![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
There was no chance of a direct route.
They were lucky -- in that winter of 1901, in time of war -- to find an airship making the Atlantic passage at all.
A little research into airship, steamer, and overland routes convinced Jack that it would be easiest to go by way of Köln out of the great port of New Amsterdam. And he did find an Italian dirigible bound back to Europe and away from the site of colonial squabbling with all haste -- which was a massive stroke of luck, and he didn't in the slightest mind spending Hanukkah, Christmas and the New Year aloft. He left the buying of the tickets to Lady Abigail Irene, who initially purchased passage for herself and her housekeeper Mary only as far as London, where the Andrea Doria would pause in its eastward journey for fuel and supplies.
She no longer had any obligations in New Amsterdam. She could be seen to be returning to England without arousing suspicion, and once the airship was enroute she could extend her ticket.
A day later, Jack arranged travel for himself and two others -- ostensibly his parents, in actuality Sebastien and Mrs. Smith, who had refused to be dissuaded from this adventure, no matter how harebrained -- on the same ship, but continuing on to San Marino. Thus, they would not seem to be travelling with Garrett and Mary until they took the train in Germany, and it would not be obvious in advance that all five intended to jump ship in Köln.
Jack saw next to no risk in this plan, but Jack was not Lady Abigail Irene Garrett, DCI, Th.D. As he glanced down the boarding platform to the spot where she stood with her maid and the little dog she carried in a basket, he could swear he saw her hands shake.
It was hard, for a woman such as her, to move from mere conspiracy to treason.
[OOC: NFB, NFI. Lightly adapted from New Amsterdam. Time in Jack’s world from this point out will move at the speed of plot -- that is, a canon scene a day, whether the scene covers five minutes or two weeks -- because doing it in real time would lead to three days of six posts each and that would make me cry.]
They were lucky -- in that winter of 1901, in time of war -- to find an airship making the Atlantic passage at all.
A little research into airship, steamer, and overland routes convinced Jack that it would be easiest to go by way of Köln out of the great port of New Amsterdam. And he did find an Italian dirigible bound back to Europe and away from the site of colonial squabbling with all haste -- which was a massive stroke of luck, and he didn't in the slightest mind spending Hanukkah, Christmas and the New Year aloft. He left the buying of the tickets to Lady Abigail Irene, who initially purchased passage for herself and her housekeeper Mary only as far as London, where the Andrea Doria would pause in its eastward journey for fuel and supplies.
She no longer had any obligations in New Amsterdam. She could be seen to be returning to England without arousing suspicion, and once the airship was enroute she could extend her ticket.
A day later, Jack arranged travel for himself and two others -- ostensibly his parents, in actuality Sebastien and Mrs. Smith, who had refused to be dissuaded from this adventure, no matter how harebrained -- on the same ship, but continuing on to San Marino. Thus, they would not seem to be travelling with Garrett and Mary until they took the train in Germany, and it would not be obvious in advance that all five intended to jump ship in Köln.
Jack saw next to no risk in this plan, but Jack was not Lady Abigail Irene Garrett, DCI, Th.D. As he glanced down the boarding platform to the spot where she stood with her maid and the little dog she carried in a basket, he could swear he saw her hands shake.
It was hard, for a woman such as her, to move from mere conspiracy to treason.
[OOC: NFB, NFI. Lightly adapted from New Amsterdam. Time in Jack’s world from this point out will move at the speed of plot -- that is, a canon scene a day, whether the scene covers five minutes or two weeks -- because doing it in real time would lead to three days of six posts each and that would make me cry.]
