It was well past nightfall as a man in a heavy coat wandered through the streets of one of the poorer districts of Kaapstad. Dim candlelights flickered in windows.
A few other people darted through the streets. Unlike the man in the heavy coat, the residents of the district where natives, and subject to the curfew that the state imposed. Nonetheless, the man also was in a hurry. Although being in this district at this time wasn't a crime, it was still very suspicious.
The man ducked into the yard of one of the houses. Its shutters were drawn, and for all the world that house seemed silent and empty. He glanced around, making sure that there were no guards around, and knocked. When prompted, he said "Ondaatje", and the door opened. He quickly stepped inside, and the door locked behind him. He was ushered into a windowless room at the center of the house, barely lit by small lanterns.
The man at the head of the table, almost completely engulfed in shadow, spoke.
"Captain De Vries, welcome. I do think everyone is present."
He leaned forwards, into the light.
A chill ran up De Vries's spine. The man before him was Henk Leeuwen, the leader of the local Radicalen cell. He was not a man to be trifled with, and De Vries knew that Leeuwen would have no trouble resorting to violence if he thought it was necessary.
De Vries reached into his coat and pulled out several sheets of parchment, filled with copies of orders and various information that the radicals were interested in. He handed the papers to one of the various lower officials and sat down.
A voice from a dark corner of the room said, in a tone with a hint of condescension "I told you he would succeed, Henk."
De Vries stared a bit, trying to see who it was that spoke with such familiarity to the leader of the Exercitiegenootschap Kaapstad.
"Oh, forgive me Captain, I forgot to introduce myself". The figure stepped forth into the light. "I am Rutger Jan Schimmelpenninck, former Grand Pensionary of the Batavian Republic."