Tidal Rip

negate our new regime’s most fundamental ideology, that we’re resisting America’s single-superpower tyranny and restoring social order in Europe and at the same time saving countless lives in Africa from AIDS and starvation and tribal slaughter. It would escalate the war beyond any means of further control!”

Von Loringhoven stared coldly at Beck. “It’s the victors who write the history and sculpt future public opinion. Ideological doctrines serve the purposes of empire, not the other way around. A smashing success here forces a rapid armistice, and possible escalation is quenched. These knife-edge calculations have propelled our New Order forward from the start. The outcome now remains to be seen…. You say the message refers to contingency plans?”

“Yes…”

“Stop being evasive.”

“We might be ordered to transfer the crated bombs soon so our local supporters can start an offensive before the elected Argentine government suppresses the pro-Axis coup.” Beck knew he sounded very uncomfortable.

“Then we yet have a window to regain lost ground and achieve our initial objectives, if we’re told to act decisively. Go on.”

“I’m reading between the lines, the message is vague. But I do have considerable knowledge of what it means when naval orders are phrased, or not phrased, in a particular way.”

And I may be projecting my own dreads into the minds of those in charge in Berlin… some of whom, I suspect, are wilder extremists than even the baron.

“I said, stop being evasive.”

Beck walked up to von Loringhoven and stood nose to nose with the arrogant man, right there in the Zentrale. “You really want to know what I think, or guess, or conjecture? I think High Command in Berlin is split into factions right now. I think some influential people there aren’t willing to accept defeat in Argentina so readily. I think they might even order us north of the Rio de la Plata estuary ourselves, to give the tottering coup leaders a boost by fait accompli. We cut the locals out of the loop, pretend that we’re one of their submarines, and launch nuclear cruise missiles at Brazil from von Scheer. Fifty million people could be dead before midnight.”

Beck saw Stissinger blanch; his own guts were twisting; most of the crewmen around him seemed truly horrified for the first time. Beck’s grim statement of the stark outcome they might together bring to pass by their own hands stripped away any last chance for detachment with harsh rapidity.

The captain turned back to von Loringhoven and jabbed a finger angrily in his chest. “Does that thought make you happy, Baron? It scares the hell out of me.”

Alone in the captain’s stateroom, Jeffrey and Bell discussed the latest situation, what little they knew of it. The lack of further information was wearing. Since da Gama — at Jeffrey’s urging — had agreed in advance to make a big announcement if Felix succeeded, accusations and counteraccusations would be flying thick and heavy between Brazil and Argentina, and inside Argentina too. Bell speculated — accurately, Jeffrey thought — that dozens of other nations must be looking on in amazement or shock. The opinions of many neutrals, and the decisions of some to choose sides, hung in the balance these next few hours.

What was going on in Berlin now was anybody’s guess, and half of that was Jeffrey’s fault by design, because he really wanted to get Beck’s goat.

Privately Jeffrey dearly hoped he’d sink the von Scheer very soon. Some of what I did in Rio, I went over about sixteen admirals’ and joint chiefs’ and service secretaries’ heads. It could all backfire, if any German A-bombs still get sent ashore. If so, given the ways of the navy, everything will be on my head — and I can kiss a promising career good-bye. Retribution from above will be swift and cruel…. I might even be court-martialed, assuming there’s enough of civilization left to care.

Jeffrey had another surge of guilt. If he’d sunk the von Scheer at the Rocks as he was supposed to, none of this would be happening. He’d be busy protecting the convoy, with the Imperial German Navy minus its new ceramic-hulled submarine. I might even be court-martialed for that failure, if we somehow get through this crisis and there’s enough of a stink about it on Capitol Hill that the navy feels they need a fall guy — me. The convoy is suffering added losses because I’m heading for Argentina and not near Africa now — and I’m not near Africa because I didn’t sink Beck earlier.

Jeffrey could see that Bell was confused by his odd silence, and by the play of emotions across his face. He apologized, then returned to business. “You see what I’m trying to do here, XO?”

“Captain?”

“Remember what Admiral Mahan said a hundred years ago. ‘The purpose of seapower is to influence events on land.’”

Bell nodded. Mahan’s writings were classic, revered, though sometimes misunderstood. He’d taught at the Naval War College late in his life, and tried to make sense of the lessons of previous centuries of naval history.

“I’m playing it backward,” Jeffrey said. “Trying to use events on land to influence seapower.”

“Captain?”

“Turn poor old Mahan on his head… By heightening the disarray on land in Argentina, we helped pin down our seapower opponent, von Scheer, near Mar del Plata, to increase our own ship’s safety from her as a threat.”

Bell got it. “And then by taking away the von Scheer’s reason for being here, by wrecking their stolen-atom-bomb charade, and helping unmask the Argentine fascists and hopefully getting them all put in prison or shot, you completely remove Beck’s reason for being near SouthAmerica.”

“We force him back toward Africa under time pressure.”

Bell hesitated. “You don’t think he’ll go for the Falklands? Nuke them while he’s over here? The Royal Navy base, Berlin might see that as a legitimate target.”

Jeffrey shook his head. “It wouldn’t be a decisive stroke, and would take him much too far out of his way. He needs to get back to Africa while our relief convoy is still at sea and vulnerable.”

“I wish I knew how they’re doing.”

“So do I, XO. Believe me.”

Bell thought. “Okay. Captain, so you turn Mahan bass-ackwards, if all goes well.”

“If all goes well. For the moment what happens is beyond our control. I feel like we’re caught in a giant tidal rip. You know, that dangerous place where the ocean meets the coast? Where the undertow can grab you and people drown?”

“Understood. And tides can flow in either direction, and so can tidal rips…. But if all does go well, and peace prevails in South America, and von Scheer turns back toward Africa, how do we ever find her before it’s too late and she launches at the convoy? There’s a symbolic tidal rip on the other side of the South Atlantic too, Captain. We struck out completely on the way over here. After the Rocks we never once made contact on Beck’s ship…. How do we keep the same thing from happening twice, going back east?”

“I haven’t figured that out yet.”

“What if Berlin loses it, goes completely nuts, and orders von Scheer to attack Brazil directly? They’re mentally committed, and politically badly embarrassed, and to maintain power at home the German High Command might go that far. Your Mahan twist is a kick in their teeth too.”

“I know it, XO. You’re giving voice to my worst fears.”

“What then, Skipper?”

“If they accept what amounts to my brinkmanship double dare, and order Beck to push the button, then God help us all.” It’s not like I had any choice, or could only go halfway. To drive Beck off I needed to test every last inch of the risk envelope. I also had to try to badly rattle the German captain’s nerves.

“God helps those who help themselves,” Bell pressed.

“That’s why we’re heading toward Argentina.”

“Minutes count. We’re hundreds of miles away from the von Scheer’s probable location, sir. Other fast-attacks as reinforcements couldn’t get here for hours or days.”

“Yeah.”