Einstein pointed to his head.
“The written ones,” Bill emphasized.
“Ach, those. The Kaiser’s men have them. They are being kept in the captain’s cabin.”
Pursing his lips in frustration, Bill nodded. Pointing to Matt, he said, “Follow him.” To Matt, he said, “Hand him off to Lane when we get outside, and let’s you, Jordan, and I get up to the flying bridge.”
During the day, while resting and preparing for the operation, Beron had taught the assault crew all he knew about German freighters. Most were quite similar, built in shipyards on the Baltic, about 440 feet long, and displaced approximately 14,000 tons. Built on a concept developed in Sunderland, England in 1939, it was a standardized tramp freighter design, worldwide. It sounded very much to Bill like the Liberty ships built during World War II.
The captain’s cabin would be on the bridge deck, behind the wheelhouse. To get there would require climbing up the exterior ladders two flights.
Matt started for the hatchway with the elderly Einstein in tow. Sub-machine gun at the low ready, Bill stepped out of the cabin, looking about to ensure nobody surprised them. The three made it out the hatch, where Bill told Lane, “Get him to Rhodes and the three of you get out of here with the stolen Dixie Flyer. We’re going up to the captain’s cabin to get the plans. Be back with both cars in five minutes. If you need to land on the deck, do so.”
Making their way up the starboard ladder to the bridge deck, Bill was somewhat grateful that his night vision was partially shot. Entering a brightly lit room would be less painful and allow him to focus on any threat more easily. Keeping low, so they weren’t visible through the bridge windows, the three made their way to the starboard hatch, the only hatch they could access the bridge through.
They needed not only surprise on their side but also a lot of good fortune. If only one or two people were on the deck, it was likely they’d have no problem getting the plans and getting out. More than that, though, and there was likely to be trouble. Trouble in this case probably equated to shooting, something both men were hoping to avoid.
From their briefing by Beron the day before, they knew that the bridge deck was likely occupied by the captain, a radio operator or two, and whoever would be manning the conn at night. Neither men expected both radio operators to be awake at this time of night, but anything was possible.
Jordan, holding only a pistol, grabbed the hatch handle. Bill took a ready position, and Matt did the same behind him. At Bill’s nod, Jordan rotated the hatch and pulled the door open swiftly. Bill stepped onto the bridge, sub-machine up and pointing ahead. A lone man stood on the bridge, holding onto the giant wheel, staring at the armed men entering.
“Hände hoch” Bill whispered loudly. “Sag nichts, sonst schieße ich. Verstehst du?”
The man nodded his understanding, hands held high.
While Bill was holding the man at gunpoint, Matt entered and silently headed to the captain’s cabin. Jordan, meanwhile, had entered. His role was to tie and gag the bridge crew. Bill stepped aside so as to keep Jordan out of the line of fire. As Jordan approached the man, who was staring at him wide-eyed, he told him, in German, to do as he was told or he’d be shot. A few seconds later, the man was on the deck, facedown, hogtied and gagged.
The two then turned their attention back to the rear of the bridge, where the captain’s cabin was located. Matt stood by, pistol drawn.
This time, instead of Jordan opening the door, that duty fell to Matt. Bill still provided the heavy firepower, so, again, he was first to enter.
“Was gibt?” a drowsy captain demanded from his bunk.
Bill shoved the barrel of the submachine gun into the captain’s face, and in a low voice, demanded, “Wo sind die Pläne?”
“Auf dem Schreibtisch,” the man said, pointing to the small desk adjacent to the hatchway they had just come through.
With the gun still pointing at the captain, Bill said, “Jordan?”
“Got it,” he heard, confirming he had the plans.
“Matt, secure the captain.”
Matt hogtied and gagged the terrified captain.
With Jordan in the lead, the three made their way out of the cabin and through the bridge. Just as Jordan opened the starboard hatchway, Bill heard somebody shout behind them, “Piraten!”
Turning, he saw it was one of the two surviving Germans from the Atlanta shootout. The man was in boxers and a wife-beater tank top, but that wasn’t what held his attention. In the man’s hand was a Luger, clearly pointed in his direction. Without a thought, Bill pulled the trigger and sent a stream of bullets toward him. One or more hit, as the man was knocked back, hitting the bulkhead, then sliding down it, dropping his pistol.
“Well, that blew it,” Matt muttered as they hurried off the bridge.
The scramble down the ladder was met with loud voices emanating from the crew’s quarters on the boat deck. The hatch in front of Jordan banged open, catching him and knocking him onto his side. Luckily, he held onto the cylinder containing the plans, but his pistol was knocked from his hand. Bill saw it skitter across the deck and fall off the edge.
A man stepped out of the hatchway and aimed a pistol at Jordan while raising the alarm about pirates. Matt shot him center-mass, firing twice, then twice again. The man went down, Jordan jumped to his feet, and the three continued running down the ladder until they reached the upper deck.
A quick sprint took them to the stern where Bill and Matt took up firing positions behind a boat locker, keeping to the shadows. Bill knew the difference between cover and concealment, and sincerely hoped the boat deck would provide the latter and protect them from any small arms fire.
Gunshots rang out from the tower. Some bullets came remarkably close to the men, caroming off the metal deck into the night sky.
“Don’t give yourself away,” Bill said to the others. “Jordan, get that red flashlight out and signal for the pick-up. You get in first with the plans.”
“On it.” Even over the increasing gunfire directed their way, Bill could hear the click of the flashlight switch, repeating dit-dit-dit, dah-dah-dah, dit-dit-dit, over and over. Three dots, three dashes, and three dots; the international signal for SOS, or Save Our Ship.
A couple of Germans decided at that point to rush the three Explorers. Rather than shoot them, Bill laid down some suppressing fire in front of them. It worked, with one of the men getting hit in the leg with a ricochet. Better that than being gut-shot, Bill thought. The man’s companions grabbed him under the armpits and dragged him back to safety while he screamed in pain, trying to hold onto his leg while the men were holding onto his armpits. It made for a very awkward retrieval.
“I see one of them,” Jordan announced. Bill took a second to look to the starboard and saw the powder-blue Dixie Flyer approach. Disregarding the firing, Ford landed the car on the deck next to the three men and yelled, “Get in!”
Jordan jumped in the front seat with the plans held tightly as Matt climbed into the lidless trunk, shotgun pointed out. As the car struggled into the air, Bill let loose another burst, peppering the area around the hatch of the main deck, and then the hatch for the second deck, where the officers’ quarters were. He hoped he didn’t hit anyone, but he didn’t really care at that moment, as long as his team got away unharmed.
Seconds after taking off, the powder-blue Dixie Flyer was replaced by the cherry-red Dixie Flyer flown by Rhodes. Bill left the cover of the locker, ran, and jumped over the passenger door, submachine gun in his left hand while he vaulted over the door using his right hand as a support. Landing in the seat, he turned outward, submachine gun ready to lay down more supressive fire, yelling, “Let’s get the hell out of here!”
Bill could feel the sudden rise of the car, much like inside a fast elevator, as Rhodes took it off the deck. As they turned to head back toward the Enigma, more men came out of the tower onto the main deck, most armed. Bill was at a disadvantage when it came to laying down further su
ppressive fire, angled away from the door as he was with the turning car.
Fortunately for them, Ford had elected not to return to the Enigma, and Bill heard the blast of a shotgun firing as Matt laid into the Kleine Sassnit’s crew. Some were hit, but most weren’t, diving for cover behind the deck rail, a solid piece of steel that surrounded the vessel.
This gave Rhodes time enough to accelerate and get the small car out of sight, and hopefully range, of the Germans.
In less than a minute they approached the Enigma where Rhodes was able to land on the foredeck. Meanwhile, Ford was able to safely land on the quarterdeck. As the men exited the cars, Bill could feel a surge from the vessel as Beron applied power and it began to pick up speed. Turning away from the German freighter, the Enigma headed east, and not too soon. Fortunately, the boat was still running dark, because just as it completed the turn Bill could hear a booming sound coming from the freighter. A splash erupted to the port side of the Enigma.
It was then that Bill realized that the freighter had just opened fire on the “pirates” with a deck cannon. Beron’s crew didn’t waste any time responding, and the stern .50 caliber machine gun opened fire. Bill could see sparks flying off the freighter’s gun glacis plate, indicating bullets were striking it. With the Enigma running dark and the lights still on the freighter, it was easier for the Enigma’s crew to fire with accuracy, despite the increasing speed of the yacht. Of course, the flashes caused by the firing machine-gun made it easier for the German crew to identify their location. Bill guessed that they were too busy ducking the onslaught rather than trying to respond to it.
Bill went up to the bridge, where Captain Beron was standing while a crew member steered. Turning to the younger man, the captain said, “Well, that was right excitin’, but if’n y’all don’t mind, I think I’ll get us all outta here.” Bill just nodded.
Bill soon returned to the deck where both cars sat, crew members securing them with straps. Everyone involved in the action, including Herr Einstein, were standing around the cars, looking drained. The boat swayed under his feet as spray splashed from the bow. Bill estimated they were approaching fifty knots an hour, close to the boat’s top speed.
“We should be ashore in three, four hours,” he said to the assembled group. Looking toward the stern, he could see the rapidly dwindling lights of the freighter. “Everyone okay?” At the weary nods, Bill said, “Great. Let’s get everyone into the lounge.” Looking at Jordan, he added, “I’m sure there’s a worried young lady in there.”
75
In the lounge, they were greeted by not only a worried young lady, whose worries seemed to only apply to a certain Jordan Washington, but also by the ship’s purser, who proceeded to dispense glasses of some liquid.
“Captain’s compliments,” he said as he handed one to Bill. The tumbler was etched with a profile of the Enigma with its name engraved above. It was then that Bill noticed that the boat had a motto, engraved below the profile: fortes fortuna iuvat. As he took a sip of what turned out to be a very peaty Scotch, he thought, Fortune truly does favor the bold.
The only one not drinking Scotch was Summer. It appeared that Scotch wasn’t her thing, and the purser knew that, which was why she held a glass of white wine. Her other hand was wrapped tightly about Jordan’s waist.
Bill flopped down onto one of the leather lounge seats, setting his submachine-gun next to him. One by one, the others did the same.
Looking at the German scientist, Bill said, “Wilkommen in der freiheit, Herr Einstein.”
“Am I truly free, though?” he responded.
“That’s up to you, sir. We, here, are offering you three routes to freedom, but you are free to choose a fourth.”
“What are these routes of freedom of which you speak?
Bill pointed to Ford and then Rhodes. “These gentlemen would like you to go back to their countries with them to help further develop your adjustable electromagnetic propulsion system. My group would, too. Of course, the fourth option is taking a different path, going wherever you wish. We have given you that freedom of choice.”
Looking about the room, Bill continued, “If everyone agrees, I’d like to have each group spend five or ten minutes with Mr. Einstein and to lay out their vision of the future and how he’ll play in it. I don’t mind going last.”
Ford and Rhodes agreed, both secretly hoping that Einstein wouldn’t go with the others.
Turning to Jordan, who was still holding the cardboard cylinder, Bill asked, “Are the plans really in there?”
“Haven’t even looked,” he said, chagrined. Popping the top off the case, he extracted a thick roll of papers, which he laid on the table in the middle of the lounge. Bill looked at Ford then Einstein expectantly.
The two men moved closer to the plans.
“Ja, that is what I have written,” Einstein said, while Morty nodded, muttering, “Looks like them.”
With a feeling of relief, Bill said, “All right, then. Let’s get some cameras and take some photos before we have anything more to drink.”
Lane offered to retrieve the cameras, recognizing how much the operation had taken out of the three younger Explorers, especially since they had been the ones to face the greater threat.
Bill asked, “Is there any way we can get more light in here, like a small spotlight or something?” The purser said he would find something and disappeared.
Lane returned in a few minutes with the four cameras, shortly before the purser did with a spotlight strong enough for photography. Bill had Ford hold the plans while each Explorer took a picture of each page. With only four possible shutter speeds, they each used one of two different f-stops, hoping to ensure that every photo would provide a quality image. Each Explorer went through two rolls of film before all the pages had been photographed. Bill and Jordan each used the same settings, and when all the photos were taken, Bill turned over his rolls of film to Rhodes.
“If nothing else, you’ve at least got the same plans as the rest of us,” Bill said as Rhodes took the film canisters and put them away in his pants pocket.
Only after the photos were taken and the plans returned to Ford did Bill decide it was time for the competing interests of Ford, Rhodes, and the Corps to talk to Einstein individually. As first Ford, then Rhodes, spoke with Einstein, the others went out onto the darkened quarterdeck to await their turn. The plans remained on the lounge’s table.
After Rhodes finished, Bill asked Ford and Rhodes if they’d be willing to wait on the quarterdeck while the crew from the Republic of California spoke with the scientist. “This way, you don’t have to worry about us flying off with him and the cars,” he said with a smile.
Nodding in understanding, the two men stepped outside, leaving Einstein with just the four Explorers and Summer.
“Herr Einstein,” Bill began, “I don’t know what the other men are offering you, but we’d like to offer you two things; freedom beyond your current expectations and enough money to allow you to pursue whatever dreams you have. We represent a rather large corporation who believes that they can benefit from your creativity, and are willing to pay for it, as long as you allow them the right to manufacture your adjustable electromagnetic repulsive technology. While typical royalty rates for inventions are between three and six percent of the wholesale price, we’d like to offer ten percent of the wholesale price, and we’re willing to put that in writing right now.
“When it comes to future inventions, we won’t require you to sign with us nor give us the right of first refusal on any other inventions you develop, just the opportunity to bid on them fairly against other companies.
“We’ll also gladly pay for your trip to our home, and provide a simple home of your own when you arrive. If you set up your own company and need investors, we’ll be glad to become an investor, too. Ideally, before you went public,” he added with another smile.
“We already have the plans for your electromagnet, so it’s not as if we need you to come w
ith us. We’re offering you the opportunity.
“The only drawback is that if you decide to go with us, you’ll never be able to return to Germany again, or visit any other country. It’s a one-way trip, but I believe you’ll find the freedom worth it.” Bill was actually referring to Hayek when he said this, not the Republic of California, but he didn’t know how to get the message across without divulging the secret of the gate and the access to the multiverse.
“How is that freedom, if I do not have the right to go where I want?”
“Do you have that now, the right to travel freely? Do you think you’d be free to move about, either in the Confederacy, the British Empire, or Germany? You’ve seen how Germany treats people, and how some people in the Confederacy are treated. Do you like it?”
Einstein only shook his head.
Pointing toward Jordan, Bill continued, “Have you seen how we interact with Jordan?”
“It seems you treat him as your equal,” Einstein responded.
“We do. And the reason we do is because he is our equal. As is Lane,” Bill said, pointing toward the Asian explorer. “If Ms. Washington decides to come with us rather than return to the Confederacy, she’ll be treated exactly the same.”
“Ain’t no way, no how I’m going back to that place,” the young woman said emphatically. One could almost feel the anger and fear emanating from her with that simple statement. “Count me in!”
“So, the way I see it, the choice is between living in a world where freedom doesn’t exist, and you face the threat of kidnapping or murder every day, or you can join us and live in freedom, and more importantly, freedom from fear. I say this because I know I can guarantee that no agent of the Kaiser will ever be able to find you where we’re going.”
“Both Mr. Ford and the British agent have offered me vast sums of money to stay, along with protection. Why should I go with you?” Einstein asked.
“Did either of them offer you freedom? Did they offer you freedom from fear? If the answer to either of those two questions is no, then what they have to offer doesn’t hold a candle to what we can.”
The Corps of Discovery Trilogy Box Set: Books 1-3: A multiverse series of alternate history Page 83