Assassin's Honor (9781561648207) (12 page)

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Second, inform my steward we will be inviting the German captain and two of his officers to luncheon in my cabin at one o'clock. Something typically American, like grits, for the meal. Commander Gardiner and Lieutenant Commander Warfield will attend the luncheon and need an invitation. It will last until at least three p.m. and the uniform will be tropical white dress.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Third, please make sure
Bennington
is squared away and looking like a proper man-o-war.”

“Aye, aye, sir,” said Lambert. Then, with a sly grin, he added, “Should I do anything particular with our guns, sir?”

As the ship's gunnery officer, Lambert was especially fond of his “persuaders,” as he referred to our main battery of six-inch guns. The secondary battery of light six-pounder quick-firing guns were his “little babies.”

“Some quick-loading drills would look impressive.”

That made the lieutenant's grin spread from ear to ear.
“Impressive, indeed, sir. Aye, aye. What's the fourth thing, sir?”

“I want you to quietly go ashore while the German officers are having lunch with us. Your official reason will be to inquire about the history of the ruins, for a report to go to the Smithsonian Institution in Washington—which you will, in fact, compose. Your real reason, however, is to find the local head man and make arrangements to get a sealed confidential message from me to a man named Dzul—he is the regional leader—and make sure they know the message is extremely urgent. I will give it to you in a few minutes. Understood, so far?”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Good. Questions?”

“No, sir.”

“Very well. Just for your information, this man Dzul is also the chief Mayan rebel leader in these parts. The message is a request for an immediate meeting with me tomorrow morning at ten a.m. in the lagoon away from sight of the warships—but do not tell anyone in the village of that.”

“Yes, sir. And number five?”

“On your way to shore, have a private talk with Captain Wilson of the
Marie
. A very serious private talk. Inform him his country's navy needs the coal in his ship right away in Key West. He will get under way today, right after you leave his ship, and upon arrival at Key West he will report to Rear Admiral Walker in
Chicago
. There will be no financial loss, and in fact the U.S. Navy will pay him one and a half times what the Germans had contracted for, once he presents the German invoice as proof. I will give you a cover letter signed by me for Wilson to present to Admiral Walker.”

I said my next words slowly. “Lieutenant Lambert, you will make sure Wilson agrees to this and complies immediately. No hesitation. No explanation to the German warship. I will personally explain it to the Germans for Wilson when they come to lunch. Understood completely?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good. After you get all this done and return to the ship, report back to me on your results.”

With the same grim look as when he had taken
Bennington
off the wharf in Key West, Lambert carefully repeated each of my instructions and I acknowledged them.

As I turned to go below, I added, “Remember, Mr. Lambert—it is imperative all this gets done
quietly
.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

As he turned to go, I thought Gideon Lambert just might be the kind of man ONI could use in the future. This would be an excellent test of his abilities.

Xel-ha Anchorage, Mexico

Tuesday afternoon

13 December 1892

It turned out my impression was correct, for Ensign Pocket did understand a bit of German, so I had him come along with me to the
Gneisenau
. He was to scrutinize the German warship, not let on he had some of their lingo, and listen to their conversations, alert for any signs of preparation for impending battle. He was also to see if a civilian was onboard and look for indications of a meeting with the locals ashore.

Our arrival was received in the precise Teutonic fashion I had seen in the Pacific. As I climbed the boarding ladder, a crescendo of action erupted when my head rose above the main deck. Petty officers twittered their pipes, a line of side boys came to stiff-backed attention, the officers of the watch clicked their heels and rendered the salute, and all aboard stopped what they were doing, stood up straight, and faced the quarterdeck. The Royal Navy of Queen Victoria herself would be hard pressed to surpass
the performance.

While my junior was immediately diverted to the German wardroom—there to be plied with gin and other intoxicants in the reciprocal of what Rork had done at Key West—I was shown to the commanding officer's cabin.

A warship captain's quarters function as more than his home. It is also his office and his diplomatic salon. The space is designed to impress foreign visitors, not just with the hospitality of their host, but by the grandeur and power of his navy. The intent is intimidation in its most subtle form.

The Kreigsmarine of imperial Germany had certainly succeeded in that effort with the captain's cabin of
Gneisenau
, which proved to be an even more luxurious version of my own embarrassingly lavish quarters. Palatial is not too strong a word for it—plush red carpets, soft black leather sofa and chairs, dark blue satin curtains, polished coffee tables, intricate nautical artwork on the paneled bulkheads, magnificent crystal and china displayed around the cherrywood dining table, and a desk fit for an admiral. Rear Admiral Walker would be jealous of the place. I reminded myself to give him a detailed description, just to see his reaction.

As protocol required, I introduced myself upon entering the cabin. “
Guten morgen, Kapitän
. I am Commander Peter Wake, captain of the United States Ship
Bennington
. Regrettably, sir, I cannot speak German beyond a simple greeting, and I fear I may have not even said that especially well. I look forward to making your acquaintance, and offer any and all assistance while we are in your ship's company.”

The captain, a barrel-chested man of medium height with thin lips and eyes, and his number two, a thin man with nervous mannerisms, both greeted me with profound handshakes, as if we were long-lost friends.

“Not to worry, Commander Wake,” replied the captain. “I can converse in the language of Shakespeare, for I trained at the academy at Dartmouth with our cousins, the English. I am
FregattenKapitan Heinst Blau, the captain of
Gneisenau
. And this is KapitanLeutnant Otto Eichermann, my executive officer who, like you, can also only speak simple greetings in your language. Welcome onboard our humble ship. May I offer you some refreshment? I am happy to report even after traveling four thousand kilometers, our gin is not that bad.”

I dislike gin intensely, can't even stand the smell, but Brits and Germans love the stuff and it is de rigueur to accept a taste when offered.

“Thank you very much, sir, but only one small glass, please. I have a lot of reports to go over and then some disciplinary decisions to make when I return.” I shrugged—one navy's captain commiserating with another. “I find a clear head is better for these things, particularly the disciplinary decisions.”

Blau nodded sympathetically. “Ah, yes, naval discipline. It is the unforgiving, but necessary, foundation of any true warship. Where would we be without it? You know, we saw your ship at Key West, Commander. How ironic we are both here now. May I ask what brings
Bennington
to this backward area of Mexico?”

I gave another shrug, as I lied through my teeth. “Oh, our assignment here is just the mundane and never-ending work of coastal survey, sir. Charting the currents, and also sending some ethnological reports about the Mayan ruins to the scientists at the Smithsonian Institution.”

I let out a commiserating sigh and added a baited hook to the conversation. “And, no doubt, right when I am busy with all these others things, some missionary or trader will probably demand passage back to the United States, which I will have to provide. That happens all the time to us. I suppose you have German citizens demanding passage on your warships, too?”

Blau didn't bite the hook. “No. That would be strictly prohibited, except in an emergency.”

Hmm
, I thought.
What would constitute an emergency, then?
Then I got to the main point. “Ah, yes, you are fortunate in that regard then, sir. So what brings your magnificent ship here?”

“Coaling from the collier we met here on this savage coast last night. Then we go onward with our mission to register our countrymen who live along the Mexican coastline. It is an annual duty.” Blau shook his head in self-pity. “Yet another example of the unappreciated work performed by the navy for the fatherland.”

“I didn't know German émigrés lived here.”

“They are scattered along the coast, but mostly to the north of this place.”

“Really, I thought in this coast of Yucatan there is only the rebel leader Dzul, and his Mayans. Interesting fellow—do you know of him?”

Blau immediately said, “I do not know the local bandits of Mexico. I am here for my assignment, disagreeable as it is.”

The whole thing sounded like a lie to me, but I nodded in solemn agreement. “I think no one back in our homelands really understands or cares about what we have to endure out here in the savage areas of the world.”

“So true,” Blau said. “They are comfortably ignorant.”

I bowed slightly and said, “I will be disposing of my administrative duties by the end of the morning and would be greatly honored if you would be my guest for a luncheon in my cabin at one o'clock, sir. Please bring two of your officers along. It will be an excellent opportunity for the officers of our two navies to get acquainted.”

It was Blau's turn to bow. “It will be our great pleasure, Commander Wake. Thank you for the kind invitation. We very much look forward to seeing a ship and crew of the American Navy. Your ships are so unique, but then so is your country, of course.”

He said it with a smile, but it came out as condescending.

“It's always a pleasure for us to entertain, though I must say in advance we aren't as splendidly furnished as you. Our accommodations are rather Spartan in comparison. Our Congress and president prefer their warships them that way . . . 
for the obvious reasons, of course.”

Captain Blau bowed curtly in response, all the while maintaining his damned smile.

Xel-ha Anchorage, Mexico

Tuesday afternoon

13 December 1892

Norton Gardiner had his faults, but he did have the ability to put on a good show for visiting brass. This he had done for the British in Jamaica and Barbados, the Dutch in Curaçao, and the French in Martinique. I ordered him to do so for the Germans.

When the official welcoming pomp was done, Gardiner guided the obligatory tour of our ship—with a close look at her guns. They received approving nods from our guests, who were then shown to the table in my cabin. The Germans did not disguise their surprised low impression of my quarters. The cabin was simplistic when compared to European counterparts, for in the U.S. Navy the captain, not the government, furnishes his living space.

I opened the luncheon with a toast. “To His Imperial Majesty, Kaiser Wilhelm the second, ruler of the worldwide
empire of Germany. May he enjoy a long and successful life.”

Blau responded in a booming voice. “And to His Excellency Benjamin Harrison, President of the United States of North America! May he also enjoy a long and prosperous and peaceful life.”

I caught the dig, loud and clear, though no outward indication of intentional insult was apparent on part of the German. He had done it quite nonchalantly, in fact. Blau's round face was beaming, the limiting descriptor “North” was not accentuated, and the other German officers didn't appear to react. Not so with the Americans, however. Gardiner looked confused, Warfield glowered, and I felt my jaw tighten.