Stealing Trinity by Ward Larsen Page B
Authors: Ward Larsen
Tags: United States, Fiction, Suspense, Historical, Thrillers, Mystery & Detective, Suspense fiction, Espionage, Intelligence Officers, Germany, Nazis, Great Britain, spies, spy stories, Spies - Germany, Atomic Bomb - United States, Intelligence Officers - Great Britain, Spies - United States, Manhattan Project (U.S.)
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Lydia. "I'd invite you as well dear, but the forecast is for strong southeasterlies -- it might be rough."
Lydia said,"You know I dont enjoy the nasty weather, darling."
"Alex, what do you say? I suppose you haven t been on a boat in some time."
Having just spent nearly two weeks crashing across the Atlantic on a U-boat, Braun smiled. He had always regarded sailing as an aimless discipline. Drifting slowly, the wind blowing you where it wanted. It was far too serendipitous. He preferred to live by design. On the other hand, he had nothing more pressing.
Braun looked at Edward and beamed. "Why not?"
PART II
Chapter 14.
Two weeks. Two frustrating weeks. Thatcher again made his way down the hall to the Records Section. He'd averaged six hours a day there, pouring over rosters from the British and American POW camps. There were millions of names, thousands of lists. Some were organized alphabetically, some by rank, and others not at all. So far he'd found no Alexander Braun. It weighed on Thatcher that the man might have used a false name. It weighed on him that Braun could have been taken in a Red sector -- if so, he'd likely never be heard from again. Even with a lack of new arrivals, other work was accumulating on Thatcher's desk. Perhaps it was a wild-goose chase, as Roger had insisted. As the American Jones would have him believe.
He decided to give it one more day. If he didn't find anything, he'd move on. Passing through the office entrance, a lethargic young sergeant greeted him.
"Mornin', Major. Back for more?"
Thatcher was about to answer when he stopped abruptly. He turned and glanced at the open door. Something, but what? He stared at the words stenciled onto the wood: records section. He then shifted to what was beneath. C-18. Room C-18. Something about it stirred his gray matter. U-801. Letters and numbers. They could be used for many things. U-801. Klein had assumed it was a filing note. Thatcher scurried into the room.
"I must know if the Germans had a submarine designated U-801. If so, I need to find out where it is now."
The clerk at the desk yawned, his breath laced with coffee. "I thought you was lookin' for a bloke, sir."
Thatcher gave a hard stare.
"Right," the sergeant said. He meandered into a back room, reappearing five long minutes later. He plopped a file on the counter. "If it's the German Navy you're after, these'd be all the messages we have. They're not separated -- some are confirmed sinkings, some ships were captured, and the rest surrendered. Goes back for years."
"What if I need to find the crew of a particular boat?"
The man shrugged. "Best of luck, sir. One or two might have crew manifests attached."
"If I want to find a specific captain?"
"I suppose most mention the commanding officers, aside from the ones that went down."
"And if I find a name, can we locate that person?"
The sergeant smiled wryly. "If we got to him before the Russians? Piece of cake, just like that other one you're lookin' for. Only about two million names on the prisoner of war rosters."
"All right. First we'll concentrate on the boat."
The sergeant's smile evaporated as Thatcher cut the thick stack and shoved half his way.
"We? You want me to get on with this?"
"We're looking for U-801. With any luck, she's surrendered or been captured in the last few weeks."
Thatcher pulled up a chair and dove into his stack. When the enlisted man didn't follow suit he shot the man a pointed look. Soon both were scouring a thousand messages in search of a single boat.
The break came after four hours.
"Bollocks!" The sergeant waved a message. "U-801. She surrendered to an American destroyer off the coast of Cape Cod, in the States. Two weeks ago. They escorted her to the Naval Air Station Quonset Point. The boat was given up and the crew interned."
"So she did go to America!" Thatcher said excitedly. He thought it through. "And she turned herself over in America for one of two reasons. They were either low on
Lydia said,"You know I dont enjoy the nasty weather, darling."
"Alex, what do you say? I suppose you haven t been on a boat in some time."
Having just spent nearly two weeks crashing across the Atlantic on a U-boat, Braun smiled. He had always regarded sailing as an aimless discipline. Drifting slowly, the wind blowing you where it wanted. It was far too serendipitous. He preferred to live by design. On the other hand, he had nothing more pressing.
Braun looked at Edward and beamed. "Why not?"
PART II
Chapter 14.
Two weeks. Two frustrating weeks. Thatcher again made his way down the hall to the Records Section. He'd averaged six hours a day there, pouring over rosters from the British and American POW camps. There were millions of names, thousands of lists. Some were organized alphabetically, some by rank, and others not at all. So far he'd found no Alexander Braun. It weighed on Thatcher that the man might have used a false name. It weighed on him that Braun could have been taken in a Red sector -- if so, he'd likely never be heard from again. Even with a lack of new arrivals, other work was accumulating on Thatcher's desk. Perhaps it was a wild-goose chase, as Roger had insisted. As the American Jones would have him believe.
He decided to give it one more day. If he didn't find anything, he'd move on. Passing through the office entrance, a lethargic young sergeant greeted him.
"Mornin', Major. Back for more?"
Thatcher was about to answer when he stopped abruptly. He turned and glanced at the open door. Something, but what? He stared at the words stenciled onto the wood: records section. He then shifted to what was beneath. C-18. Room C-18. Something about it stirred his gray matter. U-801. Letters and numbers. They could be used for many things. U-801. Klein had assumed it was a filing note. Thatcher scurried into the room.
"I must know if the Germans had a submarine designated U-801. If so, I need to find out where it is now."
The clerk at the desk yawned, his breath laced with coffee. "I thought you was lookin' for a bloke, sir."
Thatcher gave a hard stare.
"Right," the sergeant said. He meandered into a back room, reappearing five long minutes later. He plopped a file on the counter. "If it's the German Navy you're after, these'd be all the messages we have. They're not separated -- some are confirmed sinkings, some ships were captured, and the rest surrendered. Goes back for years."
"What if I need to find the crew of a particular boat?"
The man shrugged. "Best of luck, sir. One or two might have crew manifests attached."
"If I want to find a specific captain?"
"I suppose most mention the commanding officers, aside from the ones that went down."
"And if I find a name, can we locate that person?"
The sergeant smiled wryly. "If we got to him before the Russians? Piece of cake, just like that other one you're lookin' for. Only about two million names on the prisoner of war rosters."
"All right. First we'll concentrate on the boat."
The sergeant's smile evaporated as Thatcher cut the thick stack and shoved half his way.
"We? You want me to get on with this?"
"We're looking for U-801. With any luck, she's surrendered or been captured in the last few weeks."
Thatcher pulled up a chair and dove into his stack. When the enlisted man didn't follow suit he shot the man a pointed look. Soon both were scouring a thousand messages in search of a single boat.
The break came after four hours.
"Bollocks!" The sergeant waved a message. "U-801. She surrendered to an American destroyer off the coast of Cape Cod, in the States. Two weeks ago. They escorted her to the Naval Air Station Quonset Point. The boat was given up and the crew interned."
"So she did go to America!" Thatcher said excitedly. He thought it through. "And she turned herself over in America for one of two reasons. They were either low on
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