Meanwhile, aboard the British destroyer HMS Harvester, Captain Albert stood tall on the bridge, his eyes scanning the horizon through the thick lenses of his binoculars. The salt spray from the Atlantic clung to his uniform, the briny wind whipping through the bridge. His face was hard, lined with years of battle. He hated the Germans with a deep, almost personal intensity. To him, every U-boat captain was a "German bastard," and each one that slipped through his fingers felt like a personal insult.
Officers, Jhon, approached cautiously. "Captain, do you think the U-boat will go for the convoy? It's unescorted, and… we've left it exposed."
Albert chuckled darkly, not taking his eyes off the horizon. "You don't understand these German bastards, Jhon. They're not stupid. They're cunning—like wolves. They sniff out danger, and they won't bite until they're sure. Trust me, that U-boat captain isn't going to fall for it."
Jhon, uneasy, pressed further. "But Captain, if they do strike, if you're wrong about this, we'll have left a convoy defenceless. The consequences could be severe."
Albert's face hardened, the hatred for his enemies clear in his eyes. "I know what I'm doing. The Germans—those damned rats—are cunning, but they're predictable. They're playing right into my hands. Kapitänleutnant," he sneered, saying the name like a curse, "he thinks he's outsmarting us by staying cautious. But I've got a surprise for him. He's a coward. And that's where we've got him. He's going to sit there, pass that convoy by, and keep on his merry way."
Albert leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a chilling, calculated whisper. "We're leading him straight to us. Let the convoy sail. If he has any of the arrogance the Germans are known for—an almost fanatical pride in their own intelligence and power—he won't attack blindly. They've built an empire on the belief that their strategic genius and military might are unrivalled. He'll wait for us. And when he does, I'll be ready."
Jhon, though still sceptical, nodded and stepped back. "It's a dangerous game, Captain."
Albert chuckled, turning his gaze back to the sea. "The most dangerous game, Jhon. But that's why I'm here. To sink every last one of those Nazi bastards." His face twisted in a hateful scowl. "I've been hunting them for years. These U-boats are pests—cowards hiding beneath the waves. But we'll flush them out, one by one. And when we do, I'll be there to blow them out of the water."
He slammed his hand down on the railing of the bridge, the steel vibrating under the force of his hatred. "He won't know what hit him. I'll send that German scum to the bottom of the Atlantic, just like the rest."
Back on the U-boat, Müller's instincts were on edge. The convoy ship was harmless, but that was exactly what felt wrong. The British weren't stupid, and they wouldn't leave a convoy alone unless there was a deeper strategy in play.
Richter muttered, "It's a shame, Captain. An easy target right there, and we're just letting it slip by."
Müller clenched his jaw. "There's nothing easy about this. It's a decoy, a trick. We're staying on course, and we'll make our move when we're ready."
Richter raised an eyebrow. "You really think they'd go this far just to lure us out?"
Müller turned to face him fully, his eyes cold and calculating. "They've done worse. The British are desperate to sink us. And if you were them, wouldn't you risk a convoy to take out one of us?"
Richter fell silent, realizing the truth in his captain's words. They all felt it—the tension, the invisible noose tightening around them.
As the U-boat silently skimmed across the surface, recharging its batteries under the calm, sunlit sky, Müller remained at the tower, eyes scanning for any sign of trouble. His gut told him that the true danger lay ahead, lurking just out of sight. He only hoped his crew could stay focused and ready for the storm that was about to come.
On the HMS Harvester, chaos erupted as the radioman dashed through the narrow corridors, breathless and frantic. He navigated past seamen, his heart pounding in his chest. "Where's Captain Albert?" he gasped, desperation in his voice.
A seaman, leaning against the bulkhead, pointed toward the deck. "Up top! He's on watch!"
The radioman sprinted up the steps, arriving on the deck just as Captain Albert surveyed the horizon. Panting, he handed the captain a coded message. Albert took it, his eyes narrowing as he read the contents. A smirk crept across his face.
"What does it say, Captain?" John asked, his curiosity.
"Just a little surprise for our German friends. Let's see how they can handle it," Albert replied, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "Prepare the men. We're going hunting."