OP-DEC: Operation Deceit

Chapter 18

Carsten saw the gulls wheel through the air over the ocean waves, crying to him for scaring off their food. The seas rolled furiously, promising hard fishing for the birds regardless of the boat cutting through. His eyes lifted to the platinum sky. The dim morning promised a storm. It was good they would reach the shores of France in little more than an hour. A storm could set them off course, leaving them in danger of wallowing for days.

Behind him, the captain searched the east with binoculars. Carsten offered him a cigarette, but was refused. The captain conducted himself in his usual quiet manner, but was all business right then. A man on watch stood by the gun a step below the bridge. The others scanned the horizon thoroughly. If they ran into the enemy, this would be the likely place. Carsten only hoped their luck held out.

Carsten lit up, needing a smoke to cut the tension. He tapped his finger on the gray iron rail. He eyed the horizon and grew restless. He expected the sight of land any moment, but it refused to show itself. Perhaps it was already there, but the gray fog prevented them from detecting it. Scrubbing a hand over his beard, he sighed. It would only take longer if he insisted on waiting. Besides, the weather coat grew uncomfortable, heavy with salt and dampness. Carsten abandoned his post and shuffled toward the hatch. Giving his smoke to one of the boys, he spun around and mounted the ladder. Waist-deep in the hatch, a crewman called out. They'd spotted land. Carsten smiled to himself and continued below. He slid down the rest of the way, slamming his feet on the deck. He smiled at the captain's second in command.

"We're on the coast," Carsten said, pulling the hat from his golden head.

The man smiled back. "We'll arrive in no time."

Carsten ducked through the hatch, intent on the curtain as a murmur rose among the crew. He hesitated. The women were quiet, probably sleeping. He placed his hand holding the hat on the paneling and the other on the heavy canvas and tugged the barrier slowly aside. Noreen sat in the corner, propped against the wall, with her hand draped over Claire, whose head rested in her lap. They looked wretched but peaceful. He hated to wake them, even from a fitful slumber.

Carsten's eyes slid over Claire's sleeping form. He recalled the night he took her out under the pretense of seeing a film. He frowned slightly, noticing the state of her dress. She'd bought it for their date. Another time or another place, it would have been worth her while. A smile twitched the corners of his lips. He guessed he was in fact interested, but the rift between them made it unfeasible. He wouldn't entertain the idea under the present circumstances, although the smooth contours of her bare limbs made the choice seem unreasonable

"Enjoying the view?" Aunt asked.

Carsten's eyes went to hers, and she held his gaze and made her warning clear. She could try to protect her cub as she liked, but the cub would do as she pleased. He had seen that play out often enough.

Claire sighed as she woke to her aunt's voice. She brushed her hair aside and rose on her arm, gathering her senses.

"The watch has sighted land," Carsten said, with a warning behind his words. "We'll be in France in a couple of hours."

Claire looked more tired than before she'd gone to sleep. She exhausted so easily in the prison the sub provided; he hoped her listlessness wouldn't be a problem on the rest of the trip.

"Finally," Noreen said. Her face softened.

"Where do we go from here?" Claire asked.

"From France, we go to Germany," Carsten answered, appearing sinister when he spoke the name of his home country. "Berlin."