Salojin Writes

Home of U-Boat and other stories

Menu
  • Home
  • U-Boat
  • U-Boat Part 1
Menu

U-Boat Part 23

Posted on January 25, 2020January 25, 2020 by Salojin

The rest of Salvage Team was picked up before the hour ended and with far less excitement. Sloshing gently on the ocean, the ship was steady enough for Ke to climb aboard first and then help Perry and Wells on load the cumbersome black chest. Coasties began to look at them with a mixture of concern and regard, like a ground team watching a helicopter off load grizzled men from the field, the deck hands of the cutter had seen what it cost to acquire that crate. Hands came in from all directions and helped the team shed their equipment, stripping down to wetsuits so they could begin the process of heading back to port. Perry seemed to be moving the fastest, shrugging and shifting his way out from under his gear to gain freedom sooner.

“They’re both in the med-bay now,” came a voice from ahead of the crowd, Perry instinctively looked up to the bridge to see where Akin was addressing them from and was a little surprised to see him standing under the glowing orange-amber lights on the deck with the others. Akin was sporting a heavy shadow around one eye.

Perry couldn’t stop the smile from slicing across his face, “How’d that debrief go, commander?”

Debriefing is imperative, it’s imperative in a long laundry list of ways that make operational and strategic sense, but to men and women who have just come out of terrible moments in their lives the time to debrief can sometimes wait a moment or two. Akin had never understood the value of waiting. He wanted the information when it was freshest and most seared into memory. He may, he thought, perhaps, have been too eager in how he had questioned Tom.

“Poorly.” Said Akin, flatly.

Wells looked to see the damage in the weak deck lighting and let his smile show too, “Big country didn’t take too kindly to being asked so many questions?”

Akin’s stare shifted to Wells and even through the swelling of Akin’s black eye Wells could tell there was a farther reaching story to be told from the expression, “No, he did not.”

Ke, freshly shed of her equipment and standing in her wetsuit scanned the deck of the ship a noticed three things. The first thing she saw was that no one was going near the crate, which would make sense, no one knew what was in it except perhaps the brothers that nearly died getting it this far. The second thing was how somber everyone was behaving, as though they had just come from being pallbearers. Then she saw the last detail, the part that made everything make sense. Swept into a corner on the deck against the side rail was a cluster of distinct plastic and paper wrapping.

When Ke was younger, back before she had spent any time in the ocean, she had worked summers with the volunteer emergency medical services. Growing up in southern Maryland near Washington D.C. yielded an impressive patient load and the volunteers were always busy. Most of the time, the calls were simple issues and barely even required the word “emergency” be used in their titles, but occasionally there would be somebody rapidly descending into their final chapters right before the eyes of these volunteers. The experience had gotten her familiar with how death looked when it was found in a dim apartment on a hot summer day after a few weeks of waiting. She recognized the wrappers in the corner at once; packaging for sterile medical equipment – urgently needed sterile medical equipment for advanced measures.

Ke did not speak to anyone; she stoically strode past the deck crew and Akin, away from Perry and Wells, and into the nearest hatch to descend toward the medical bay. Whoever was hurt was her concern.

Perry called after her, “Aren’t you gonna debrief with us?”

Akin held up a hand, his time stationed with the Coasties around him had given him some insight, insight that he typically ignored or considered of minimal value, but as his eye pulsed and throbbed with aching pain he was beginning to reevaluate his stance on understanding personalities. “She’s one of the medical staff and part of the rescue dive teams, they could use her down in the med-bay.”

Wells, free of the heavy rigging, sat down next to the crate and wondered how much the treasure chest had cost. “How bad is it?”

Akin offered a well meaning shrug, the most emotion they had seen from the man in all their short time together. Perry thought for a moment, gauging what the next steps should be. The crate had to be opened, that was certain. He wasn’t concerned for a bomb, or at least it didn’t make sense for the U-boat crew to hand off a bomb. If the fellows in the ancient dive suits had wanted to kill Salvage Team they had certainly had all the opportunities. No, thought Perry, the Brunhilde wanted this crate top side and they didn’t leave it out on the side of the ship to be found or risk it never being found. Before anyone could stop him, Perry turned and knelt at the side of the crate, punching the latches unlocked and pushed the heavy lid open. Wells leaned a bit to the side, he had not gone through the same mental exercise has his dive partner. The rest of the deck hands reacted similarly, some even shouting. Perry looked into the crate a moment before glaring at Akin.

“How bad are they, Akin?” He said, a flat annoyance in his tone.

Akin sighed, walking toward Perry, his good eye peering at the crate in the industrial glow of the deck lighting, “Doc says it’s hard to tell how long Paul went without air. Said his heart was beating slowly and softly. They have him on a ventilator down below and we’ve called for medevac. Tom’s got internal hemorrhage in his abdomen. Doctor cannot tell how extensive the bleeding is without imaging, so he’s also getting a ride out. ETA is probably five or ten minutes.” Perry looked back into the crate and shook his head slightly, Wells leaned back and looked in as well. “So what I’m hearing is that one guy probably has brain damage and the other is gonna need organ surgery all to recover some Nazi diaries?” Well’s was mirthless in his delivery.

Neatly organized and tightly packed into the crate were rows of black bound leather books. Along the spine of each book were ascending dates, from “3-JAN-44” to “1-SEP-16”. Akin looked across the deck and loudly asked:

“Anyone up here read German?”

Leave a Reply Cancel reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

New? Start Here!

U-Boat Chapter 1

Categories

  • U-Boat (64)
  • Uncategorized (1)

Recent Posts

  • U-Boat Part 64
  • U-Boat Part 63
  • U-Boat Part 62
  • U-Boat Part 61
  • U-Boat Part 60
  • U-Boat Part 59
  • U-Boat Part 58
  • U-Boat Part 57
  • U-Boat Part 56
  • U-Boat Part 55
  • U-Boat Part 54
  • U-Boat Part 53
  • U-Boat Part 52
  • U-Boat Part 51
  • U-Boat Part 50
  • U-Boat Part 49
  • U-Boat Part 48
  • U-Boat Part 47
  • U-Boat Part 46
  • U-Boat Part 45

Recent Comments

    ©2025 Salojin Writes | WordPress Theme by Superbthemes.com