“Sanctificetur nomen tuum,” I continued, maintaining eye contact with Thomas.“Adveniat regnum tuum.Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in caelo et in terra.”
Gradually, the darkness receded from his eyes.His posture relaxed incrementally, control reasserting itself over instinct.“I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“Control is not the absence of hunger,” I told him.“It is the mastery of it.”
Mercer’s voice echoed through the submarine, calling for extraction.Our mission was complete—the U-boat neutralized, its intelligence secured, a portion of the crew incapacitated but alive.As we regrouped at the conning tower, preparing to return to the freezing Atlantic and our own vessel beyond, I caught Desiderius watching me.
“Your intervention was unexpected,” he said quietly.“But effective.”
“Prayer often is,” I replied, knowing he referred not to my handling of Thomas and Catherine, but to my confrontation with Mercer over the German sailors’ lives.
His ancient eyes held mine for a moment longer.“Not prayer,” he corrected.“Practicality clothed in morality.You spoke his language.”
Before I could respond, Mercer gave the signal, and we ascended into the dark waters once more, leaving behind a ghost ship of unconscious men who would never fully understand what had happened to them—or how close they had come to a far darker fate.
Chapter 18
WeclimbedaboardtheLeviathan like creatures born from the sea, water streaming from our black rubber suits in rivulets that pooled on the deck.The crew maintained a careful distance as we emerged, their faces a study in conflicted emotions—relief at our return, awe at what they had witnessed from the ship’s deck, and the ever-present undercurrent of fear that accompanied their every interaction with us.I peeled back my hood, feeling the night air against my face like a caress after the crushing pressure of the deep.My flock gathered around me, their expressions revealing varying degrees of exhilaration and disquiet.Ruth’s eyes still showed excitement, while Thomas held an intense focus and stiff shoulders.
Dr.Gallow materialized from the shadows, clipboard already in hand, his pen poised to document our return.“Any casualties?”he inquired, the question directed at Mercer rather than me, despite my standing mere inches away.
Mercer’s lips curled upward as he peeled the wetsuit from his shoulders.“None on our side,” he said, water dripping from his slicked-back hair.“We neutralized most of the crew.”His eyes gleamed with satisfaction before darting toward me, hardening.“Though some remain merely...incapacitated.”He turned to Gallow.“Have the Osprey intercept the U-boat’s position.Those Germans still breathing should be in Allied custody before their fleet can mount a rescue.”
Gallow’s pen paused mid-stroke, his eyebrows lifting slightly.“You left some of them alive?That wasn’t the operational directive.”
“The operational directive was to neutralize the threat and secure intelligence,” I interjected before Mercer could respond.“Both objectives were achieved.”
Mercer’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.“Miss Bladewell advocated for a less...permanent approach to the German crew.Given the circumstances, I deemed it an acceptable modification to the plan.”
The admission clearly cost him, yet he offered it nonetheless.A small victory, but significant.Dr.Gallow made a notation on his clipboard, his expression unreadable behind the reflection of his glasses.
Gallow’s lips thinned to a bloodless line.“How...accommodating of you, Captain,” he said, each syllable brittle as ice.His pen scratched viciously across his clipboard.“I’m certain General Gantry will be most interested in this deviation from protocol.”A tight smile appeared and vanished.“But what’s done is done, I suppose.”
The crew hurried to collect our specialized gear as we dispersed to change into dry clothing.I caught fragments of their whispered conversations—awestruck recountings of how we had disappeared into the ocean depths and emerged victorious less than an hour later.One young sailor crossed himself as Ruth passed by, her predatory grace apparently more unsettling on the return than during the departure.
Later, in the officers’ wardroom where Mercer had convened us to debrief, the true consequences of our approach became apparent.Maps spread across the table showed the planned movements of the German Wolf Pack—intelligence that would save countless Allied lives in the coming weeks.Codebooks captured intact would allow our cryptographers to decipher enemy communications for months.
“The mission was a success,” Mercer acknowledged, his finger tracing the U-boat’s planned route across the Atlantic.“Though my approach would have been cleaner.”
“Cleaner?”I scoffed.“You mean bloodier.With more bodies.”
“I mean with fewer complications,” he corrected sharply.“Those sailors will be interrogated.They’ll report being attacked by something...unnatural.Questions will be asked.”
“Questions without answers,” Desiderius interjected.“They were unconscious during most of the encounter.Their accounts will be dismissed as panic, trauma, perhaps hallucinations caused by oxygen deprivation.”
“Or superstition,” I added.“Fear of the unknown is a powerful weapon.Let them wonder what struck from the depths.”
Mercer’s lips curved into something approximating a smile.“You’re thinking more tactically than I expected, Miss Bladewell.”
I met his gaze directly.“If effectiveness means leaving witnesses to spread uncertainty and fear rather than leaving corpses to be counted, so be it.”
The successful operation shifted something in the air between us—not friendship, certainly, but perhaps a grudging mutual respect.When Dr.Gallow arrived to escort us back to our quarters, Desiderius spoke up with an authority I hadn’t heard him exercise since our conscription.
“Our flock performed admirably tonight,” he stated.“They deserve better accommodation than the cargo hold you’ve assigned them.”
Gallow glanced toward Mercer, clearly uncertain whose authority took precedence in this matter.Mercer studied us for a long moment before nodding slightly.
“The officer’s quarters on D Deck are currently unoccupied,” he conceded.“Make the arrangements, Doctor.”
