The Interrogator by Andrew Williams Read Free Book Online

bubble forcing its way to the surface.
    That it should come to this after so long and on this most sensitive of missions. The British would be on them in minutes.
    ‘Breathing apparatus. Prepare to abandon ship.’
    Gretschel was standing beside him holding a
Tauchretter
: ‘For you, Herr Kap’tän.’
    ‘What will Admiral Dönitz say, Gretschel?’
    ‘He’ll be sure we did our best, Herr Kap’tän.’ The first officer’s voice shook a little with emotion.
    The
112
broke the surface bow first and settled down by the stern, water surging from its deck. Cold fresh salt air he could taste swept through the boat like a wind as Gretschel flung open the tower hatch. It was almost midnight and clear, the sea quite still but for the dark silhouette of the destroyer closing fast on the port side, cutting a clean white wave at her bow.
    ‘Enemy closing 055, a thousand metres, Herr Kap’tän.’
    ‘Prepare the weighted bag.’
    The secret papers and the cipher machine must go over the side at once. The
112
was sinking rapidly by the stern but he had to be sure.
    ‘Out, out, out.’
    In the worn, familiar faces at the foot of the tower the fear that even now that small ring of night sky above them might be snatched away, the boat sinking back, sealing them in their iron coffin. Mohr pushed his way through them to the radio room:
    ‘Ready.’
    ‘Yes, Herr Kap’tän.’ The chief radio operator pointed to two bags on the small table in front of him: ‘The Enigma ciphering machine in this one and the code books and mission orders in the other.’
    ‘Come with me,’ and he snatched up the bag with the mission orders. Climbing slowly through the darkness, the bag heavy at his chest, the sound of feet scuffling on the bridge above, and as his hand reached for the topmost rung a zing, zing, zing of bullets striking the tower. The destroyer was firing at them.
    ‘Over the side.’
    And the crew began dropping from the deck into the ocean.
    ‘Scuttling charges set?’
    ‘Yes, yes,’ Heine shouted from below, panic ringing in his voice again.
    ‘Open the strainer and get out.’
    Another bullet pinged against the tower. The destroyer was closeenough for Mohr to hear the slow rattle of her heavy machine gun. Her captain could have no idea of the prize he was going to drag from the Atlantic. The engineer was at his side:
    ‘All right, you can join them.’
    The little lights on the life vests of his men were rising and falling in the dark ocean, small groups clustered together, arms raised in supplication to the enemy. And the destroyer was edging closer, a beam of brilliant white light from a large lamp trained on the deck of the
112
. Mohr picked up the bag at his feet, checked the seal and its weight – good enough – and with a great sideways sweep of his arm flung it over the lip of the tower into the darkness. A small phosphorescent splash and the bag and its secrets sank out of sight, dropping thousands of metres to the ocean floor. Mohr smiled ruefully. If only it were that simple, if only it could end there with the secret of their mission lost fathoms down where no one would find it. If only . . .

6
     
Interrogation Room 4
The Combined Services Detailed Interrogation Centre
Trent Park
Cockfosters
    L

indsay looked up from his pad with a deliberate smile and reached for his cigarettes.
    ‘Would you like another, Herr Leutnant?’ he asked in German. He slid the packet across the shabby wooden table to Helmut Lange who pounced on it like a man possessed: ‘Thank you.’
    An angry-looking crack in his lip was making it uncomfortable to speak. About his right eye, the bruising was turning from ugly green to yellow and it wrinkled into a painful, mottled pattern when he smiled.
    ‘Why do you think my . . .’ Lindsay looked down at the packet of Players he was turning slowly in his hand, ‘my colleague thought you were a spy?’
    ‘I don’t know. I’m a journalist, a navy journalist.’
    Lindsay