Flooney Island 1940

Colonel

Years later, Andreas couldn't help but sigh at the whims of fate when he recalled his first encounter with Chazo. On the evening of May 20, 1940, with the sky ablaze with the glow of sunset, he seemed to walk in with the sunset, bringing the moist sea breeze and a swath of brilliant starlight.

The astute major realized in an instant that he was not Leon Cohen. In a moment, his gun was loaded.

"Chazo! Leon is back!" Fiona exclaimed excitedly, seeing a daunting coldness in her brother's eyes. Turning around, she found Andreas had already disappeared.

"Leon?" She inquired curiously, noticing a piece of clothing peeking from the bedroom door, and the Luger P08 on the dressing table had vanished.

"He's not Leon, Fiona, listen to me," Chazo said soothingly, his gaze softening as he looked at Fiona, "Walk over slowly, find somewhere to take cover."

"No, how is he not Leon? He called out my name as soon as he saw me. Chazo, he is Leon."

Fiona argued, her cheeks flushed, unable to accept the shattering of her romantic dreams. Chazo's eyes trembled slightly, but he still trusted his instincts.

"Fiona, look, he's holding a gun now. Would Leon point a gun at me? Come here, obey," Chazo said, keeping his eyes fixed on the bedroom door, paused, then addressed the silent Andreas, "Who are you? Answer in three seconds, or I'll shoot."

The colonel remained silent, then countered, "Who are you?"

Chazo chuckled coldly, "Fair enough, it’s polite to introduce oneself before asking others. I am Major Chazo Rilke, of the French Second Army Combat Corps. Your turn, sir, are you French or British?"

Major Rilke was about to hear the answer he least wanted because the colonel had always been sincere, or rather, proud.

"I am Colonel Andreas von Hinze."

The surname, laden with unmistakably strong German connotations, surprised Fiona and Chazo, widening their eyes. But compared to Fiona's horror, Chazo quickly regained his composure, swiftly aimed, and fired without hesitation.

Whoosh! The bullet whistled past, grazing Andreas's arm, drawing a streak of blood.

Andreas spun around rapidly, retaliating in an instant, his shot precise!

Chazo couldn't dodge in time, grunted as he was hit in the shoulder. He rolled on the ground, flipping several times, and took cover behind a cupboard before firing again at Andreas. Excellent marksmanship! Andreas internally praised, though not a match for him, it was commendable. But now, this had become his hunting ground. He was recognized as a sharpshooter during his military academy days, even considered a prodigy by the entire high seas navy.

He observed the living room situation from the dressing table mirror and planned a perfect trajectory. He noticed a smooth copper mask on the wall to the left front of Chazo, seemingly an art piece. It was insignificant now, for it would serve as an auxiliary weapon to kill Chazo.

Here! Andreas pulled the trigger aimed at the mask.

"Chazo!" Fiona, who had been crouching nearby, spotted Andreas's intent and leaped from behind the couch towards Chazo, just in time.

"Fiona!" The major exclaimed as he saw the bullet pierce the girl's heart from behind.

Fiona trembled, a trickle of blood seeping from her lips, "Chazo, I won't wait for Leon anymore... I, I miss him so much..."

Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she closed her beautiful eyes forever in her brother's arms.

Chazo looked incredulously at the deceased girl, tears welling up instantly. He wished to stand and fight to the death with that man. But he knew he couldn’t! Not now! He mustn't die; he had to inform his troop that a formidable German soldier had arrived on the island! And he had fallen into the meticulously planned trap they had set with Bletchley Park, known as the "Lion of the Seas," the captain of the Castellin battleship cruiser!

The major couldn't believe that this low-profile captain resembled his friend and had survived and reached his island. He questioned why God would favor such a demon. Consumed with sorrow and hatred, Chazo felt it overflow from his eyes.

No... a more terrifying thought crossed his mind. If he wasn't the only one who had survived... Chazo's heart raced, his mind spinning rapidly.

In the bedroom, Andreas's expression was somber. Seeing Fiona's final moments, he couldn't help but tremble slightly. But he quickly composed himself, thinking ahead. There might be other French troops outside, and the indoor battle would inevitably attract them. Or perhaps, this major had indeed come alone.

He had to choose: kill the major before leaving or quickly escape through the bedroom window. That was his dilemma.

He weighed the Luger P08 in his hand, with only one bullet left.

He glanced outside; the major was glaring at him, teeth clenched in hatred. Andreas paused, momentarily stunned by the intensity in his eyes. Unlike the French soldiers he despised, this man's fighting spirit was like a fierce lion. He thought he would make a fine opponent, and for some reason, he suddenly couldn't bear to kill him.

Maybe he wasn't completely confident in his last bullet. Andreas felt a heavy heart, grabbed a chair, and threw it outside, rushing towards the window and breaking through it before the gunshot sounded.

Chazo heard the breaking window, waited a moment, and the cabin fell silent. He sighed, wanted to cover his wounded shoulder, but couldn’t bear to let go of Fiona. He took a deep breath, bent down, and gently kissed the girl's forehead, laying her gently on the ground.

"Fiona, sorry." He tenderly touched the girl's cheek, struggled to his feet, and walked to the cabinet beside the couch. He picked up the handset and dialed the phone.

"Joy, it's me, Chazo Rilke." The major took a deep breath, trying to sound as calm as possible, "The Germans are on the island, we've been exposed."

He heard the other end inhale sharply.

"Listen, Joy, the opponent is very strong, and the number is uncertain. The priority now is," he paused, seeming to struggle, then said through gritted teeth, "Destroy all the documents, and that thing."

There was silence for a few seconds on the other end, obviously trying to steady their emotions, then asked, "Are you sure? Major?"

"Positive! It's our biggest secret, maybe, we'll all perish on this island, but before death, we must destroy the deciphering machine."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm coming right now, get everyone ready for battle!"

Chazo hung up, confident that Captain Joy Reiser would gather the personnel to start the destruction immediately. The upgraded version of the Bombe machine they got from Bletchley Park, obtained with the lives of dozens of people, had painstakingly decrypted the

Yet, the lion's vitality was terrifyingly strong, and it had come to his den. The major's face was somber, he took one last deep look at Fiona, clenched his teeth, and left.

When the dark night faded, and the clear morning light descended on the island, the two French soldiers on routine patrol were unaware that in the dense forest behind them, a stern gaze was fixed on them.

PS: Bletchley Park, the place in the UK where codes were deciphered during World War II, breaking the Enigma machine's codes

Andreas effortlessly overpowered the two patrolling soldiers, confirming once again the laxity of the French military's guard. He had long been grateful for being in the navy, facing formidable opponents like the Imperial Royal Navy rather than the ineffectual French Army. Engaging in such unchallenging battles brought him no sense of achievement; he preferred the thrill of facing tougher challenges, like the Polish.

Dressed in the captured French military uniform and armed with their weapons, the colonel stood up and meticulously examined the footprints on the forest floor, traces routinely made by the patrolling soldiers. He then slipped back into the dense woods, stealthily following the trail deeper into the island.

The three-story building, painted in a yellow-green hue blending with the surrounding environment, was hidden behind a row of palm trees. A DK5 military truck was parked in the yard, guarded seemingly inadequately by just two soldiers at the gate. Andreas halted at a distance, taking cover behind a thick tree trunk, patiently waiting.

"Major," Captain Joy Reiser swallowed nervously, his hands trembling with the gun, "Is it truly the 'Lion of the Seas'?"

On the second floor of the French Army's intelligence headquarters on Funy Island, several female officers, under Chazo's command, were methodically destroying documents and files.

"Yes, Joy, he's arrogant. His confidence when revealing his identity assured me it's him. Our brief encounter showed me he's a formidable enemy, even terrifying. He won't fall for the same trap twice, but it's worth our attempt."

Captain Joy Reiser, observing Major Rilke's injured shoulder and his pale face, realized the truth in his words. Anyone capable of harming Major Rilke so swiftly must indeed be a fearsome adversary. Now, the captain thought, with much of the island's armed forces already withdrawn and the defenses significantly weakened, they still might stand a chance under Major Rilke's strategic command.

At that moment, a dozen guards lay in ambush on the first floor, creating an illusion of vulnerability at the entrance that could invite an attack at any moment. Should the enemy be complacent, the multiple gun muzzles stationed there would not hesitate to unleash their firepower.

Let me now refine this translation to ensure it aligns smoothly with English linguistic norms while retaining the original message's essence.

Andreas subdued the two patrolling soldiers with ease, a testament to the perennial laxity of the French military's defenses. He had always been relieved to be in the navy, facing formidable adversaries like the Imperial Royal Navy, rather than the ineffectual French Army. Battles against such feeble opponents offered no sense of accomplishment; he much preferred the challenge of engaging with tougher adversaries, such as the Polish.

After incapacitating the soldiers, the colonel donned their French military uniforms and confiscated their weapons. He stood up, carefully examined the footprints trodden into the forest floor—marks of the patrol's routine passage—and then stealthily re-entered the dense woods, following the tracks that led deeper into the island.