Read iron pirate Online

Authors: Unknown Author

iron pirate (24 page)

BOOK: iron pirate
2.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Hechler thought of the great battleship
Tirpitz,
confined in her Norwegian fjord while her fuel had been earmarked for the tanks on the Eastern front. Because of her inability to move, the British midget submarines had found and crippled her. It was unlikely she would ever move again. Hechler still believed that the pre    cious     fuel     would     have done far more good in
Tirpitz
's bunkers

than in a squadron of snow-bound tanks in Russia. She was the greatest warship ever designed. If she were here now, they could have taken on the troop convoy and destroyed it, no matter what escorts were thrown against them.

Leitner said, There is just such a convoy, two days behind the troopships. A fast one, of the very largest tankers.' He allowed his words to sink in as the pointer came to rest on the Persian Gulf. 'It was assembled here. Twelve big tankers. Think of them, gentlemen. The life-blood of an army!'

Then his tone became almost matter-of-fact, bored even, as he said, 'Except for any unforeseen factor there would be little chance of surprise. My information -' his gaze rested only lightly on Hechler '- is that the enemy has no idea where we are at present, nor how we are obtaining our own fuel supply.' He

nodded slowly. 'Planning, gentlemen - it far outpaces sentiment ,md outmoded strategy.' He jerked his head at his aide. 'Show

them.'

The pointer rested on a mere dot in the Atlantic, just northwest of Ascension Island.

Leitner watched their faces as they all craned forward. 'The island of St Jorge.'

Gudegast said, 'A rock, nothing more. Like a pinnacle sticking up from the ocean bed.'

Leitner gave him a thin smile. 'I shall ignore your scepticism. You are, after all, more used to trading your wares around the sea ports than practising the arts of war, eh?'

Gudegast flushed, but when he opened his mouth to retort,

Froebe touched his arm.

Hechler saw it, but doubted if anyone else had noticed the warning.

Leitner said, There is a Cable and Wireless station there which was built just before the outbreak of war.' His eyes flashed. Before we were forced as a nation to defend ourselves against British Imperialists and the dictates of Judaism!'

His aide said nervously, The wireless station has a powerful transmitter, more so even than those in the Falklands.'

Hechler asked, 'Shall we destroy it, sir?' He felt he had to say something, if only to snap the tension, to release his officers from being addressed like unreliable schoolboys.

'I spoke of
surprise.'
Leitner was very relaxed. Only the eyes gave away his triumph, the sense that he had them all in the palm ol his hand. 'Provided we are not detected or attacked by some untoward enemy vessel, I intend not to destroy that radio station, but to capture it!'

They all stared at each other, their incredulity giving way to surprised grins as Leitner explained, 'We will
fly
our landing party ahead. By this method the enemy will have no chance to warn their patrols and raise the alarm. Down here, in mid- Atlantic, it would be the last thing any sane man would be expecting.' He turned his lace very sharply to Hechler. 'What do you say?'

Hechler pictured the lonely Cable and Wireless station. An outpost in the middle of nowhere. No real loss to the enemy if some long-range U-boat surfaced and shot down the radio masts. But absolutely vital if they could signal the
Prinz
's whereabouts.

Hechler said, 'Capture it and make a false signal '

Leitner said, 'Yes. When - er, we are ready.'

He sounded irritated, disappointed perhaps that Hechler had not waited for a full explanation of his plan.

Hechler said, 'It is a wild chance.' He looked at Theil's blank face. 'And I think it might just work.'

What did it matter now anyway? Any risk, almost, was justified this far from base. Keep the enemy guessing, leave no set or mean track, and then they would continue to hold an advantage. A final confrontation could be avoided if their luck held out.

Leitner said, 'We will have another conference tomorrow.' He eyed them for a few seconds. 'Early. I will not abide laggards in this command!'

He swung on his heel and left the conning-tower.

Gudegast exclaimed, 'Aircraft? Better them than me!'

Theil crossed to Hechler's side. What do you really think?'

Hechler looked at the chart. If they failed to mount a surprise attack it would be an open invitation to every enemy squadron and patrol to converge on the tiny island of St Jorge. Hechler pictured the
Liibeck
as she must have been, heeling over, her guns silent while the enemy watched her final moments.

Suppose a signal was handed to him? The order to scuttle rather than meet an honourable fate; what should he do? What
could
he do?

He said, It is a daring plan, Viktor. It would mean leaving *    some    volunteers on the island. For them, the war would be over,

but we will cross that bridge when
we
come to it. After the war they might be heroes.' He watched for some sign of a smile or even disagreement. But Theil said fervently, For Germany.
Any
man would volunteer!'

'Perhaps.' He heard Gudegast give a snort of anger at something Froebe had said and when Theil turned to listen he watched his profile. Did he suspect, he wondered? Surely no man could love someone and not feel her anguish, her need?

For all their sakes, the ship had to come first. And yet, had he been informed earlier, when Leitner had not been aboard, would he have told Theil about his wife?

Suppose it had been Inger?

He saw the doctor making for the door and called, I want to talk to you.'

The doctor faced him warily. 'Sir?'

'Come to the bridge. I should like to ask you something.'

Theil watched them leave and ground his teeth. Thick as thieves, even after what had happened.

It was because of that girl. How could the captain behave so stupidly? Any officer, let alone one given command of a ship like this, had to be above such things. He stared after the others as they hurried away to their various departments. It was all so unfair.
I should have command here.
Perhaps it had all gone wrong a long time ago without his knowing? Britta may have said or done something indiscreet. It would go on his record, not hers.

He clenched his fists together until he felt sick with the realisa-I ion. It had been her fault. When the war was over, he would be overridden by younger men; he might even be discharged! He t bought of the friendly way Hechler had spoken to the doctor.

A new strength seemed to run through him. This was his chance to show Hechler, to prove to everyone what he could do, bow much he was worth.

Gudegast rolled up his chart and watched his superior grimly. What was the matter with everybody, he wondered, if they could not see that Theil was cracking up?

He glanced at his watch. He would work on his charts and then retire to his cabin. The painting was coming along well. He gave a great sigh. Gerda was probably fixed up with another man already. He grinned. The painting would have to do instead. But lor once he was unable to lift his apprehension.

Hechler felt the arm of his chair dig into his side, remain there, and then slowly withdraw as the ship swayed upright again. They had reduced speed to twelve knots and the
Prinz
was finding it uncomfortable. She was more used to slicing through every kind of sea with her cutaway Atlantic bow.

Despite the clear blue sky it was chilly on the open bridge after the heat of midday. The sun looked like a solid bronze orb, and was already laying a shimmering cloak down from the hard horizon line. Hechler turned up the collar of his watchcoat and saw his reflection in the glass screen. Hat tugged over his forehead, the old grey fisherman's sweater protruding through his heavy coat. Not everyone's idea of a naval officer, he thought.

A seaman handed him a mug of coffee and another to the doctor who had joined him, somewhat uneasily in that corner of the bridge. Hechler said, 'It will be another clear day tomorrow.'

'Is that good, sir?' He watched Hechler's strong profile. A face with character and determination. No wonder Erika Franke was so interested. She had not said as much, nor had he asked her directly, but Stroheim knew enough about women to recognise the signs.

Hechler sipped the coffee. It must have been reheated for a dozen watches, he thought. But it was better than nothing.

'It could make things easier for our pilots.' He thought of the girl in his bunk. It might have been Leitner's intention to send her with the others, perhaps with a film camera as her sole protection. She had at least been spared that. He thought too of his answer. Another clear day might also bring an unexpected ship or aircraft, detection and the beginning of a chase.

Hechler added abruptly, 'You were stupid to speak as you did in the wardroom. I should punish you, but -' He turned in the chair and glances at the doctor curiously.
But,
that word again.'

Stroheim smiled awkwardly. 'Perhaps I was wrong. I'm sorry. But I was angry at the time, incensed. Not that I could do anything.'

Hechler turned away to watch the horizon as it began to slope to the opposite side once more.
In another moment he will ask me what I think, if what he heard is true.

He said, 'You are a non-combatant, but out here you are at risk like the rest of us.'

Stroheim made himself look at the ocean and shivered despite his thick coat.

He would be glad when night fell. The ship became more dominant, invulnerable, just as his own quarters and sick-bay had become personal, an escape.

He watched the bronze reflection and knew he would never be at home on the sea. Up here, on one of the highest points in the ship, it was all the more obvious. A vast, shark-blue desert, endless in every direction, horizon to horizon, so that the great ship seemed to shrink to something frail and unprotected. He thought of Gudegast, a man he liked although the navigator fought off every kind of close contact. He was at home out here, could find his way as others might grope through a city fog.

A man of peace, no matter what he proclaimed openly. A true sailor, not a professional naval officer like Theil and most of the others. He glanced at Hechler again. And what about the captain? One who was not of any mould he knew. A loner, who accepted leadership without question.

Stroheim asked, 'Do you ever have doubts?' For a moment he thought he had gone too far, that the small contact was broken.

Hechler swung round in the chair, his eyes very blue in the strange light.

'Doubts? What do you think? You are the expert, surely!' He became calm again, angry perhaps that his guard had been penetrated so easily. 'My day is full of them. I must question the weather, my resources, the strength and weakness of every man aboard. The ship is like a chain. A weak link can cause disaster.'

He forced a smile. 'Satisfied?'

Stroheim grinned. 'I am glad you are in command. I hate the sea, but if I must be here, then so be it.'

Hechler did not look at him. 'You are a man of the World. While I have been at sea, learning my profession, you have seen and done many things. You must have found the war very difficult.'

Stroheim replied, '1 thought at first it was the end of life as I had known it. You on the other hand would have seen the war as a culmination of things, a suitable theatre to practise the arts of battle, to exercise all that training.' He looked at the captain's profile again. 'But I learned to live with it. People always need doctors.'

Hechler heard the bitterness. 'I know you were in trouble with the authorities.'

Stroheim grimaced. 'The whole world seems to know that.'

He recovered himself and added, But I am a good doctor, surgeon too. Otherwise I would be in field-grey on the Russian front instead of here on a cruiser.'

'You see, I am ignorant of that kind of life.' Hechler waved his hand over the screen. 'This is what I know best.'

Stroheim's eyes gleamed behind his gold-rimmed glasses. The captain was working round to something which was troubling him. He had experienced it many times, the patient in his plush consulting room, the roundabout approach to what was really the problem.

Heachler glanced round at the watchkeepers, familiar faces, men and boys who trusted him.

He lowered his voice. 1 knew someone who got into trouble, too. He was arrested, in fact.'

Stroheim held his breath. 'Easy enough to do.'

Hechler did not seem to hear. 'I was wondering, what sort of process does it involve?' He changed tack immediately. 'Here, in my command, justice is swift but I hope fair. I would never punish a sailor just to prove my authority. I am the captain, that is all the proof they need. The rest is up to me.'

Stroheim made himself look abeam where some large fish were leaping from the swell and flopping down again. He could feel Hechler watching him, could sense the importance of his casual questions. It depends on which security force is involved.'

Hechler said, 'Suppose it was at the top, the Gestapo. I mean, they have a job to do, but they must surely tread carefully too?'

Stroheim clenched his hands in his pockets. Gestapo. The
bottom,
he would describe them.

He said tightly, 'They are scum.' He felt the same recklessness as when he had spoken to Theil of the British broadcast. 'They are a machine for creating terror.' He faced Hechler suddenly and said, If your friend is in their hands, he can expect as much mercy as a heretic facing the Spanish Inquisition!' He turned away and stammered, 'I - I am sorry, sir, I had no right -'

He started as Hechler gripped his arm. 'Do not apologise. I asked for your help. You gave it.' He retained his grip until their eyes met. I have been in the dark.'

Feet clattered on ladders, and the watchkeepers shifted their bodies about, impatient to be relieved so that they could go below to their other world.

Stroheim flinched as Hechler said, 'I will not
ask
you this other question.' He tried to smile, but his eyes were very still and cold. 'You knew my wife. She had come to you for an abortion before, but this time you could not help.'

BOOK: iron pirate
2.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

The Rye Man by David Park
After Dark by Donna Hill
The Irish Scissor Sisters by Mick McCaffrey
Lost in Transmission by Wil McCarthy
Southern Seduction by Brenda Jernigan
Amanda Ashley by Deeper Than the Night
Full Court Press by Rose, Ashley