Jon Merz - Raider X

“ Prost ,” said Thatcher. He drank the schnapps and found it was peppermint, which happened to be his favorite. He felt the pleasant burn of the liquor as it sank down his throat. Then he put the glass back down and smiled. “Excellent.”

“I get it from a small distillery,” said Schwarzwalder. “They make only several hundred bottles each year. But I would not put to sea without a store of it in my possession. It makes the cold nights pass much easier, especially when one is away from friends and family.”

Thatcher tasted the peppermint and smiled. “I could see how it would. It tastes like Christmas.”

“Indeed,” said Schwarzwalder. He clapped his hands. “In any event, I did not ask you here to debate the merits of my schnapps.”

“All right.”

“I spoke with Cyra shortly after I spoke with you this afternoon.” Schwarzwalder sighed. “I must admit that my conversation with her was not nearly as enjoyable as yours. She was reluctant to speak with me and did not give up much in the way of information.”

“That is unfortunate,” said Thatcher. “I don’t know why she would be so recalcitrant.”

“Nor I,” said Schwarzwalder. “I was quite accommodating to her, but I must admit that her unwillingness to speak with me has me wondering if she is indeed the murderer. And if so, then I must take steps to transfer her to the proper authorities.”

Thatcher frowned. “The SS.”

Schwarzwalder sighed. “I have no wish to do so, but the murder of a German Abwehr agent demands that the culprit be found and turned over for prosecution, as you can well imagine.”

Thatcher smirked. “No offense, Captain Schwarzwalder, but we both know the SS will not prosecute Cyra if she is indeed the killer. They will torture her first and then shoot her.”

“Undoubtedly,” said Schwarzwalder. “And I have no desire to see any Gestapo aboard my vessel, but this puts me in a very delicate situation. As captain, I am required to report anything untoward to the High Command. My executive officer is equally required to do so, that is how we are a checks-and-balance system. And I know that my XO will report all of the things we found aboard the Archimedes. Including the deceased body of Adamson. Once word gets back that he was Abwehr, they will demand an investigation. And I will be forced to put my thoughts in writing and transmit them. They will find about you and they will find out about Miss Dumiere. At that point, I will be most likely advised to put into port and await a team from the Gestapo who will assume command of the investigation. Any authority I have will be superseded at that point rendering me rather impotent, I’m afraid. Therefore it is in my best interests to solve this crime myself and wrap it up with a… Christmas bow, shall we say?”

“All right,” said Thatcher.

“All of which would be immensely easier for me to accomplish, if I could simply get your companion to speak with me. But she shows no signs of wanting to cooperate and I worry that the longer this goes on for, the less room to maneuver I will have. Do you understand?”

Thatcher nodded. “I do. But I still am not quite sure what you want me to do.”

“I want you to talk to Cyra. I want you to find out what she knows and report back to me. Let me know if you think that she may, in fact, be the one who killed Adamson.”

“And if she is?”

Schwarzwalder sighed but set a steady gaze on Thatcher. “Well, you tell me: would you rather cover up for her and risk the wrath of the Gestapo? Or would you see a criminal be held to account for their crimes?”

“You’re asking a hard question,” said Thatcher. “And it’s one that I’m not really confidently able to answer at the moment.”

“We are in war,” said Schwarzwalder. “I’m afraid that there are almost never any easy questions. We either figure out a way to get Cyra to talk and give up any information that she may have. Or else I will be forced to turn her over to the Gestapo at the next port we can put in at.”

“That would be unfortunate,” said Thatcher.

Schwarzwalder nodded. “Indeed it would. Because knowing the Gestapo as I do, they would also take you.”

Aknock on the door interrupted their conversation. Schwarzwalder called out for the guard to enter and he did. He leaned over and whispered something in the Captain’s ear. Schwarzwalder grunted and dismissed the guard. Then the Captain looked back at Thatcher.

“The ship that will take the rest of the passengers is off our port side. It’s time to begin the transfer procedure so we can be free to get on with our mission.”

“How long will it take to transfer them?”

Schwarzwalder shrugged. “An hour, no more. There are not that many left from the Archimedes, so barring any unforeseen circumstances, it should move along rather quickly. I am in a hurry to resume our course south toward the Cape of Good Hope anyway. With the Führer demanding a certain amount of tonnage sunk, we are well underway now that the Archimedes has been sunk, but that does not mean we can afford to relax.”

“A question,” said Thatcher.

“Yes?”

“Why, if Adamson was a spy for the Abwehr, would you go about raiding his vessel? And if so, why would you then scuttle it?”

Schwarzwalder smiled. “We had hoped to help Adamson further secure his status by attacking his ship. Our orders were to attack the Archimedes and establish contact with Adamson. After doing so, I would have a conversation with him and then later transfer them all back to a neutral country. Adamson would return home eventually but with his status immune from suspicion.”

“Berlin thought that would help him?”

Schwarzwalder shrugged. “The thing about spies is they are always under suspicion. I was told that Adamson was no different and that despite his best efforts, he felt as though there had been added scrutiny upon him lately.”

Thatcher frowned. “If that is true then it opens up a larger list of potential killers, does it not?”

“I don’t know,” said Schwarzwalder. “Frankly, I see but one possibility. And that is the woman I want you to have a conversation with.” He stood and walked to the door. “When you are ready to do so, ask the guard to accompany you to her cabin. I’ll give you the next few hours, but beyond that, I must report in with Berlin about the Archimedes. I would delay if possible, but such things are not tolerated. I’m sure you understand.”

Thatcher stood. “Very well.”

“I will see to the other passengers. Good luck.” He knocked on the door and it opened again. The guard stood waiting for Thatcher to exit and then guided him back to his cabin before locking him back inside.

Thatcher walked back and forth across his cabin, stopping to look out of the porthole. The light from the Loki illuminated the sea around them and Thatcher could see the approaching ship jockeying for position alongside. Thatcher turned away from the porthole. His main concern now was trying to convey to Cyra the necessity of answering his questions honestly.

Was she even the killer? If she’d been sent by London to kill Adamson for being a Nazi spy, then why the hell hadn’t Hewitt told him about it? Was he the backup in case Cyra failed? Did they expect that Adamson would have been taken captive? Would he have been aboard Raider X when Thatcher sabotaged it? If so, what guarantee would they have that Adamson would or would not be killed?

None.

It didn’t make sense, thought Thatcher. None at all. Thatcher intended to scuttle Raider X as soon as possible but not without having some means of making sure he didn’t go down with the damned ship. But if he was supposed to scuttle it with Adamson aboard, he would have had no way of knowing that he was saving a spy.