Ritter pushed aside the curtain, stepped partially inside. On the bunk in front of him was Sieinski, laying on his side, legs pulled up to his chest. Despite the thick layer of blankets, he was shivering violently.
“Maybe I should come back?” Ritter said.
“No, no, what is it?” Sieinski said through chattering teeth. “I’ve never been rude to an invited guest and I’m not about to start.”
Ritter shrugged. “Well then. I won’t be long. I understand you are considering a run to France?”
“Where did you hear that?” Sieinski said sharply.
Ritter spread out his arms. “People talk. Hard to piss around here without someone noticing.”
Sieinski pushed out his chin. He was in no mood to argue. “What if I am?” he said through clenched teeth.
“You are captain,” Ritter said quickly. “Of course, it is your prerogative. I would not question that. After all, I am just an engineer, a technician, not a soldier. My colleagues and I wanted to make sure you had all the information you needed to make a good decision.”
“What do you mean?”
“France…. you will never make it,” Ritter said bluntly.
Sieinski pushed away the blanket with a derisive snort and sat up, grasping the edge of his bunk with both hands to hold himself steady. “Oh, please, don’t tell me about the capabilities of the vaunted Kriegsmarine. We can travel submerged for nearly 100 hours if we need to. And we have the means to protect ourselves. We can make it, I’m confident of it.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Ritter said softly, his eyes glittering.
“Explain?”
“The repairs to the hydraulic pumps and the rest of the systems…. I never expected them to last even this long. There is only one permanent fix. New pumps. If you attempt a journey to France, my, uh, colleagues and I are convinced that, well….” He shook his head. “Like I said. We won’t make it. There is not one possibility in 100.”
Sieinski bowed his head for a moment, his body sagged. “What does Chief K say?”
Ritter shrugged. “I think your chief is loyal to his captain, but as far as understanding the mechanics of the Eagle and the intricacies of her hydraulic system, well, that boy with the pimples, Jerzy, he is a better engineer….”
“I see,” said Sieinski wearily, his eyes dull. It was taking every effort to remain upright. It was almost impossible to concentrate on this new problem. He had thought it settled, they would patrol for a day longer, and then he would get confirmation from headquarters of the radio message he had sent earlier. With the war going so badly, heading for France was the only sensible thing to do. Sweden was another possibility. “What do you suggest?”
Ritter didn’t respond right away. Better to be casual about it, not too eager. It must seem like a new thought, an off-the-cuff suggestion. “Well, I don’t know what is best. But we do have repair facilities in Tallinn,” he said. “Modest, of course. But I expect that what the Eagle needs could be found there in short order. Yes, that’s it. Not as close as Sweden, but if you go there, your war is over. They won’t let you leave out of fear of endangering their sacred neutrality. Not to mention Sweden.” He wrinkled his nose. “If for one much prefer the attractions of Paris to those Lutheran tight asses. In Tallinn you could repair the Eagle, get rid of your American passengers and me and my men, and then be on your way to France, and continue the fight You wouldn’t need us anymore. It would only delay you a few days. No more.”
Sieinski leaned back against the bulkhead, pulled the blanket over his lap and began nodding with interest. Of course, it made sense. Perfect sense. And while there, he could see a doctor about his head and his other need. The very thought of being able to satisfy his craving for opium was almost overwhelming. Was there anything more he needed to prove to himself or his father? Of course not, he rationalized. After all, he had gone without it for three days. That was an adequate test of character, particularly given the tremendous strain he had been under. Tallinn? The real question was, Why he hadn’t he considered it earlier? Or why hadn’t one of his officers? It had become clear to him that they were holding things back from him. But that could all be addressed after a short stop in Tallinn. No need to radio for permission, either. The fleet commanders had other, more important, things to consider. This fell well under the discretion of a captain during time of war.
“Can I get you anything, sir?”
Sieinski smiled. “You are a gentleman. Please, a cup of tea would do nicely. I am feeling a bit better. Nasty blow to the head and a bout of something else. A visit to Tallinn would also give me a chance to see a doctor and visit some family. Did you know that my mother is from Tallinn?”
Ritter smiled. “What a pleasant surprise,” he said.
“Tallinn?” Stefan exclaimed. “Why?”
Sieinski took his time replying. He sipped from his tea, smacked his lips, and then took another sip. “Tell him…” Sieinski nodded to Ritter who was crowded into the doorway with Stefan.
“The repairs we made were only temporary. It is imperative you find more permanent solutions before subjecting the Eagle to the further rigors of war. We have facilities close at hand in Tallinn to help make that happen.”
“Since when? I’ve never heard of any.”
“Then, I’m sorry to say, you are behind the times. They’ve been there since, ah, last year, I believe.” Ritter stared blankly back at Stefan, not a challenge, but not backing down either.
Stefan peered over his shoulder. “Chief, get down here.”
Chief K, who had noticed the crowd in front of the captain’s doorway and was attempting to duck into the toilet, sagged noticeably and began trudging down the passageway toward them.
“What’s the status of the repairs?” Stefan asked. “Any problems?
Chief K glanced furtively at Ritter, licked his lips, and then dropped his eyes to the floor. “Well, you see, they seem,” he drew out the last word for emphasis, “all right for now, but no guarantees that they will last.”
Stefan gave a short bark of laughter. “There are no guarantees in war or life, Chief, didn’t you know that? We could all be dead a moment from now.”
“Well, what I mean to say is… “
Time for a little push, Ritter decided. “Captain,” he interrupted, “I won’t be responsible for what may happen to this vessel when she breaks down. And she will break down, mark my words. Therefore, if you choose not to seek port and procure a permanent solution to our temporary repairs, my men and I request a life raft, if you please. We will depart the vessel immediately, and take our chances out there….”
“For chrissakes…,” Stefan bellowed, “don’t be ridiculous. I didn’t…..”
“It’s settled then,” Sieinski said calmly from his perch on his bunk. “Not that I needed your permissions. At nightfall, we surface and make best possible speed for Tallinn.”
Stefan ran his hand through his hair, bewildered by the sudden turn of events. “Estonia? Latvia is closer. It has top-notch repair facilities. I’m sure we could get what we need there. And aren’t the Estonians cozy with the Germans?”
Sieinski’s eyes narrowed. Enough. He would remember his second in command’s outbursts. It bordered on insubordination. There would be time to take care of that once they arrived in Tallinn. “Thank you, Stefan. I appreciate your advice. I really do,” he lied. “But Estonia, as you know, is a neutral country. I just verified that with headquarters. Under the circumstances, we can expect them to respect all appropriate protocols. Under international law, we will have 24 hours, I think, to get back underway, isn’t that correct?”