Jon Merz - Raider X

Schwarzwalder stroked his beard again, pondering. “So it’s possible she slipped out of your cabin, went to Adamson and killed him, before presumably returning to her own cabin.”

Thatcher nodded. “Entirely possible. I hate saying it, but I’d be a fool to rule out the possibility of her involvement.”

“I appreciate you sharing that information with me.”

“Will you interrogate her now?”

Schwarzwalder stood and smiled. “We are not the SS, thankfully. But I am well within my rights as the ship’s Captain to question her. If I find that she is not being honest, I can easily make arrangements to drop her off somewhere where she can be transported over to those jackals. And they will get what they need out of her. It may not be factual, but they will get something.”

“What if she’s innocent?”

“Then she has nothing to worry about while she is my custody. I appreciate honesty. But once I turn her over to the SS, her innocence becomes irrelevant. The SS only cares about producing results on paper. She could be the killer or she might not be: but once they get their claws on her, she becomes whatever fits their narrative and her arc within that particular story becomes regrettably a short one. Most likely they would torture her and then stand her up against a wall before putting a volley of bullets into whatever remains of her body.”

Thatcher frowned. “I would not wish that upon anyone.”

“Nor I,” said Schwarzwalder. “But such are the times we live in.” He shook Thatcher’s hand once more. “I appreciate all that you’ve shared with me. I will have dinner brought down immediately. I hope you find it palatable.”

Thatcher nodded. “Thank you, Captain.”

Schwarzwalder paused. “I meant what I said earlier.”

“About what?”

“The fact that we are not at war with America yet. I don’t consider you the enemy; you are merely a temporary guest aboard my ship.”

“Albeit confined,” said Thatcher.

“Schwarzwalder grinned. “For the moment perhaps. But that may change. I will let you know if it does. Eat and get some rest. I’m sure it’s a bit strange being taken prisoner and seeing the ship you were riding on blown apart.”

“It wasn’t my typical day,” said Thatcher. “But then again, I’ve sort of forgotten what normal was in recent years.”

“Then this is your new normal,” said Schwarzwalder. “I will strive to make it comfortable for you.” He ducked out of the cabin and Thatcher heard the door lock once more.

He kicked off his shoes and then lay back down on the bunk. It had been a struggle to keep the conversation going when his mind wanted to turn over all of the information he’d just learned about. Adamson a German spy! Who would have thought it possible? Certainly it wasn’t the impression Thatcher got when he’d met the man. But he could certainly see why this shipping route would be a valuable one. It gave the Germans a ready method of transporting passengers, material, equipment, and messages from a neutral staging country back to a prime theater of their operations. Thatcher knew the Abwehr was active in Britain, but this was a revelation any way you looked at it.

What were the chances that Hewitt knew about Adamson? That was the most pressing question that Thatcher had right at that moment. Hewitt hadn’t mentioned the man during Thatcher’s briefing, but perhaps he’d merely wanted to keep Thatcher fixated on the right stuff. There may not have been time enough to go into all of the details. Still, if he had suspected Adamson of being a German spy, one would think that the SOE man would have at least given Thatcher a heads-up about it.

Thatcher frowned. Then again, perhaps not.

The guard brought Thatcher a meal of schnitzel, roasted potatoes and carrots. Thatcher ignored the carrots but ate the rest of the meal and found it of decent quality for a war ship. He would have much preferred being back aboard the Archimedes and settling in for a three course meal complete with wine, but at least he wasn’t dead. As he polished off the remnants of the food, he he decided to adopt that as his motto from here on out: at least he wasn’t dead.

One could do a lot with that, he mused. It was a pretty decent thing, after all. No matter how bad things got or how much of a failure one might have thought they were, at least they weren’t dead. He wiped his mouth on the cloth napkin that had come with his tray, took a drink from the glass of water, and then leaned back at the small desk where he’d set himself up to eat, feeling relatively content.

He had to figure out how he was going to sabotage this vessel. Especially when he was confined to quarters for the moment and had an armed guard outside of his cabin. There would be no way he’d ever have the freedom to roam the ship and find out its weak points.

He also needed to know how soon the Loki was planning to offload the other prisoners it had taken from the Archimedes. Thatcher certainly would not move to blow the ship up while there were still lots of innocents aboard. The sabotage would have to come later.

In a way, he figured it was a good thing. If he did get any measure of freedom, then he would use the time to build up his trust with Schwarzwalder, hoping the Captain didn’t figure him for much of a threat. Get in his good graces and then see if an opportunity arose that Thatcher could exploit to his own ends.

He wondered if Hewitt was back in London tracking the progress of Raider X. He figured probably not, although by now he would know that the Archimedes was sunk. Thatcher sighed. All of this would have been so much easier if they could have simply had a few destroyers lay in wait and shell Raider X as she came out of port. Either that or a few bombing sorties could have finished her off as well.

But no, Hewitt had to insist that his sacrificial lamb could do the job with less risk. Lucky him.

There was a knock on the door and Thatcher looked up. “Come in.”

The door opened and his guard stood there. “Herr Thatcher, Mein Kapitan asks you to come with me.”

Thatcher stood and wiped his mouth once more. “Shall I leave this here?”

“ Ja .”

Thatcher nodded and followed the guard back out into the passageway. They retraced their steps but instead of heading for the bridge, the guard diverted and went up another flight of stairs that led to a new corridor Thatcher had never seen. He did his best to memorize every step he took. The day was waning quickly and it would be dark soon, he figured. Already there were lights on in parts of the ship. Thatcher wondered if dinner had been served to the crew yet. Or if any of the passengers from the Archimedes had been fed.

Outside of a door, the guard knocked once and then stepped back. Thatcher heard the call to enter and the guard opened the door and then stepped back and away allowing Thatcher to proceed.

Schwarzwalder’s cabin reflected the man’s discipline. It was sparse and without much in the way of decor, but somehow, it seemed to fit. There were no pictures of family, although the shelf running over the bed was filled with books on an array of topics.

Schwarzwalder stood and shook Thatcher’s hand. “Thank you for coming.”

Thatcher smiled. “I am a guest on your ship. One does not refuse an invitation.”

The Captain smiled. “Indeed. In any event, please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”

Thatcher looked around and saw a small chair so he sat in that. Schwarzwalder meanwhile brought out a small bottle and two small glasses. “Schnapps?”

Thatcher nodded. “A drink would be welcome.”

Schwarzwalder poured them each a measure and placed it in front of Thatcher before putting the bottle away. He hoisted his glass. “ Prost .”