Carrion Scourge_Plague Of Monsters
Page 29
A round-faced officer from the SS Security Service, with a finely chiseled nose and strong chin, stepped just to the entrance of the airlock into the command room. He hesitated to enter farther, not calling attention to himself. The officer was either being polite or was spying. SS officers weren’t known for politeness. His hand dropped alongside his chest, a glowing cigarette between his fingers.
Erik slowly lifted his gaze through drooping eyelids. His expression hid whether he hadn’t understood the request or if it was a task he had decided not to do.
Christoph stepped away from the periscope. He motioned his head to the side, signaling Bach to take his place. “If you are in my command room you must make yourself useful. We don’t need bodies taking space. Get some tools and tighten the flange, or leave and help the cook in the galley. You earned a ribbon shooting targets with a Mauser in Youth Camp. I am sure you are skilled enough to peel a potato.” Christoph regretted his condescending words as soon as they left his lips. He didn’t want to embarrass the boy, only inspire him. It certainly didn’t come out that way.
Erik slowly shook his head, the spark of life dim in his eyes. “If I leave or stay doesn’t matter to me. Wherever I go, life is the same. I am still in a boat. I am no longer in the Fatherland. My home is gone. My leader is dead. My mother is dead. My country has lost the war.” His bottom lip rose and quivered. “My country is dead.”
“Hold your tongue!” Christoph said. His hand was forced, now was the time. He had to set his son on a path that would save or utterly destroy him. With a raised finger, Christoph pointed, face reddening, and a growing snarl curling his lips. Before he could release Armageddon, Bach interrupted.
“Commander, the Destroyer is turning on an interception course. We are discovered.”
Emotions had distracted Christoph from his duties as commander. A US Destroyer, designed specifically for submarine warfare, threatened his final mission. The most important mission in his life. The U-616 carried drawings, arms, medical supplies, instruments, lead, mercury, caffeine, steels, optical glass, and brass. There was secret cargo too. Two short tonnes of uranium oxide designated for the nuclear project hid away. But the most precious cargo, the primary purpose of this mission, was getting a select few out of Germany, out of the hands of the Allies, and brought safely to Brazil.
Christoph looked at the man who shadowed the airlock’s entrance, Klaus Barbie. A member of the Gestapo, he had earned the nickname of The Butcher of Lyon. The commander didn’t know how much truth was in the rumors concerning the cruelty of this man, but he could feel the coldness of his presence between them. “Captain Barbie, please inform the other guests and our two patients of the situation.”
The glowing tip of Barbie’s cigarette smoldered.
Christoph wasn’t a fan of tobacco, but he was thankful others were. The smell of cigarettes was more desirable than the body odors, mildew funk, and battery and machinery fumes ever present in a U-boat.
“Erik, go with the captain and make yourself useful. Make sure the patients are comfortable,” Christoph said.
Barbie mashed the fading glow of his smoke on a callused palm. He left without saying a word. He didn’t need to speak; the commander knew what was at stake.
“Even if we surface, we can’t outrun them,” Christoph said. “This is our final mission. Our duty is to ensure it is the Destroyer’s last mission too.”
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