Two Sopwith Camels dropped out of the sky, and they had stopped the ship. Then a cruiser zeppelin appeared, and docked with the zeppelin Kirkholm.

Pushing his way past, the British Lieutenant and a squad of Marines bullied their way into the massive cargo holds. Massive cylinders of kerosene, natural gas, fuel, water, beer, brandy, whiskey, and carbonated sugar-water. Crates of tools, steel, iron, rubber hoses, rubber wheels, and hundred sof assorted solids. Grains, meats, and perishable foods were all stored in the next hangar.
Searching with bayonet, the British found everything except the weapondry.
"Nothing on here lads," a corporal spoke up. The sargeant in the other storage bay yelled the same.
Muttering under his breath, Lieutenant Pritchard shook his head. The dock-hand had distinctly remembered the man carrying out a couple rifles. Maybe he was shipping them to Talliin across the Gulf of Finland, where the Bolsheviks were holding out, hoping to one day overthrow the Tsar.

Johann watched the British cruiser zeppelin skirt away into the darkness.