Tyler Marshall's Last Stand

Tyler looked down at his watch,
"12:27." he whispered to himself.
     He picked up a small radio from the table in the middle of the room.
"Three minutes until topside."
He could hear his voice echo around the submarine. Tyler started walking to the door of his cabin, he grabbed his coat and walked into the crowd of crewmen rushing to their stations.
As Tyler made his way to the control room he noticed that there was a round of ammunition on the ground. He picked it up and saw that this particular round belonged to a German handgun. He didn't want to bring attention to himself so he slipped it into his pocket.
Tyler walked up to the control room and behind the navigator. He didn't want to scare him so he put his hand on his shoulder before speaking to him. As he looked down at the man he noticed some red under the sleeve on the navigator's left arm. Still not wanting to draw attention to himself, Tyler ignored it.
"Prepare to surface."
The navigator nodded in response.
Tyler made his way to his cabin. It was a small room he had his bed in the corner, desk and a chess board in case someone wanted to try and beat him, though they never could. Tyler later on the bed and started examining the ammo he had found on the floor. How did German ammunition get on an American sub, he wondered.
There was a knock on the door and Tyler quickly slid the ammunition in his desk drawer. He walked towards the door and opened it slightly. He could see the face of a man, the navigator, he supposed. He opened it more so that he could make eye contact with the man. The man was tall and thin with scraggy blonde hair. Tyler caught a glimpse of something silver, barrel looking, behind the man's back. Just in case it was a handgun, Tyler chambered a round and set his own handgun on his desk. Tyler motioned for the man to come in.
Once the man stepped into the cabin, Tyler pinned him against the wall and held his hands to his back. The sound of a bone cracking and the man screaming in pain as Tyler disabled his right hand. This the man to drop his weapon. Tyler, still pinning the man against the wall, lifted the gun off the ground.
"Can you explain to me what you were planning to do with this firearm behind your back? And why there is a swastika tattooed on your neck?" Tyler had sounded so menacing with just that one statement.
The man stood in silence. After what seemed like thirty minutes, the man spoke.
"I was to take you and your sub down." Tyler frowned and pushed the barrel of the gun against the undercover Nazi's head and pulled the trigger. Filthy scum, Tyler thought to himself.
A worried crew member ran into the cabin. He saw the dead body on the ground and the gun in hand.
"Did you kill him? You traitor!" The crew member drew his side arm and aimed it at Tyler's head.
Tyler raised his hands.
"Relax, David, he's the traitor here. Put your weapon away and I'll show you."
David obeyed orders and put his weapon in his holster.
"Ok, now prove you aren't going rouge."
Tyler got on his knees and lifted the dead man's right jacket sleeve revealing a red armband with a swastika in the middle.
"See? I don't think he's alone either."
"You're right, he's not." A low voice came from the doorway.
Another member of the group, Tyler thought to himself, and he's got David. The man held David by his neck and with his gun to his temple. If I even try to get close to him he'll kill David. Damnit these Germans play dirty. Tyler just stood in silence. What am I to do? The slightest movement and someone loses a husband and a father. Tyler raised his hands and acted as if he had surrendered. Oh I hope this works, he thought. Tyler shifted his left foot to the right and flung his arms forward. Two silver blurs flew past David's ear and into his attacker's shoulder and eye. He fell back and screamed in pain. The yell echoed through the sub's Interior, alerting more German infiltrators and crew members. The doorway was now filled with alarmed infiltrators and crew members. David, holding his now sliced ear, explained what happened. Only they ones who were authorized positions on this submarine lowered their weapons. The ones with their weapons still drawn were immediately shot down by more of Tyler's lethal aim, and his blades. The ones that Tyler missed were killed or wounded by David's quick fingers. Only a surprising three of the group in the doorway were infiltrators. Tyler ordered those still standing to raise the right sleeves of the downed men. They did as they were ordered and under each sleeve was the armband.
Tyler had gathered the crew in the cafeteria. Each were sitting and a surprising amount had jackets on. Tyler ordered the crew to draw their weapons and set them on the table in the middle of the cafeteria. They all did as they were told and soon after the table was overflowing with handguns, combat blades and the occasional brass knuckles.
Tyler stood silent, on looking the crowd of men in the room. The silence overtook the room. After what seemed like an hour of silence, was soon broken by Tyler's firm voice, "Now that we have our weapons set aside, please remove your coats.This time, instead of the whole crew following orders, only a small amount kept their coats on.
"If you please, I'd rather save your time in my cabin interrogating you seven, remove your coats." Tyler kept his voice firm. So firm it was frightening.
Still, the group remained sitting and with their coats on. Tyler shifted his hand to his hip. He wasn't going to risk taking any chances. The group saw his movement and stood. They removed their coats and drew their own concealed handgun. Tyler quickly drew his and the table to grab a gun. Tyler shot first and wounded one of the group members. The rest of the group directed their fire towards the now armed crew. The cafeteria soon grew into a battleground. The firefight soon ended when their ammunition depleted to nothing. The seven soldiers lay there. Soon after the sub surfaced. Tyler climbed to the top followed by a crew member. The crew member handed Tyler the bodies one buy one. Tyler tossed them overboard then returned to his cabin. He heard a faint beeping under his mattress. He lifted it and stood. Plastic explosives set under him. Of course it was a small amount. Only enough power to throw shrapnel through his back and most definitely kill him. But it was amateur. Tyler could easily disarm it and he did. Little did he know that there was a second, larger. Bomb in the engine room. Tyler went to the cafeteria and ate. Shortly after the back-end of the sub began to fall. The table slid and Tyler slammed into a wall knocking him unconscious. Tyler regained his consciousness and stood slowly. He staggered to keep his balance.
"Status report." no reply came.
"McCain!?" still no answer.
He staggered to keep his balance while he walked out of the trashed cafeteria. He heard the sound of what seemed like someone left the faucet running. Tyler followed the sound. It WAS getting louder. Tyler stopped to regain his balance. The sound got closer. Tyler didn't want to stay to find out what it was. He opened the nearest door to him and hurried inside. Tyler managed to hold the door shut as the rushing water slammed against everything its path. The sub slanted to the left, throwing him off balance and slamming him into a desk. He staggered to his feet then dropped as the sub tilted again. There was a loud snap as the door broke off its hinges. Tyler, who was using the door as support, tumbled out into the rushing water. He was swept violently throughout the U-boat, smashing his head and other parts of his body, against the corridor's walls.
He was thrown out into the open water, sprawling. Trying to regain himself, Tyler grabbed hold of a of debris. He quickly swam to the surface. Despite his now broken leg, he swam fairly quickly. He breached the surface shortly after, gasping for air. He dragged himself onto a floating fragment of his sub, or what's left of it.
"Damnit." Tyler groaned in pain.
He had shrapnel lodged in his hip and a bone protruding from his leg. Tyler brought himself onto the debris. Not long after night had fallen, a German search team surveyed the area for survivors. Dispatched in small PT boats, the small groups split off into the open sea. Tyler took a deep breath and dove silently underneath his platform. He waited for a boat to pass by. Sooner than thought, one came and he quietly boarded the two-manned vessel.
Silently, he grabbed a wrench from the back of the boat and crept up behind one of the men. Before the other could see him, or react, Tyler had smacked the wrench, viciously, against his target's head and threw it against the other man's head, knocking him overboard. Knowing that if he left one alive they could alert the others, Tyler grabbed a handgun from behind the wheel and pushed it against the bleeding man's back, executing him. To ensure the one overboard was still around, he decided to see how well the depth charges on board the PT cruiser worked. One by one they detonated. Tyler hoped that he didn't swim off.

He didn't stick around to find out.

He started the boat's engine and headed as far out away from the other ships as possible. The fleet disappeared behind the horizon of a setting sun. The engine sputtered and soon cut off.
"Fuck. Just my luck. Come on you piece of shit." Tyler began cursing the engine and soon gave up and kicked it.
Enraged, he dove into the freezing water. He swam underneath the hull and looked at the propeller to see if anything was caught in it. He immediately swam to the surface after the gory sight of a man's disembodied head and his hair in a tangled mess on the propeller.
"Poor bastard must've tried to swim away. Even in death they continue to show how much they can fuck me over."

He swam until he grew tired. In the middle of the Atlantic, exhausted and in need of medical support. Tyler gave up and lay afloat on the freezing water. He stared absently at the night sky. The stars like salt on scorched meat. A search light hovered over his seemingly lifeless body. A raft was released into water from the large vessel. He lay motionless as the raft grew nearer. Eventual he felt the hands of someone pull him out of it. He soon lost consciousness aboard the deck.
When he awoke, he found himself cuffed to a metal chair. The cold metal around his hands tingling his arms.
"Hello?" he called out.
"Oh, I see you've woken up. Good, we can begin."
As the maniacly voice snickered, Tyler could here a distinct accent. He realized then, this was an American vessel.
"You can't get anything out of me," he chuckled, "my mouth is more secure than the whitw house itself."
The voice laughed, "Oh yes we're sure. But we have ways of getting people like you to reveal unto us whatever it is you are hiding."
"I ain't got nothing to tell you so might as well let me go."
"Let you go?"
There was silence. The silence lasted for what felt like hours. Finally, it was broken.
"Fine. I suppose we'll let you go, but not alive."
At that very instant the door creaked open. A small canister was tossed inside his "cell" and then the door was quickly shut.
"Hey, what is this? Hello? Anybody there? Guys!" Tyler called out in vain.
The canister began emitting a strange yellow gas. The gas filled the room, slowly, menacingly. At first it rose ti the ceiling. Then, creeped down the walls. Finally, it seethed across the floor.
Closer, it drew to Tyler. Closer, ever so closer. The gas moved slower than the sweat trickling down his brow.
Tyler began to cough. His coughing intensified. His coughing soon transitioned to choking.
He struggled. Although he knew struggling would make it kill him faster, he continued to atempt escape. His vision blurred as his feeble attempts quickened the process. Eventually, he grew fatigued.
He gave in and slumped over in his chair, still choking. His vision went from blurred to black.
His lifeless corpse fell limp in his throne of sorrow. His heart had seized its rhythmic flow.
Tyler Marshall was dead.