaged against the bombers' nightly raids.  It was not life on the front lines, like some of those poor dough boys, but it was still austere.<br/><br/>Jack a Welshman from Cardiff and had grown up in a household with five women, besides his father.  Father was a constable, and it was expected that Jack would follow in his footsteps.  Jack had other plans, and had been the first in his family to attend university.  He had just graduated when the war started, and it had interrupted his plans to go onto graduate studies in history.<br/><br/>Stepping into the office, he found himself in front of Captain Hendricks himself.  Hendricks was a thin, older man with a pencil mustache and thinning hair.  He sat straight up.  "Good, your arrived Carson."<br/><br/>"Sir!"  Jack saluted.<br/><br/>What followed was a short meeting.  He was to infiltrate enemy lines, inside occupied France, via a night time parachute drop.  He was to locate and if needed rescue a professor Herbert Rosebaum, a Jewish inventor who the Nazi's were rumored to be holding.  The professor possessed powerful information which would be damaging in enemy hands, as well as the potential ability to create devastating new weapons.  He and his daughter had been rumored to have been captured.<br/><br/>Before the war the professor had been working on ways to harness the primal elements themselves, to shape them and mold them with one's mind.  His research had been scoffed at by many, but the Nazis were taking him seriously, so the British government had to as well.  After all, the stories could be true.<br/><br/>He would rendezvous with a member of the French resistance, at the drop sit.  She would join him in his mission.  He was skeptical about the usefulness of a dame on a mission, but orders were orders.<br/><br/>The plane ride was choppy as the story sky tossed it around.  Jack, dressed now as a civilian, held onto his stomach and hoped for the best.  There very well might be shot down at any time.  A few minutes later he found himself over France, falling toward the Earth.  He deployed his black parachute and drifted down into the courtyard of a small farm.