“You see at the cost of one battle ship you could create six or seven more agile and more cunning U-Boats. Their biggest drawback is how defenseless they are. They can’t have the heavy plating of the battle ships, they can’t carry the compliment of weapon systems for defense as the floating fortress. The U-Boat is an assassins dagger, and if the knights ever catch him he has to rely on speed and cunning to escape.”
Kessler remembered Sajer’s words. The departed captain had understood much more of the war than he had let on for others to believe. The Frenchman turned German had studied everything he could get his eyes into from The Great War, learning to understand and guide the next generation of sub-surface war machines. Kessler’s first great love of the sea had been the British Dreadnought class battleships. Lumbering, lined with every munition known to man and new weapons never before experienced, the British Navy was an impressive and important gem in the crown of the English King. It would take the stumbling and contested Battle of Skagerrak to finally open Kessler’s 8 year old eyes to the failings of speed over armor. The young man never forgot that lesson, learned at the cost of thousands of lives, that speed matters for nothing if your opponent does not miss.
In his early career in the submarine forces, Kessler would routinely advise for caution. His suggestion was always simple: if you can not escape your Hunter, do not steal from them. If ever there were supply ships flanked with destroyer escorts he would avoid them. If ever there were clear skies for flying days, he would keep the ship under the waves. He would keep his crew and craft invisible until the very last moment. In fact, many of the allied merchants he sank were believed to have been potentially lost to storms or uneasy seas. Kessler’s kills were so thuroughly and obsessively clean that he never once risked being chased down, but his list of sunk tonnage was abysmal when compared to the likes of Sajer or others. Sajer relied on cunning and clever dancing to hide his tracks and cover his crew, the Frenchmen secretly loved reaching out like a killer whale and plucking an unsuspecting kill from the surface before dipping under and into the black.
Kessler learned that being cautious was a game for a different kind of playing field. During the Cold War Kessler found his calling and his gift for cautious and surgical strikes being put to good use. The Soviets and Americans would constantly hide and “tag” one another, playing chicken with nuclear war. One ship would stalk another and one ship would lure the other toward a hunter-killer submarine. It was hide and seek in the dark with knives, but if you drew real blood there would be hell to pay. Kessler had done everything he could to avoid trouble from both his new navy and the Soviets whom he had to corral into better behavior. His time as a silent wandering stalker in the deep had been a gift to the US Navy, who used him time and time again on the most aggresive runs.
The ancient chief, however, never found better company than the SEALs. Hochberg could recall the days of being the engine deck petty officer, of being the big brother to three or four terrified boys when the depth charges rattled everything. The closeness of men who worked together to fight and survive was intoxicating when he was a young man, and as he became the age of the father of those around him he became more and more protective of his lads. It took the near perfect leadership and guidance of Sajer to let Hochberg climb out of Brunhilde, abandoning those boys. He had lived everyday thereafter hoping they had served their lives well and that their captain had not led them astray. The old chief tried everything he could to atone for his actions, volunteering for the science project, returning to the sea as an advisor, and then eventually settling on joining the fight at its most personal. His first day at BUDS had been memorable as his English was only moderately acceptable and his instructors were told he was a Duetsche Speizal Krafte operator. Truthfully, the only advantage Hochberv had was his enhanced strength and near limitless endurance, and that only helped for ten percent of the fire they put him through.
Hochberg wasn’t sure if there was a heaven or hell, but he knew that if a hell existed that the BUDS instructors would certainly take it over after a few minutes of arriving and revamping the torture.
His wide arms folded across his chest and his fingers touched the handle of the Luger, it’s familair shape a comfort to his busy and crowded mind.
Perry leaned foward for Wells to inspect one last series of switches and locking mechanisms, Wells giving a thumbs up before offering his back to Perry. Ke and one of the medical SEALs gave each other a fist bump and she trotted over to Hochberg to squat down beside him, going through her equipment silently. Kessler checked his watch and sighed very deeply. Somewhere in the unseen depths, a light humming sound sang quietly.
The Pennsylvania was being stalked.