The Northwest Winds

Johann Basgord sipped the coffee, staring out across the open sky. He was about 6' 5'', with blue eyes and scuffled brown blond hair. He knew the calm clouds didn't betray the winds outside were harsh, nearly 20,000 feet above Northern Europe. The zeppelins could stand it. Massive aluminum girders held the skins of metal and cloth tight, and prevented the leakage of the hydrogen that the zeppelins flew on.

Out of Copenhagen, he was running grain, tools, steel, weapons, beer, and coal to Arkgard, Finland. Few traders ventured north of Helsinki, since the northern lands were harsh. Snows could strand the metallic ships on the ground, freezing fuel in the lines, and causing all kinds of havoc. Then the Northern Socialist Republic raided towns, keeping the towns on the their toes. Finland wasn't a place that many traders ventured to, and that was why Johann was. He went when most traders sailed northward, when the mud thickened into ground, and the town traders brought in the furs and pelts, timber and sap from the wilderness.

Finishing his coffee, Johann stepped down from the forward post, and casually walked down stairs and ladders till he was in the cupola. As Johann entered the cupola, brisk morning air circulated through the post, keeping men awake with the cold. That was why the mess-hall brought down tin cups an d kettles of coffee with brandy mixed in. Eggs were brought at 0700, with toasted bread slices.
About 0900, the southern end of Finland appeared. The zeppelin Kirkholm had already passed the islands of Finland, and to the right was the Gulf of Finland and the Russian city of Tallinn. Soaring above the land, Johann spoke to his navigator.
"Take her down 10 degrees, four points port and make for Helsinki."
"Aye, aye, Captain Johann" came the Norwegian accented reply.
The crew spoke Danish formally. Then informally some spoke Norwegian, Swedish, Finnish, Russian, German, and some spoke English. Johann spoke Finnish and English, since he traded across the Baltic and the North Sea.

After he docked outside Helsinki, Johann ordered his crew to fuel up, grab some coffee, and get ready for the ride to Arkgard. Few crews made the run, the Northwest Winds, the run to any city farthern north than Helsinki. Riding into town in a taxi, he stopped at the Finnish Commerce Commission building. One of the neo-classical buildings, massive Ionian pillars of granite, and the warm gas lamps inside. Stepping inside, the heat washed across his body, penetrating his leather jacket. Walking over to a desk, he awaited an offical who promptly appeared.
"Hello captain, what can the Finnish Commerce Commisssion do for you?" The officals bright question, and bright eyes didn't betray the impersonality of bureacracy.
"I'm requesting a Commerce Passport to Arkgard, and an armament approval for my zeppelin."
Shifting to a mask of steel, the Finnish offical stroked the short black mustache. The Finn was an average man of five feet ten, who was neither fat nor muscular. His eyes were black voids.
"A Commerce Passport I can give you, but an armament approval stamp, no."
"Why not, it's just going to be a couple Lewis machine guns, a few rifles, and ammunition!" Johann sounded hurt, pleading his case.
"No, the president has denied any trader north of Helsinki the right to carry weapondry."
"Why the hell did he do that?"
"The Socialist were having guns run northward, and the President declare, and I quote 'No trader, merchant, or captain that has not been contracted by the Finland Government, is allowed to carry weapondry on his vessel of trade.'"

Johann thought about the predicament. He could either bluff the official. However, his trading licsense would have to be stamped by the Finnish Government, and the official would un-doubtably ask. He could bribe the man, or smuggle weapons. The man wasn't the most coercive, so Johann settled with the Commerce Passport.
Leaving the building, Johann took a cab to the dock warehouses. Johann had a warehouse permit, and stored beer, grain, tools, ammunition, weapons, fuel, and almost everything else in his two warehouses. Taking a lorrie from the dock garage, he loaded on a couple packets of grain, a couple crates of tools, and a few drums of fuel. He then sold the fuel to the captains of the ships that sailed across the Baltic Sea. Taking the drums, he stored five Lewis machine guns, a thousand clips of ammo, and stored four crates of rifles and ammunition under the packets and crates. Driving north to the zeppelin base, he loaded the gear onto his ship and lifted off.

"You have no right, lieutenant Pritchard!" Johann yelled at the British officer.
"I have every right afforded to the British Navy, and the rights of the Finnish trade commission to search your ship."
"What the hell are you doing in Finnish air-space, working for the Finns?"
"The Finns are stopping all arms flowing northward, and I have recieved a wireless reporting suspicious activity with your shipments."

Johann stood before the British lieutenant, angered with the situation. It had turned night over Finland, and the zeppelin was on schedule. Then the British stopped his ship.