Without Warning
Sanger, Thomas C.
Fritz-Julius Lemp tracked the approaching ship in his submarine's periscope. It had become a silhouette barely distinguishable against the darkening twilight sky, but Lemp was close enough to see the foaming white wave thrown up by its bow. He smiled when the spray arched higher, signaling the ship had begun changing course again.
"You're right on schedule, " he said to the image in his eyepiece.
Lemp's pulse quickened with the knowledge that ...
