Talli held out his hands in appeal. “Remain calm,” he said raising his voice. “I regret what has happened; truly I do. I will do what I can to make you comfortable. We have food and coffee coming in an hour. You will be allowed to use the facilities one at a time. Until then, for your own protection, you need to stay here.”
“Go fuck yourself,” somebody shouted. He was joined by more shouts, and then, just as quickly as it started, it began to die out. It was as if losing their ship had ripped the heart and passion out of each and every one of the crew. It was something Talli understood. He was a sailor, too. That submarine was not only their duty, but it was their home. They looked after her, and she looked after them. Cut off from the Eagle, they had lost an important part of themselves. Talli looked mournfully over the group of submariners, shook his head, and left.
Ever since he had joined his men, Stefan had sat quietly on a chair in the corner. When offered cigarettes, he ignored them. When Eryk, and Squeaky, and the others approached him, attempted to get him to respond to questions, he did nothing.
“I think he’s cracked,” Eryk said. “Who would have thought it?”
Squeaky shook his head. “Nah. He’s thinking up a plan to get us out of here. Soon as he has it all figured out, he’ll let us know. Don’t worry.”
“You’re full of shit,” Eryk said. “Say, where’s the captain?”
“Speaking of somebody being full of shit,” Squeaky said. “And yeah, that’s a good question. Where is the asshole? Makes you wonder, don’t it?”
“What do you mean?” Eryk said.
“I mean, whose idea was it to come here.”
“You don’t think he was in on it, do you?” Eryk looked over his shoulders, his voice hushed.
“Guy was just looking out for his own ass. That’s what I think. We were his trophy boat; he’d stay hitched to us for a while and then move on to bigger and better things at headquarters. Unfortunately, the war started up. That put a kink in his plans, yes, sirree. And then, instead of going after the Germans, we’re forced to skedaddle for repairs here. But lo and behold, we’re interned by the Estonians. Who’d have thought that. In other words, safely out of the war.”
“Jesus, you could be right.”
“We should tell Stef.”
“Nah, leave him be. He’s still thinking. If I can figure it out, so can he. If I’m right, he’ll let us know.”
Across the room, Stefan was vaguely aware of the furtive, worried glances from his men. He saw Eryk and Squeaky huddled together, talking fiercely. They would have been disappointed to discover that instead of planning their escape, he was wondering whether he should bother somebody for a smoke. For the most part, he had recovered from his initial shock, the guilt and regret over not being able to prevent what had happened. The personal recriminations at being such a complete fool. He had known better and still he had let it happen. Now that they were under guard, he couldn’t figure out a way to rectify his mistake. He had always prided himself on his ability to solve problems even in the most stressful situations. But this was unique. And his mind felt trapped in molasses. Of course, he knew that worrying about a smoke was just a way to ignore the real problem, a growing sense of fear over what might happen to his men. He had no illusions. As well-meaning as Talli seemed to be, he would do what he was ordered. Stefan doubted they would be handed over to Polish diplomats, and even if that happened, what could they do? Before long, there would be no Poland. Of that he was sure. The Estonians couldn’t very well let them go free. After all, they were combatants in a war. Most likely, they would be handed over to somebody else. And that meant either the Soviets or the Nazis. Stefan didn’t like either choice, but he was at a loss to know what to do. And so he sat and worried about a smoke.
Kate didn’t even bother to knock. She looked at the address on her pad, then at the numbers above the massive stone doorway. “Excuse me,” she said to the Estonian sailor guarding the door. She pushed the barrel of his gun aside and marched right on in.
The guard opened his mouth to shout a warning, but Kate glanced over her shoulder and gave him a perfectly timed smile. That stopped the guard in his tracks. He gave Reggie a confused look. Reggie shrugged an apology, held out his press card for the guard to scan, and then snapped his wallet shut. “BBC,” he lied, and then he picked up the camera equipment and followed after her.
Kate paused in the entryway and did a quick turn around. McBride hadn’t been kidding. It was a gorgeous place. Strange jail for the crew of the Eagle, but it made a certain sense. An actual jail or prison would have alarmed the men right off. Hard enough to control one angry sailor, she couldn’t imagine how it would be with sixty. Besides, they weren’t officially arrested. What had McBride said the Estonians were calling it? “Belligerent guest restrictions.” Kate wondered if they actually hired people to come up with inane phrases like that or if it was just a characteristic of every bureaucracy on the planet. Of course, bringing the Eagle’s crew here made the threat less obvious. And as McBride pointed out, the building had limited ways to get in and out, so it could be guarded by a small group of men. When they figured out what to do with the Poles, they would load them aboard trucks, and drive them off to their fate.
Kate shifted her purse on her shoulder. The weight of the two pistols made the strap bite uncomfortably into her shoulder. They had decided against hiding them in Reggie’s equipment. Too easy for them to be discovered if anyone decided to look. Kate’s purse wasn’t much better, but McBride had figured that the ever-proper Estonians would bother to check Kate’s personal belongings. That was the hope, anyway. And so far, so good.
A short Estonian naval officer trotted up to Kate at about the same time Reggie staggered through the door. The officer was wiping his mouth, missing the sheen of grease on his upper lip. They had interrupted dinner.
He glanced at them both. Judged them British by their clothes. “Yes, yes, what can I do for you?” he said in accented English.
“I’m here to talk with the officer in charge.”
“That is me. My superior, he is gone for the moment.”
“NANS,” Reggie blustered nervously, holding out his press ID.
“We’re here to interview the Polish sailors….” Kate added. “We’re with an internationally recognized news service.”
“Impossible,” the Estonian said with a shake of his head. “The men are in protective custody. You must not disturb them. I am under orders.”
“Why?” Kate said with alarm. “They aren’t sick are they? It isn’t smallpox, or the flu….”
“Or something really contagious,” Reggie added hopefully. He was having serious second thoughts about this whole operation. If the crew was sick, that would end any hope of freeing them. It would be too bad, but so it goes in life.
“No, no, they aren’t sick. They are perfectly healthy and eating food graciously provided by the people and government of Estonia as we speak at this moment.”
“That’s perfect,” Kate cooed. “You’re feeding them right now. You see, we just want to get their story for our readers, and write about the wonderful treatment they’re receiving from their Estonian hosts. They are being well treated, aren’t they. By the way, what is your name?”
The Estonian officer straightened the front of his jacket. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a white handkerchief, and wiped his lips once again. He glanced at his watch. Talli wouldn’t return for another hour. He would have to decide. He glanced at the woman and decided. “Veski,” he said. “Walter Veski. Lieutnant Commander, Estonian Navy.” He bowed his head formally and smiled.