Skype just isnt what it used to be....

[Straitsilver]

Silver sat at a table, a bowl of strawberry’s and cream t his side, his bag on one side of him. Dressed in grey BDUs with a skull and cross bones on the epaulettes. He began to pull items from his bag and places them on the table putting them together till they take the shape of a radio transmitter of some kind. He looks at his phone watching the time.

At precisely 21:00 he picked up the receiver and began talking into it. “Rattrap in affect, all is green go to broadcast distance and await my signal. To a utopian playland”
the response comes back from his crew exactly forty seconds later “02:00 Call sign is Starfire. The toymaker shall rise.”

silver sat there perfectly still waiting for the appointed time adjusting his radio set to the new frequency, rattrap being a code word in the code book that was held on his ship and on his person. It corresponded with a the next radio frequency and broadcast point. There were over five hundred code words and silver knew post of them off by heart now. And that was just the UK code book.

[Straitsilver]

The time has come. Silver leans over to the radio and picks up the receiver again. “This is silver to Utopia over? Come in please?” he injects urgency into his tone at his last words knowing he wont get a response for exactly fifty six seconds, but it seems like the longest pause in the world. During this time he continually forms small silver balls and has them orbiting the ceiling. The time counted down slowly and when it was through, as he knew it would the response came.

“All shiny captain we are ready to go when ready what’s the aim?” the voice of his first officer emanates from the radio set. Silver thinks for a moment, so many things he could do. The warship gave him an immense feeling of pride. And of power. “Id like you to relay for me please. To division 13 headquarters”

“Who ever is there...I hope its not true what they are saying on the news...but I am cutting my stay short and I am leaving here on the next high tide, expect me in two weeks.” pauses for a moment knowing his message cant be long over such a long range in case it is tracked “To a utopian play-land.” the message ends there and he puts the receiver down and trudges to bed. “I miss skype...”