Alpha Threat by Ron Smoak Page B

that you want to hear?”
    Grimme looked sternly at Adler.   He thought Adler was a traitor.   If this so-called captain said that back in Germany, he would be arrested and shot within hours.   But they were far from home.   He thought of the consequences of shooting Adler himself.   He decided to let the comment pass.   There was time later to deal with this U-boat pig.   
    Grimme fixed a bleak smile upon his face.   “While the war has its inevitable ups and downs, all loyal Germans know we will be victorious in the end.   Our Führer will lead us to a glorious victory.”
    Adler looked at Grimme as if Grimme was crazy.   Actually, Adler thought he was crazy.   But who cares in this place.   
    Several soldiers grabbed a narrow wooden gangplank and placed one end on the U-boat deck and the other on the dock.   Adler noticed that the gangplank was very heavy.   It took six men to manhandle it into place.   The first of the crates were beginning to come up from below.   The crewmen pushed the crates across the deck and down the gangplank.    It was then that Adler spotted the heavily armed SS troops that appeared from nowhere lining the shore on both sides of the dock.   Adler surveyed the SS.   Whatever he was delivering in these crates must be damned important for such a show of force here in the middle of nowhere.   
    Trox stepped toward Adler.   “Captain, as soon as your cargo is loaded and checked, you will be free to go.”
    “Thank you, Leutnant,” answered Adler.
    Major Bayer was standing beside Adler.   He could smell the stench of the U-boat captain and his men after the long voyage.   Many days of being confined in the U-boat with other sweaty, dirty men were not pleasant.   U-boat sailors in general were proud of their aroma.   For the life of him, Bayer could not figure why a man would want to be cooped up in a submarine without adequate bathing facilities and not seeing the light of day for so long.   These guys are just crazy, he thought.  
     

CHAPTER TWELVE
     
     
    Wednesday, May 9, 1945
     
    A Small Secluded Cove on the Southern Coast of Brazil;   9:55 p.m.
     
     
     
    The unloading took nearly two hours.   All the while, Leutnant Udo Trox meticulously counted and recorded each crate unloaded from the U-boat, carried down the pier and loaded on the trucks.   All of this under the scrutiny of Major Bayer, Captain Adler and the ever-present Gestapo, Karl Grimme.  
    With the last crate on the truck, Trox rechecked his tally and conferred with the other three.  
    “I have forty-two crates recorded.   Is that the same number you have, Captain Adler?”
    Adler reached inside his grimy shirt pocket and took out a small piece of paper and unfolded it.   “Yes, forty-two crates.   Correct.”
    Grimme interjected, “Forty-two crates is exactly what you should have, Captain Adler,” checking his tally.   “You have done your job very well, Captain.   Please give my compliments to your crew.   Your job here is complete.”    Grimme turned to one of his SS troopers and motioned to him.
    “Captain Adler, after your long voyage I am sure you and your crew need some fresh provisions.   I have taken the liberty to provide you with several cases of fresh milk, eggs and fruit.   I trust you can use this?”  
    Adler’s face broke into a smile.   “Why, yes, we certainly could use fresh food.   We’ve not had fresh provisions in quite a while.   Sea rations are not the tastiest of food.”   For a moment, Adler thought that this Gestapo goon might not be as bad as he thought.   Regardless, he and the crew would eat well tonight.   This simple pleasure made life good!  
    As the trucks loaded with the crates began to leave another truck backed up to the end of the pier filled with supplies.    
    Adler turned to find his first officer.   “Mr. Hientz, make ready to take on fresh provisions.”
    “Yes, sir,” Hientz replied with a wide grin. “Yes