18
THE U-505 WHEELED IN A TEDIOUS CIRCLE, HER powerful diesels chugging slowly as she nosed through the depths like a gray, toothless shark. Lieutenant Commander Werner Heer, her master, was drinking ersatz coffee and trying not to smoke any more cigarettes. It had been a long day and a long night. He disliked his assignment; he was a combat man and there was no combat to be had here; and he thoroughly disliked the quiet Abwehr officer with storybook-sly blue eyes who was an unwelcome guest aboard his submarine.
The intelligence man, Major Wohl, sat opposite the captain. The man never looked tired, damn him. Those blue eyes looked around, taking things in, but the expression in them never changed. His uniform never got rumpled, despite the rigors of underwater life, and he lit a new cigarette every twenty minutes, on the dot, and smoked it to a quarter-inch stub. Heer would have stopped smoking, just so that he could enforce regulations and prevent Wohl from enjoying tobacco, but he himself was too much of an addict.
Heer had never liked intelligence people, he’d always had the feeling they were gathering intelligence on him. Nor did he like working with the Abwehr. His vessel was made for battle, not for skulking around the British coast waiting to pick up secret agents. It seemed to him plain madness to risk a costly piece of fighting machinery, not to mention its skilled crew, for the sake of one man who might well fail to show up.
He emptied his cup and made a face. “Damn coffee,” he said. “Tastes vile.”
Wohl’s expressionless gaze rested on him for a moment, then moved away. He said nothing.
Forever cryptic. To hell with him. Heer shifted restlessly in his seat. On the bridge of a ship he would have paced up and down, but men on submarines learn to avoid unnecessary movement. He finally said, “Your man won’t come in this weather, you know.”
Wohl looked at his watch. “We will wait until 6 A.M.,” he said easily.
It was not an order—Wohl could not give orders to Heer; but the bald statement of fact was still an insult to a superior officer. Heer told him so.
“We will both follow our orders,” Wohl said. “As you know, they originate from a very high authority indeed.”
Heer controlled his anger. The young man was right, of course. Heer would follow his orders, but when they returned to port he would report Wohl for insubordination. Not that it would do much good; fifteen years in the Navy had taught Heer that headquarters people were a law into themselves…. “Well, even if your man is fool enough to venture out tonight, he is certainly not seaman enough to survive.”
Wohl’s only reply was the same blank gaze.
Herr called to the radio operator. “Weissman?”
“Nothing, sir.”
Wohl said, “I have a feeling that the murmurs we heard a few hours ago were from him.”
“If they were, he was a long way from the rendezvous, sir,” the radio operator said. “To me it sounded more like lightning.”
Heer added, “If it was not him, it was not him. If it was him, he is drowned.”
“You don’t know this man,” Wohl said, and this time there was actually a trace of emotion in his voice.
Heer didn’t answer. The engine note altered slightly, and he thought he could distinguish a faint rattle. If it increased on the journey home he would have it looked at in the port. He might do that anyway, just to avoid another voyage with the unspeakable Major Wohl.
A seaman looked in. “Coffee, sir?”
Heer shook his head. “If I drink any more I’ll be pissing coffee.”
Wohl said, “I will please.” He took out a cigarette.
Which made Heer look at his watch. It was ten past six. The subtle Major Wohl had delayed his six o’clock cigarette to keep the U-boat there a few extra minutes. Heer said, “Set a course for home.”
“One moment,” Wohl said. “I think we should take a look on the surface before we leave.”
“Don’t be a fool,” Heer said. He knew that he was on safe ground now. “Do you realize what kind of storm is raging up there? We wouldn’t be able to open the hatch, and the periscope will show up nothing that is more than a few yards away.”
“How can you tell what the storm is like from this depth?”
“Experience.”
“Then at least send a signal to base telling them that our man has not made contact. They may order us to stay here.”
Heer gave an exasperated sigh. “It’s not possible to make radio contact from this depth, not with base.”
Wohl’s calm finally broke. “Commander Heer, I strongly recommend you surface and radio home before leaving this rendezvous. The man we are to pick up has vital information. The Fuehrer is waiting for his report.”
Heer looked at him. “Thank you for letting me have your opinion, Major,” he said. He turned away. “Full ahead both,” he ordered.
The sound of the twin diesels rose to a roar, and the U-boat began to pick up speed.