A long shot, but the only one he had.
Fractured prayers ricocheted in his head.
A muffled boom rolled over the waters, and he glanced behind him. Another boom, and a pulsing glow rose.
His limpet mines. They’d worked. Surely Kraus would see and believe.
A third boom. A fourth.
Now Kraus could send his message to Germany.
A sickening in his gut. A convulsion.
If Cilla was on time for the rendezvous, she was already on board the U-boat. Her limpet mine planted.
“No, no, no.” He squinted at the seas. “Please let her have missed the rendezvous. Please let her have selected a long delay on the fuse.”
His breath bounced in his throat, erratic, uncontrolled. Where was the U-boat? Where wasMar na Creag?
“Cilla, where are you, lass?”
With every second, his long shot grew longer.
****
“It was an American warship,” Cilla said with a smug expression.
All around, German sailors cheered.
Kraus wore an exultant smile. “Excellent work, Fräulein. That will drive a wedge between England and America.”
To the northeast, a luminous cloud rose from Scapa Flow. “It will. Joshua and his friends did very well.”
To Cilla’s other side, the U-boat captain thumbed through several sheets of paper, selected one, and handed it to a sailor. “Radio Hamburg immediately.”
“Jawohl.” The sailor disappeared down into the hatch.
The U-boat could transmit messages only when surfaced, so Cilla didn’t have to go below quite yet. She tugged her coat sleeve over her wristwatch. She didn’t want to spend the last minutes of her life counting down to her death.
“Excellent work indeed,” Kraus said.
Cilla smiled in relief. The captain probably had a selection of messages at his disposal for a variety of situations, already enciphered. Right now, a message would be tapping over the airwaves stating they’d recovered their agent and had observed a spectacular set of explosions at Scapa Flow.
Cilla had saved her family and Double Cross, and she breathed out a prayer of gratitude.
The German sailors filed their way down the hatch, congratulating Cilla as they went. Kraus motioned for Cilla to go below.
She drew back. She’d rather die from the explosion or drowning or hypothermia than trapped in a sinking ship. “I—I think I’ll stay topside as long as possible.”
Kraus’s smile drifted down, and he glanced towardMar na Creag, bobbing lonesome on the waves not far away, then back at Cilla. His eyes narrowed. “Ja, the night is beautiful.”
Did he think she’d try to escape? From an armed U-boat? If her limpet mine didn’t explode, she might still face interrogation in Germany.
She forced a sunny laugh, then gave Kraus a mischievous smile. “I’d forgotten how much a U-boat stinks. This will be my last breath of fresh air for some time.”
He chuckled and rested his elbows on the railing. “Ja, the air is foul inside.”
Cilla leaned on the railing and drew a deep breath, savoring the night air. In the distance, moonlight glistened on the lighthouse atop Dunnet Head. Was Lachlan up there, observing the sabotage? Watching for the U-boat?
