OP-DEC: Operation Deceit

Chapter 15

A sound like distant fireworks echoed beyond the din of the engines. Claire stilled, listening for more. Her eyes searched. It came again.

Carsten suddenly opened the door. They eyed each other tensely. She lowered her raised hand.

"What was that sound?" Claire asked.

A man cried something from the control room. An alarm blasted. The engines roared and the sub jolted. Claire braced herself in the doorway. Carsten reacted without hesitation to grasp her arm and pull her out of the toilet.

"What's happening?" Claire demanded amidst the rising panic and rush of men.

The passage became impossibly tight with two passing at a time. Carsten hurried Claire into the control room, fighting to get back to the captain's bunk and put her out of the way. They drew up short as a crewman slid down the ladder from the bridge. His trench coat dripped sea water all over the deck. His haunting eyes caught Claire's for a moment before he faced the captain, his mouth full of Teutonic curses.

Carsten pulled Claire along as the drenched man received shouted orders. Carsten pushed her through the hatch and toward the bunk. She hopped on one foot, trying to find her balance before collapsing on the seat. Aunt sat up bewildered by the excitement, throwing her arms up to catch her.

"Stay here. This will be over soon," Carsten ordered them.

More fireworks thundered outside. An explosion. The sub shuddered.

"What's going on?" Aunt asked.

"We're under attack," Carsten replied. "Sit down and stay here. The captain will dive to avoid them and then we will wait. Not a peep, if you know what is best for you. They can hear everything," with that Carsten pointed to the man across the way with the headphones.

Claire nodded, stricken with fright. Aunt motioned her to sit close and circled her arms tightly around her. The curtain slid back into place, hiding Carsten's stony face. Then he was gone.

A moment later the screeching alarm ceased. Claire clung to her aunt, expecting something awful to happen. The sub tipped. The vessel rattled and the engines cranked to a halt. Her ears plugged and popped. Men trampled the passage outside, rattling the floor like tin.

The angle of the bunk flattened once more. Aunt squeezed her close, breathing hard against Claire's cheek. Silence encapsulated the sub. The riveted iron panels groaned under the depth pressures. Claire shut her eyes, praying they be spared a horrible death.

***

In the fore section of the sub, Carsten raced to find Mr. Healey. He pressed sideways between the flow of crewmen and at last reached him. Claire's father inspected the emptied petty officer bunks. Shadows moved in the dark of the next section where crew manned a torpedo tube in the bow.

"Mr. Healey," Carsten called above the noise. "It is vital you remain calm right now. Please make no noise."

Healey appeared confused. Fatigue drooped the lids of his eyes. He finally shook his head.

"Please sit down," Carsten said, helping him back to one of the bunks. "The captain is likely to dive any moment."

Healey swept a wide-eyed gaze over the dim paneling, and Carsten wondered whether he comprehended what was happening. Since boarding the sub, the man's sharp tongue had subsided. He smirked at the idea of something so simple shutting Herr Healey up. Still, Carsten distrusted him and wondered exactly who he was dealing with.

The alarm stopped, along with the cadence of engines. Healey drew up his shoulders and held onto the rail of the bunk. He leaned forward to see the passage from around the cabinets. The uptight bearing which epitomized the executive returned.