"Wir sind den 36. Breitengrad hinübergegangen," the Obersteuermann declared as the German Type VII U-Boat U-47 crossed the 36th parallel.
"Befehle, Kapitänleutnant?" the Oberleutnant asked.
Kapitänleutnant Erdmann Engel cleaned his monocle and put it back to his eye. "You know 'vell our orders, Lieutenant," Captain Engel said. "Ve are to sch'peak from this point on 'vid outrageous awksents in English to mock der Amerikaners in 'deir own territory. Now, 'kontinue on to der 'koast. Our re'konaissance ist' vital for, vid'out it, it might be another year before 've can launch Operation Drumbeat."
"Ja – I mean, yes, Kaptain!" the Lieutenant said, clicking his heels. In the cramped conning tower, it was only one step over for him to hover over where the navigator sat and listened as the navigator marked their heading. A moment later, the Lieutenant was grabbing the navigator's shoulder to help brace himself as the U-boat was rocked by some sort of collision.
"Impossible! Up periscope!" Captain Engel spat as he stumbled for the periscope. The ocean's surface was dimly lit by the twilight of a partly-cloudy sky, but if they had struck some large object, surely he could make out its silhouette…? The loud sound of metal wrenching could be heard clearly from outside the conning tower, sounding like it was coming from the fore of the boat. Swiveling the periscope around, Engel thought he could see something that looked suspiciously like the fore deck gun flying through the air in an arc from the deck out over the ocean. His further search for answers was interrupted by a similar wrenching sound on the aft end of the boat where the other deck gun was.
"Vas' ist' going on?" Engel cried in frustration. The answer soon came from below the conning tower, as cries of alarm in both German and badly accented English shouted that the ship was being boarded.
At this point, with the deck guns disabled, all Namor had to do was wait for his airship to descend and magnetically grapple the U-boat to take the whole ship and crew prisoner. That, however, would have been much more boring than going in first and subduing everyone. After carefully letting himself in through the aft deck's main hatch, Namor hopped down into the boat's galley. The roar of the engine was loud in the galley, but still some 10 Nazi seamen were loitering about here. The seamen were slow to respond, as shocking as Namor's sudden appearance was, but as soon as they recovered they charged at his back just as he was taking the tunnel that led under the conning tower. In the narrow confines of the galley, only two seamen could read Namor at a time and Namor shrugged off the first two so quickly and easily that the others fell back.
Namor strode confidently through the petty officers' quarters next on his way back to the conning tower, pausing only to grab the first petty officer he came across by the scruff of the man's shirt. "You speak English?" Namor demanded.
"Y-yes," the officer said.
"Good. Run ahead and inform your captain that he is to prepare to surrender to Prince Namor of Atlantis." Namor gave the man a little shove in the right direction for good measure and watched as the man went reeling across the quarters to the far exit. The man braced himself against the doorway as the U-Boat was shaken again, this time Namor knew by his ship's arrival.
Namor only nonchalantly strolled now towards the center of the ship, only to have the Lieutenant shoot at him with a Luger from the ladder below the conning tower up ahead. The bullets, 9 mm, fired at short range, were unlikely to leave more than small bruises on Namor's tough skin, but the impact still hurt and enraged him. His feathery ankle wings fluttered and Namor lifted off the air and floated up to where he could reach the Lieutenant. Namor grabbed the man's right arm and squeezed it. The Lieutenant screamed and dropped the Luger as his arm was broken. Namor dropped the man to the floor below them and then floated up next to the ladder until he reached the inside of the conning tower. The Captain, navigator, and the petty officer who Namor had sent on ahead were all here, horrified at the sight that had risen in front of them.
"You are all now my prisoners," Namor announced. "At this very moment, my ship is towing your ship south at great speed. You will be taken with me back to the City of Aquaria in Atlantis. Obey me and you will be treated properly. If anyone disobeys, I will flood the ship. I hope I am understood. Am I?"
"B-but…" Engel sputtered.
Namor leapt into the captain's face. "What was that?"
"I-I-I…" Captain Engel could only manage, completely flummoxed.
"Are you challenging me to single combat for your vessel? Excellent. I accept your challenge."
"But – P-Prince…" Captain Engel managed to get out before Namor had scooped him up and flew down out of the tower with him.
Eager to have more crewmen witness this, Namor pushed Engel ahead of him, past the officers' quarters, and into the crew's quarters at the quieter rear of the ship. By now, a good crowd of two dozen crewmen, just over half the crew, had either gathered in their quarters or followed Namor and the Captain to the quarters. Satisfied with his audience, Namor let them circle around as he said, "We have a while until we reach Atlantis. Your captain has that long to try and defeat me. Or until I grow bored with him. No, not with that!" he hastily admonished, swatting a no-longer concealed Luger across the cabin that had crept into the captain's trembling hands. "Cowering codfish! Be a man and use your fists!"
Captain Engel glanced about at his crew, no doubt looking for help, but everyone was looking to him to give the merman a good show. Slowly, avoiding Namor's wilting gaze, Engel forced his shaky hands to unbutton his coat while he tried to summon some courage. Perhaps to delay the inevitable, Engel raised his fists and started circling Namor in a defensive position.
"Come on, man, I didn't ask you to bore me to death! Throw a punch, if you're not a little girl!" Namor complained.
Engel tried it, with a hard right straight to Namor's unblocked abdomen. Punching Namor's abdominals was like punching the hull of the U-Boat. Engel's fingers were already sore. Namor had not even flinched.
"Well? Keep trying," Namor coaxed. "Maybe you'll get lucky."
The crew grew slowly in size as more seamen left their posts to come watch their captain fight for his life. They cheered him on and bolstered his courage. Caught up in the excitement, Engel's fear of Namor was suppressed, but the battle was still taking its toll on him even though Namor had not thrown a punch yet. After five minutes, Engel switched to leading with his left fist because he could barely feel his right hand anymore. His knuckles were cracked and bleeding and he had not found one weak spot on Namor's body that did not feel like iron. Whenever Engel tried a cheap face shot, Namor would turn his cheek to it and his cheek would hurt Engel's hands. In his desperation, Engel tried to knee Namor in the groin, but only hurt his knee. After six minutes, Engel could do little more than hurl his shoulders into Namor. After seven minutes Engel's courage started to falter, but his crew was still excited by the fight and would not break their circle to let him out. Some even tried to help by pushing their captain at Namor, but the collisions only hurt worse then.
Namor, for his part, was more interested in working the crowd than working over the Captain. He even turned his back on Engel for awhile and let his weary opponent pummel impotently on his backside while Namor made it clear to the audience that it felt like a massage. But soon after that Namor realized he was tired of this game. He turned on his opponent sharply just in time to find Engel fumbling with a knife still in its sheath, his fingers so sprained that he could not coax enough dexterity out of them to grasp the hilt of the knife and lift it out. Namor just went "tsk" and blew a deep breath on the Captain that bowled the poor man over.
The crewmen, who a moment ago had been excited by the fight, suddenly turned quiet and still as they wondered which one of them Namor would turn to next. Instead, Namor said, "I'm bored of this and when I'm bored I can be awfully violent. If you don't want me bored and violent, then I suggest you all keep me entertained by telling me everything you know about Germany's plans against the United States of America."
The state secrets started flying so rapidly that Namor was forced to restore some order and have the crew line up and spill their guts to him one at a time. Namor listened to the first dozen crewmen before losing interest again. "Where are your torpedo tubes?" he asked in the middle of his thirteenth confession. Some puzzled crewmen pointed to a ladder and hatch in the ceiling. Namor jumped to the ladder, popped the hatch, and found the forward-facing torpedo tubes. He let himself into the torpedo tube, which was a tight fit, but he dented the metal on his way out to accommodate him better. The torpedo tube served as an airlock because, by now, his ship had submerged and was transporting the captured U-Boat slowly deeper underwater. Swimming with a burst of speed, Namor ascended to his ship above the U-Boat and opened a hatch to let himself inside.
"Nice work!" Namor called out to the only occupant as he made his way to the cockpit of his ship. There, sitting at the wheel, was his cousin, Dorma.
"Well, you're in an unusually good mood to be paying compliments!" Dorma said, turning around to look as Namor came up and plopped down in the seat next to her. "Did they give you any kind of a challenge?"
"Sufferin' sailfish, no!" Namor exclaimed. "It was pretty boring, but at least I got to interrogate the crew."
"What? That wasn't our orders. All we were supposed to do was take them prisoner and get them back home. What are the royal interrogators supposed to do now?"
Namor just shrugged. "It did give me plenty to think about," he continued, ignoring her question. "The Germans, they're tough and like a good fight. I like those qualities. Their captain managed to punch me for a whole 15 minutes and I didn't think he'd last half that long. If Germany and America go to war, it might be hard to pick a side…"
"I thought your new American friends already made up your mind for you. Like that Betty Dean…" Dorma said, unable to mask the disapproval with which she spoke Betty's name.
"Nobody makes up my mind for me!" Namor shot back. "Not even Betty. You got that?"
"Okay, okay…sheesh…" Dorma said.
They rode together in silence for some time after that, until Dorma said out of the blue, "Before we left, I heard the King plans to ask you to return to America and spy on them."
"Does he?" Namor asked nonchalantly.
"If we did decide, if Tha-Korr decides to support Germany instead of the U.S…do you think you'd be able to betray your friends?"
"I suppose I will have to judge the Americans more closely on my next visit, then…" was all Namor would say.