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The Intercept at Hut Six
The blackout curtains of Hut Six rattled in the raw autumn wind, but inside the narrow wooden room, the only light came from two green-shaded desk lamps. Audrey stared at the paper tape emerging from the teleprinter, her fingers smudged with purple carbon ink. Across the trestle table, Hugh sat massaging his bloodshot eyes over a stack of intercepted morning weather signals.
"Hugh, look at the preamble on this third intercept from Cherbourg," Audrey whispered, pushing the transcription slip toward him. "The operator repeated the same four-letter indicator twice before sending the weather grid. He ought to have changed the wheel setting after the midnight cipher reset."
Hugh adjusted his wire-rimmed spectacles and examined the pencil marks. "Operators get tired, Audrey, but we ought not to jump to hasty conclusions. If this