Passage by Night (v5) (16 page)

19
The Stern Sea Chase

It was bitterly cold and Manning sat against the wall and smoked one of Morrison's cigarettes. Seth and Papa Melos both appeared to be dozing and Orlov stood at the grille and peered outside. Morrison paced restlessly up and down.

After a while, he crouched beside Manning. 'If I don't get out of here soon, I'll go crazy.'

'That kind of talk won't get us anywhere. What time is it?'

Morrison peered at the luminous dial of his watch. 'Two a.m.'

'They'll be leaving soon,' Manning said. 'Have to if they want to be off Lyford Cay by dawn. It's a three-hour run.'

'What are they going to do when they get there, that's what I want to know?'

'Perhaps they intend to plant a mine in the channel. That would fit in with her remarks about not being there when it actually happened.'

'But plenty of craft use that channel,' Morrison said. 'I've never heard of a mine yet that could select its victims.' He jumped to his feet. 'God, it makes me go cold all over just to think about it. Don't these crazy fools realize what they're doing? Lighting the fuse to another war. No one's ever going to believe the Cubans pulled this one on their own.'

'Perhaps that's exactly what they want. It would certainly force Russia's hand.'

'And we're cooped up here,' the American said. 'What I wouldn't give for a gun right now.'

'Anna's got one,' Manning told him. 'I saw her take my Smith and Wesson from the chart drawer when we were on the boat.'

'Then why in hell hasn't she used it?'

'I'm glad she's had the good sense not to try. It wouldn't go very far against a submachine gun, or would you like to try your luck?'

'Under the circumstances, I believe I would.'

Manning turned to Orlov, who had been keeping the guards under constant observation. 'What's happening out there?'

'Nothing much. They've got a bottle of whiskey. Must have drunk half of it between them. The native can stand it better than Paco.'

'Have they said anything interesting?'

Orlov shrugged. 'The usual things. Their experiences with women and so on. Paco seems to have taken a fancy to Anna. Charlie's just been pointing out how unpleasant the consequences would be if the colonel ever found out he'd touched her.'

'Thank God for that,' Manning said and at that moment, a step sounded on the stairs.

As he went to the grille and peered out, Viner entered and spoke to Charlie, who hastily picked up his submachine gun and went upstairs. The German walked across and stopped just outside the door.

'I thought I'd let you know that we're leaving now, Harry. No need to worry. We'll be back before noon.'

'I wouldn't count on that,' Manning said and the German chuckled and walked away.

A few minutes later, Manning heard the dull rumble of diesel engines breaking into life. When the muffled throbbing faded into the distance, a sudden unnatural quiet descended. Paco produced the whiskey bottle which he had hurriedly hidden on Viner's entrance and held it to his lips.

Manning turned and sat down beside Morrison. 'For God's sake give me a cigarette.'

As they sat there in the darkness, he felt the strength drain out of his tired body. There was nothing they could do. Nothing at all - and then Paco started to sing.

He was very drunk. As they crowded the grille to watch him, he placed the neck of the bottle to his lips and laughed as whiskey slopped over his face and shirt.

When the bottle was empty, he smashed it against the wall, staggered across the floor and stood swaying in front of Anna's cell.

'Querida,
my little darling. Be nice to Paco. Come out.'

Manning's hands gripped the bars tightly and he struggled to hold back his rage. Sweat mingled with the whiskey, trickling over the fat, foolish face. Paco laughed suddenly, fumbled in his pocket and produced the bunch of keys.

'But of course. How foolish of me.'

Anna hadn't uttered a sound and he lurched forward to unlock the door. It crashed against the wall, the iron facings ringing against the stone and he moved inside.

Anna called out something unintelligible and he gave a cry of rage. A moment later, she stumbled out of the cell. Her dress was torn from the shoulder to the waist, but she held the Smith & Wesson in her right hand. As Paco came after her, she turned, flung up her arm and shot him through the head.

He must have died instantly and she stepped over his body without looking down and pulled the bunch of keys from the door. It took four attempts before she found the right one and her fingers trembled slightly. As the lock clicked, she glanced up. For one brief moment Manning looked through the grille into her eyes and then he was outside and running across the cellar.

He picked up the submachine gun, cocked it and moved to the bottom of the stairs. The swarthy Cuban who had been on the terrace outside Maria's room was already halfway down, his machine-pistol ready. Manning jumped back, poked the barrel of the submachine gun round the wall and fired. The Cuban screamed and pitched headfirst down the stairs, somersaulting into the cellar.

Morrison picked up the machine-pistol. 'Now what?'

'There's a radio transmitter in a room off the hall. Want to try for it?'

'Sounds like a good idea.'

Manning went up the stairs on the run and peered cautiously round the corner. The hall was deserted and he waved on the others. As they joined him, he crossed quickly to the door of the room containing the transmitter. Morrison joined him, standing on the side. Manning turned the handle gently and flung the door open.

The man at the transmitter was alone. As he turned in alarm, Morrison moved inside. 'Do as you're told and you won't get hurt.'

The Cuban didn't hesitate. His hand grabbed for the automatic on the desk beside him, giving Morrison no choice. He loosed off a burst that spun the man around, smashing the set in a dozen places.

At the same moment, heavy firing broke out from the far end of the corridor. As Manning turned to reply, bullets peppered the wall. Papa Melos gave a cry of pain and clutched his arm.

'Get them out of here,' Manning yelled to Orlov. 'Try for the boat. We'll cover you.'

He fired a long burst as a head peered round the wall at the end of the corridor. Behind him. Orlov and Seth dragged the old man away, Anna running ahead of them.

A few moments later, the Russian called from the open doorway. Manning and Morrison fired together, backing slowly, then turned and darted into safety.

The door bolted on the inside and they followed the others down through the cellars until they came out on the steps that gave access to the jetty. The green light still blinked monotonously and the
Grace Abounding
rocked slightly in the water as waves slapped in through the entrance to the cavern.

As they went down the steps, a heavy pounding sounded on the door behind them. Orlov and Seth lowered the old man gently to the deck and Manning tossed his submachine gun to the Russian and ran into the wheelhouse.

As the engines rumbled into life, there was a sudden cry and several men appeared at the top of the steps. Manning took her away with a surge of power as they started to fire. A bullet shattered one of the glass panels in the wheelhouse, showering him with splinters, and Orlov and Morrison fired in reply. A moment later, they were moving out to sea.

There was a heavy swell running and spray surged in through the shattered window, soaking his head and shoulders. The coldness of it and the taste of the salt on his mouth filled him with new life and he gradually took the engines up to full power.

The door banged open and Seth entered. 'I've given her a quick check, Harry. Can't see any damage to the hull. The wheelhouse seems to have caught it worst.'

'How's the old man?'

'Could be worse. Bullet passed clean through his forearm. His daughter and Mr Orlov, they're fixing him up fine.'

'What about Morrison?'

'He trying to raise Nassau on the radio. Last I saw, he wasn't having much success.'

Manning flicked on the chart light and leaned over. Immediately, bright spots of blood splashed across the chart and Seth gave an exclamation of dismay.

Manning put a hand to his face and winced, suddenly aware of the pain. A splinter of flying glass had sliced across his cheek.

'I'll get you a plaster from the first-aid box,' Seth told him and went out on deck.

Manning leaned over the chart again, fixed their position and plotted a course quickly. As he finished his calculations, Morrison came in.

'Any luck with the radio?'

The American shook his head. 'I've just had a look inside. Couple of valves missing. Somebody was obviously playing it very safe. What happens now?'

'That's up to you. I've chartered a course for Lyford Cay which passes about fifteen miles east of Johnstown Harbour. If I altered course, you could always raise Nassau from there.'

'And bring them out into the open?' Morrison shook his head. 'I'm not too happy about that and I'm not keen on wasting time in altering course. I've got un uneasy feeling they might be up to something. I think we should keep after them.'

'I agree,' Manning said. 'If the weather stays like this, we stand a fair chance of catching up before dawn. We should certainly get there before they've finished whatever it is they intend doing.'

'Are you sure about that? They've got nearly an hour's start on us, remember.'

Manning touched the side of the wheelhouse lightly with one hand. 'I've been concerned with boats since I was a boy, Morrison. You name it, I've sailed on it. The
Grace Abounding
is the finest craft I've ever known. She'll get you there.'

Seth came in at that moment and cut into the conversation. 'Take the wheel for a moment, Mr Morrison, while I fix him up.'

Manning sat down and turned his face to the light. Seth swabbed it quickly with a piece of lint soaked in antiseptic and affixed a plaster along the deep cut.

'Good as new,' he said.

Manning took over the wheel again and Morrison lit a cigarette. 'What if they're already on the job when we get there? She told you she was going skin diving, remember.'

'We'll go down after them.' Manning turned to Seth. 'You can break out all the diving equipment and check it. How about aqualungs?'

'We got three, but I ain't sure about spare bottles and Mr Morrison used one for an hour the other day.'

'Better check and let me know how things stand.'

Seth nodded and went out and Morrison leaned over the chart to trace their course with a nervous finger. He looked up, face strained and anxious. 'If we do have to go down after them, things could get nasty.'

Manning shrugged. 'Can you think of a better way of handling it? Out in the open and official, it would be the biggest international stink since the Cuban crisis.'

Morrison nodded. 'You're right, this is the only way.'

'Of course I'm right,' Manning grinned. 'Go and give Seth a hand with the equipment and stop worrying.'

The wind kicked spray against the window and he rubbed the weariness from his eyes and sat down, the wheel gripped tightly in his hands. There was no moon, but visibility was excellent and he strained his eyes into the distance. The door opened and Orlov entered.

'How's Papa Melos?' Manning said.

'Indestructible. He's having a sleep.'

'Thank God for that. He's been hurt enough by this business.'

'So, the stern sea chase begins?'

Manning glanced at him quickly. 'You've been talking to Morrison?'

The Russian nodded. 'I'd like to make up the party if you have to go down. I'm a useful man with an aqualung.'

'How useful?'

Orlov shrugged. 'The study of marine life is a sideline of mine. I've been at it for five years or so now. Mostly in the Black Sea, but I've put in a lot of time underwater since my posting to Cuba.'

Manning grinned. 'Looks like you're elected.'

Orlov smiled charmingly. 'I'm so glad you agree. I'd have insisted on going anyway. I'll take over for an hour if you like. Anna's got the coffee going below.'

Manning didn't even try to refuse. His eyes were sore and the nagging pain in his face seemed to drag him down. He went along the deck and paused at the rail for a moment before going below.

Seth and Morrison had the diving gear spread out on the floor and table of the saloon. There were a couple of brand new spear guns and Manning picked one up and frowned.

'Where did these come from?'

'Mr Morrison bought them while you were away.'

'What about the spare bottles?'

Seth shook his head. 'Not too good. About forty minutes for one of the aqualungs, that's all.'

'Should be ample.' Manning turned to Morrison. 'By the way, Orlov's coming with us if we have to go down. Apparently he's something of an expert.'