iron pirate (36 page)

It had to be that. But just because it had never been done before, nobody, not even Duffield's back-room boys had even suspected it.

God, the enemy must have been planning all this for months, and everything, even the RAF's recce reports over the Norwegian fjords, had been fooled by one ruse after another.

The door opened. 'I've brought you your shavin' gear, sir.' The steward showed his teeth.' Ad afeelin' you might be askin' for it.'

Hemrose stared at himself in the mirror. He could still be wrong. There was nothing really solid to go on. But it was all he had. They would go right through every report and signal. If they found nothing they would do it all over again until they did.

Nobody had really considered submarines before. The Admiralty and intelligence sources had concentrated on checking lists of so-called neutrals, especially those in South American ports, where a supply ship might have been waiting for a rendezvous.

Later in the chart-room Hemrose explained his thoughts on the raider's performance.

'Hechler had that convoy on a plate. He'd knocked out the escort, and picked off the first tankers like fish in a barrel. But for the old AMC he would have polished off the whole boiling lot.'

The young navigating officer said, 'If he's damaged, he'll also need fuel.'

Hemrose nodded. 'Good thinking. When his bunkers are topped up he'll make for safe waters again - my guess is Norway.' He added grudgingly, 'Even with the Home Fleet and Force M on the alert he's the sort of captain who might just pull it off. If he sails safely into port after cutting our blockade in both directions he would do far more good for German morale at home than by wiping out that convoy.'

Godson said, 'The Germans have been using the big supply submarines in the South Atlantic for two years, I believe.'

Hemrose waited silently, seeing his hazy ideas forming into a possibility on their faces.

The first lieutenant said, 'They work to a grid system, don't they?'

Hemrose smiled. 'Check all the U-boat reports in that area, ours and the Yanks.'

Hemrose rocked back on his heels. He was already heading into disaster, so where might this additional risk take him?

'Then make a signal to
Pallas
and
Rhodesia.
I'd like to see the captains before we begin.'

Godson wilted under his stare but asked, 'And Admiralty, sir?'

'Balls to their lordships, Toby! I was given this job and I intend to see it through!' He glanced at the chaplain. 'And thanks to our warlike padre here, I think we may be on the home stretch!'

Hemrose walked out into the daylight and lifted his face to the rain.

It was hard to accept that within two hours he had risen from despair to optimism.

As he passed the forward funnel he saw the ship's crest bolted to a catwalk. Beneath it was her motto in Latin. Hemrose's red face split into a grin so that two Oerlikon gunners peered down with astonishment to watch him.

Translated, their motto was
Count your blessings.

It was not much, but it was a start.

Leitner looked up from his littered desk and eyed Hechler for several seconds.

'You wish to see me?'

Hechler nodded. He wondered how Leitner could leave the upper bridge to spend time in his spacious quarters. The cabin was unusually chaotic, with clothes strewn about, and a lifejacket hanging on the door.

Hechler said, 'We have just buried the men who were killed, sir.'

Leitner pouted. 'Yes. I felt the ship slow down.' Some of the old edge returned to his tone. 'Not that she's exactly a greyhound of the ocean at the moment!'

'The engine-room expects the pumps will all be working at full pressure soon. ' They had said that yesterday, but this time Stuck seemed quite confident. 'It's B turret that worries me.'

You?
WorryT
Leitner put down his pen and regarded him calmly. 'After their performance with the convoy I'd have thought the whole gunnery team should be
worried!'

It was pointless to argue, to explain that the single shell from the
Tasmania
had been a fluke shot. Anyway, Leitner seemed so preoccupied he would only have challenged that too.

Hechler said, 'The rendezvous with the supply-boat, sir. I am having second thoughts. At this reduced speed we will meet the milch-cow on her final day in the prescribed grid. After that we may not find the time to refuel before we turn for home.'

'I had considered that, Dieter.' The sudden use of his name was also unexpected. 'But we still stick to our plans. I intend to transfer the camera team to the submarine. They can make their own arrangements when she reaches Germany.' He sounded vague, almost disinterested.

'And the woman pilot?'

Leitner gave a small smile. 'Ah, yes. The lovely Erika. I am afraid she has not earned
her
release just yet.' He dragged a chart from beneath a pile of papers. 'The rendezvous is here, right?'

Hechler bent over the desk. Why go over it again? All he could see were the lines of flag-covered bodies, the rain sheeting down while he had read the burial service. Then the signal to the bridge to reduce speed, the last volley of shots, and the sea-men rolling up the empty flags for the next time. Faces and groups lingered in his mind, like little cameos of war itself. A young seaman wiping his eyes with his sleeve and trying not to show his grief at the loss of a friend. The camera crew filming the funeral, a petty officer staring at them, his eyes filled with hatred and disgust. Leitner should have been there. It was the least he could do. And he had seen the girl too, her coat collar turned up as she had gripped a stanchion below two manned anti-aircraft guns and watched him, listening to his words as he had saluted, and the pathetic bundles had splashed over the side.

Hechler had been kept busy with hardly a break. Now, in the sealed cabin it dosed in like a blanket. He was dog-tired at a time when he needed to be at full alert.

Somewhere overhead one of the Arados was testing its engine.

They were off the shipping lanes, and as far as Bauer's telegraphists had been able to determine, all enemy forces had been directed either to the convoy or further north. OKM Operations Division had been silent. It was as if the
Prinz Luitpold
had already been written off as a casualty, left to her own resources.

Hechler closed his fingers. One more cargo of fuel and he would be able to assess their immediate future. If they avoided the enemy Kroll and his artificers would repair the turret's training mechanism. Otherwise all their main defences would be down aft.

Leitner did not look up from the chart, and some of his sleek hair fell forward like a loose quill. It was so unlike him that Hechler wondered if the last engagement had broken his faith.

Leitner was saying, 'Now about my boxes, hmm?'

Hechler thought of the petty officer who was still trapped. The damage control section had told him that the door was buckled, and it would have to be cut away with torches. There was an air vent, so the luckless Hammer was in no danger. Yet.

'They are working on the door, sir.'

Leitner did not seem to. hear. That man had a key. He must have stolen it or made it. He is a thief, a menace to this ship, a traitor. I intend that he shall stand trial as soon as he is freed.' He raised his eyes suddenly. I
want that door open.'
His eyes hardened. 'It can be done,
yes
or
no?
He swung round. 'What now?'

Theil stood in the entrance, his cap dripping with rain.

'The door won't move, sir. The engine-room is supplying some heavier cutting gear

Leitner screamed at him, 'Don't come here with your snivelling excuses! I want the door forced open immediately! Blow it down with a limited explosion!'

Hechler stepped between them. 'It could kill Hammer, sir. In such a confined space -'

Leitner glared at him wildly. 'It will save him from the firing squad! He was spying on me, and he's not the only one! Must I repeat everything? Blow it open!'

Theil looked at Hechler, his face pleading. 'He's one of my men!'

Leitner was breathing hard. 'I have no doubt of that!'

Theil faced him. 'What exactly do you mean, sir?'

Leitner stared at him, astonished. 'Are you questioning me or my orders?'

Hechler snapped, 'I would like to remind both of you that we are in some danger.' To Theil he added, 'Wait outside. I'll deal with this matter.' As the door closed he said, How dare you accuse my officers of plotting against you?' He could not stop himself. 'You are supposed to offer leadership to this ship's company, not act like some sort of god!'

Leitner's jaw hung open. It was as if Hechler had struck him, or screamed some terrible curse.

Hechler continued flatly, 'I intend to fight this ship back to Germany, and to do that I need the trust of every man aboard. Respect, not fear,
sir,
is what we survive on. He watched him coldly. 'Or we go under.'

Leitner dragged out a spotless handkerchief and slowly dabbed his lips.

'So that is your attitude?'

'It is.'

He waited, half expecting Leitner to call to the sentry and put him under arrest. A Luger lay on the table nearby. He might

even drag that out and shoot him in his present unstable mood.

Leitner nodded jerkily. 'I shall remember this. Now get that door open and have that man arrested.'

Hechler stepped away from the table. Leitner had again become very calm. It was unnerving.

Leitner continued, 'Let me know when you are increasing speed to this rendezvous.' He was pointing at the chart, but his fingers were nowhere near the pencilled position. 'I shall be receiving the final instructions shortly. When I do He looked away.
'Leave me'

Hechler stepped out of the cabin and found Theil waiting.

'You think I knew, don't you?'

Theil gaped at him. 'I - I don't understand.'

You love this ship, Viktor. I know that. In a matter of days, maybe hours, we shall be called on to fight, against odds. I shall need your loyalty then, and so will the
Prinz.'

He looked away, unable to watch Theil's despair as he said brokenly, 'She was arrested by the Gestapo. I was not told. The house was empty.' The words were spilling from him in a torrent. If I hadn't read that file -'

Hechler said gently, 'It was too late to do anything when I found out about it. We were under enforced radio silence, you know that. It may not be as bad as you think -' Their eyes met and he knew it was pointless to go on. Even if the Gestapo had made a mistake, it was unlikely they would admit it. What was one more life to them?

Millions had perished. He thought of the unknown hand on the morse key at St Jorge, the men he had buried, the petty officer who had died without a mark on him. He looked around at the grey steel. They could still break through. He touched Theil's arm and this time he did not drag away. It was already too late for him.

I am the captain of this ship, Viktor, and many people probably think I am too remote, too secure to watch minor events under my command. But I have seen and heard things. I will not allow this ship's reputation to be smeared.' His eyes were hard. By anyone.'

Theil touched his cap. I'll do what I can.' He swallowed hard. 'I wasn't certain - I -'

Hechler walked out to the open deck; it was like sharing a terrible secret to see the tears running down Theil's cheeks. He felt suddenly sickened by it. By Leitner's inconsistent behaviour, his malice and his instability. But more by his own uncertainty. Like a man who has been given a weapon he suspects is faulty.

'You walk alone, Dieter?'

She stepped from beneath the same gun-mounting, her cheeks glowing from wind and rain.

He faced her and wanted to fold her in his arms, forget everything but this moment.

'I need to talk, Erika.' He knew some of the seamen were watching him. It was like a farewell at a railway station. Alone within a crowd. No words until it was too late to utter them.

'I know.' She gripped his arm. 'I was afraid.' She shook her head so that her damp hair bounced on the fur collar. 'No, not of war, of the fighting and the dying. But afterwards. I thought you might think it was a momentary lapse, a need which we both shared, but only for a moment.' She gripped him more tightly. 'I want you for myself.'

He smiled down at her, the other faces and figures fading into distance. 'I shall never give you up.' He turned as a messenger bustled up to them and saluted. 'From the bridge, sir. The engine-room can give full speed now.' His eyes flickered between them.

'Tell the bridge to wait. I am coming up.' He looked at the girl's eyes, hung on to what he saw, needing her to believe him, to trust him, no matter what happened.

He said, 'I love you, Erika.' Then he stepped back and saw the way she lifted her chin. It was as if they had both found a strength they had not previously recognised.

As he vanished up the ladder to the forebridge she whispered aloud, 'And I you, dearest of men.'

The deck began to tremble and she watched the wash rise up alongside as once again the bows smashed into the sea as if they despised it. She walked slowly below the high bridge structure and saw the black hole where the shell had plunged through to explode between decks. It was all so unreal to see and feel the enemy right here amongst them. She thought of Hechler's features as he had read the burial service, his strong voice raised above the laboured roar of fans, and the hiss of rain across the armour plating. She smiled sadly.
The iron pirate.
She could not see more than a day ahead, and she guessed that most of her companions felt much the same. But after this precious moment she knew she would find him again, that she could love nobody

else.

The following morning, with less than an hour left of the prearranged rendezvous time, they made contact with the giant submarine. Men lined the guardrails as it surfaced, the water streaming from the casing and squat conning-tower, many of the onlookers remembering the other submarine's savage end, and wondering if this one's commander even knew about it.