Jon Merz - Raider X

“Herr Thatcher.”

Thatcher blinked and the image vanished, leaving him once more aboard Raider X on the deck. A cool breeze blew over him and Thatcher realized that he had actually started sweating as he’d relived the memory. He looked at Steinkopf and took a deep, shuddering breath.

“Yes. With a knife.”

Steinkopf stared at Thatcher. “I can see it still haunts you.”

“At night, mostly,” said Thatcher. “But it is as vivid today as it was when it actually happened.”

Steinkopf turned away. “We should go.”

“Yes,” said Thatcher. And he followed the young guard off the deck.

Thatcher didn’t see Schwarzwalder until well after dinner when Steinkopf knocked on the door to his cabin and informed him that the Captain was asking to see him. Thatcher followed Steinkopf who asked what Thatcher had thought of the dinner they had served today.

“The chicken was quite juicy. The potatoes could have used a bit more time boiling, I thought. But overall, quite good.”

Steinkopf nodded proudly. “The cook is one of the best. The Captain was able to procure him because of the nature of our work. Commerce raiders, like U-boats are able to requisition better crew and talent given the danger of our missions. The least they can do is give us a cook who can keep our spirits up when things take a turn for the worse.”

“Have they?” asked Thatcher.

Steinkopf just eyed him. “You tell me how things ought to be when five of your friends are brutally killed.”

“Point taken,” said Thatcher.

Steinkopf stayed silent for the rest of their journey until they reached Schwarzwalder’s cabin. He knocked twice and then opened the door for Thatcher to enter.

Schwarzwalder was perusing some file which he closed when Thatcher entered. “You’ve eaten?”

“I did,” said Thatcher. “I was informing Steinkopf that the cook is excellent and he told me that you were able to procure his talents.”

“Such as they are,” said Schwarzwalder with a smile. “We’re not as fancy as that ship the Archimedes that you cruised on, but we do all right. A good cook is invaluable to the morale of the crew.”

“Speaking of which,” said Thatcher. “You may have some problems in that department. Steinkopf mentioned that a lot of the men are a more than a bit upset at the nature of the killings.”

“They share the same frustration that I feel,” said Schwarzwalder with a grunt. “I’m not happy about them, either. As a Captain, it’s my job to bring my crew home after every cruise. I’m already down five men and we haven’t even started our official hunting just yet.” He glanced at Thatcher. “Taking the Archimedes, notwithstanding.”

“Noted,” said Thatcher. He pointed at a chair. “Do you mind?”

“Please.” Schwarzwalder moved his own chair to give Thatcher some room. Then the Captain let out a heavy sigh. “As I mentioned, I radioed Berlin and informed them of the situation. Both with Adamson and the recent killings.”

Thatcher nodded. “And I’m sure they were not happy.”

“An understatement to say the least. But they very much want to question Cyra so we’re being ordered to make for Tenerife where I’ll offload the woman and be done with her finally.”

“Tenerife?” Thatcher shook his head. “Never heard of it.”

“It’s part of the Canary Islands. A little more than three hundred kilometers off the coast of Africa. The Spanish own them, which is fortunate for us since they’re neutral to a point but they also owe Germany a great deal of money and have been known to help us quite a bit. We’ll find a friendly harbor when we arrive there. And I’m told the Gestapo have an outpost of sorts on the islands, so they can take ownership immediately and make plans to transfer her back to Berlin.”

Thatcher frowned. “What are the odds that the Gestapo had a unit in such a strange place?”

Schwarzwalder held up his hand. “I do my best not to ask any questions that I do not wish to know the answers to, especially when it comes to people like the SS and the Gestapo. It is better if my world does not intersect theirs as much as is humanly possible. I would prefer if it never did, but given the nature of these killings, I now find myself forced to put into port rather than continue on our trek into the Indian Ocean. Delays upset me and they upset my schedule. The sooner it is done, the better off I will feel.”

“Understood,” said Thatcher. “How soon until we reach Tenerife?”

“By my clock? Twenty four hours,” said Schwarzwalder. “And it can’t come soon enough. I want that woman off the ship.” He paused. “You know in the old days, they used to consider a woman on a boat as bad luck. I never put any sort of thought into it, but I’ll be damned if I don’t find myself wondering if there was any sort of wisdom to the notion in the first place, especially in light of what has happened.”

Thatcher smiled. “Superstition is one of those things a person can find a reason to believe in if they aren’t careful.”

“Indeed. But you must grant that it’s not as outlandish as you might have thought before all of this.”

“Indeed,” said Thatcher. “Although I would hope that there is nothing to it. It would certainly make cruising a thing of boredom were it not for the fairer sex aboard.”

Schwarzwalder frowned. “I’m a navy man. I can’t even imagine taking a cruise for pleasure of all things. My duty lies with my country and what I will do to help her win the war.”

“Then let us hope that your stay in Tenerife is a short one and that you proceed without any more issues on your way to the Indian Ocean.”

Schwarzwalder reached up and brought down the bottle of schnapps that he had produced the previous night. “Well, you said as much that you slept poorly last night. As did I. Let us hope another small drink won’t make it two nights in a row.” He poured a measure into two glasses and handed one to Thatcher. “ Prost! ”

Thatcher clinked his glass and drank the schnapps down immediately. It burned going down his throat but he relished the flavor of the strong drink. He put the glass back down on the small table and regarded Schwarzwalder. “There is that other matter we discussed.”

“Your matter,” said Schwarzwalder. “Yes. I have been thinking about that.”

“And?”

Schwarzwalder poured them both another drink and then leaned back, taking his time with this pour to savor it a bit more than he had the first time. “I think you should plan to slip over the side and vanish when we approach the port. There’s a portion of the channel that I think will be accessible and an easy swim ashore from the ship itself.”

“Sharks?”

Schwarzwalder shrugged. “The beasts are everywhere along this stretch of coastline and no doubt present around the islands as well. But they’re nowhere near as bad as they would be when we round the tip of the continent. I should think your chances are rather good, actually. Provided you swim quickly.”

Thatcher sighed. “Not exactly doing much for my confidence.”

“Better the sharks than the Gestapo,” said Schwarzwalder. “At least with the sea wolves, you’ll know the outcome once they take the first bite. I’d rather that then languish in some Gestapo prison being tortured nonstop.”

Thatcher frowned and sipped his drink. “Brilliant choices, the both of them.”

“Or you’re welcome to stay aboard and wait for the Gestapo to wonder why an American is here. No doubt they’ll have quite an extraordinary number of questions for you to answer and one would think that the time it would take to ask such a volume would preclude them from doing so on this ship, especially given the urgent need for us to be in the Indian Ocean.”