Crush Depth by Joe Buff Page A

target. The Americans and British and the others we killed are the fools, for not thinking of the risks when they joined up, when they donned the uniform in what they thought was peacetime. There has been no peacetime, Gunther, not in a hundred, two hundredyears! Only lulls between battles, and the Anglo-Americans choose to call each battle a separate war. Now do you see?”
    “I think so, sir.” Ter Horst had made some very telling points.
    “Good. Good. It’s all very simple, really, when you look at it the right way. The world has a new policeman, fighting against corruption, decadence, social chaos, and pandemic disease. Fighting for national self-determination, order, truth. That new policeman is us, Gunther, the Berlin-Boer Axis.”
    Ter Horst offered Van Gelder more schnapps. This time Van Gelder declined, and ter Horst put away the bottle. It was from Germany, and tasted very good. Van Gelder decided to see if the schnapps had made ter Horst loosen up at all.
    “The last part of the briefings I’m to conduct, Captain? Our next destination?”
    “We’re going to deal the Americans the knockout blow…. The Axis doesn’t intend to occupy them. You know that’s never been our goal. Containment, diminishment, reduction to a second-rate vassal nation, those are our plans for America…. At the rate they’re going, German forces in the North Atlantic should have the British starved out soon. And Russia remains firm in her thinly disguised support for us, providing conventional arms, and raw materials and fuels, in exchange for gold and diamonds.”
    “Just where do we come in?”
    Ter Horst cleared his throat. “ Voortrekker is tasked to open up a whole new front. We’re going to expose the United States as completely naked and vulnerable, to undermine their will and ability to continue the fight, and, especially, win Asia over to the Axis side. Secret diplomatic efforts, ones I cannot disclose a thing to you about, are under way on several continents, timed to mesh with our next strike.”
    Van Gelder hesitated, very impressed. “But sir. We’re almost out of ammo.”
    Ter Horst waved dismissively again. “All that will be taken care of soon.”
    “ How, Captain?…Excuse me, I know I must be patient.”
    Van Gelder was surprised at himself for saying that. He realized ter Horst had had his desired effect. Van Gelder couldn’t help but let ter Horst continue his seduction, finish casting his spell. And by the time I run through all this five or six times with the men—each time making sure I sound as if I believe every word—he’ll have me totally brainwashed.
    Ter Horst looked Van Gelder right in the eyes, very hard.
    “You and I, Gunther. Together, and our crew. We’re the fulcrum, the pivot point. A supercapable nuclear-powered fast-attack submarine, fully armed with tactical atomic weapons you and I are eager to use…We’re going to run the Australia–New Zealand–Antarctic Gap, break out into the Pacific Ocean, and open a whole new front against America.”

EIGHT
    Simultaneously, at Dulles International Airport, Washington, D.C.
    S TRAPPED INTO THE rear of the cockpit, Ilse heard the purring of the fighter jet’s twin engines rise to a steady, insistent whine. The crew chief and Rachel Barrows saluted. Ilse waved, and the crew chief waved back. Barrows must know she can trust the crew chief. I’d hate it if he were a spy, and sabotaged us.
    Barrows closed and sealed the cockpit canopy. Ilse breathed deeply, slightly frightened yet almost giddy in anticipation of what was to come. Her oxygen mask smelled rubbery. The oxygen tasted metallic and felt cool and dry. It helped Ilse feel more alert.
    Barrows’s voice came over Ilse’s headphones. “I’ll leave the intercom mikes on so we can talk. We’ll maintain strict radio and radar silence, for obvious reasons.”
    The plane taxied some distance in the pitch-dark. The plane’s suspension was stiff; Ilse felt every bump and crack and