The Levanter (32 page)

Touzani had posted an extra man at the top of the companionway. Patsalides was on watch. They both had large revolvers stuck in their belts and were obviously self-conscious about them. They pretended not to see me.

Touzani was in his office. He carried his revolver in his right-hand trouser pocket. He had been staring out of the porthole when I came in, but now he turned.

He motioned toward the darkness with his hand, “There’s another ship out there,” he said. “She crossed astern of us a while back. Had the sunset behind her. A Syrian schooner motoring on her engine.”

I sat down but said nothing.

“She wouldn’t be the ship we’re going to rendezvous with, would she?”

“Why do you ask?”

“When we change next time we’ll be on convergent courses. I ask because she’s running without lights.”

“She can see our lights. I think you’ll find she'll stay clear.”

“No rendezvous?”

“Not with her.”

“Your orders are still the same, Mr. Howell?”

“My requests are, yes. Slow to six knots but stay ten miles offshore.”

“Very well.”

He left me and went to the wheelhouse. He was displeased with me and I didn’t blame him. I was displeased with myself. He was trusting me and I should have confided in him. But it was too late now. I had begun to watch the clock.

Nine o’clock came and went. Then it was nine fifteen. From the bridge I could hear the change being made. Patsalides rang down to the engine room for half ahead and then revolutions for six knots. The course change called for by Hadaya had been eleven degrees to starboard. Touzani ordered a change of fifteen. From that point on until he corrected again we would be moving away from
the coast. After he had corrected we would be nowhere near territorial waters.

I had no idea what from a patrol boat interception would take. I presumed some form of flashing light signal - ”What ship is that?” - followed by an order to heave to. I didn’t know. I didn’t care. I just stood by the porthole with my eyes glued to the darkness outside waiting for
something
to happen. I waited and waited.

I was still waiting when Captain Touzani returned to the cabin. He had a radio message form in his hand and he was clearly furious.

“Mr. Howell, a radio message has just been received. It is in English and for you.” He thrust it under my nose.

It was addressed: M. V. AMALIA HOWELL FOR M. HOWELL,

It read:
EMERGENCY PROCEDURE. STEER 170 DEGREES REPEAT 170. YOU ARE CLEARED FOR ASHDOD.

It was signed: COAST GUARD HADERA

At least they hadn’t forgotten me
.
I
looked up into the angry brown eyes of Captain Touzani.

“It may be addressed to you, Mr. Howell,” he said deliberately, “but I want to know what it means. I demand an explanation.”

What it meant was that the radio warnings that I had sent earlier had not been fully understood, but I could scarcely tell him that.

“May we look at the chart, Captain?”

“All right. But I still want an explanation. I still want to know why, in my ship, you are getting navigational instructions from an Israeli coast guard station, and why we are cleared for an Israeli port for which we are not bound.”

“Show me this course on the chart, please.”

We went through to the wheelhouse and he laid a ruler across the chart to show me.

“There’s one-seven-oh.”

“On that course what would be our
distance from Tel Aviv when we passed it?”

“Six miles about.”

“What is our present course?”

“One-nine-two.”

“Will you please radio back to Hadera? Say, please, in my name, that we are not, repeat
not
, able to carry out this emergency procedure, and that we are
compelled,
use that word, to maintain course one-nine-two.”

“First, I want that explanation.”

“We are trying to keep out of trouble, and keep a lot of other people out of trouble as well. That’s all the explaining I can do now, Captain. Kindly send the message and mark it Urgent For Action.”

He started to argue but I cut him
short.

“This is an order, Captain Touzani, and I can assure you that it is a proper order from an owner to a captain.”

“I’d like to be the judge of that.”

“You will be, but just now you’ll have to let me be the judge. Send the message please.”

I left him before he could say any more. I had to think. The coast guard message could only have been dictated by Barlev’s people in Tel Aviv and therefore was intended to have a special meaning for me. Since they had not understood my references to a second ship they were now saying one of two things. The first was that they were still unwilling to intercept the
Amalia
far outside territorial waters and still asking me to make things easier for them. The second . . .

But I
never really had time to think that one through. Something else distracted me.

The saloon door that gave on to the deck was held ajar by a catch, so that I was halfway down the companionway when I first heard it; a scratching noise and then, suddenly, very loudly, a voice.

I stopped and looked through the porthole.

Ghaled and the front-fighters were gathered around the walkie-talkie, and the voice coming out of it was Hadaya’s.

I admit that I
do not like recalling what happened during the next hour, but so much has been said, left unsaid, or
half-said, or insinuated, that I must.

The range of
those walkie-talkie things varies. That one I would guess was effective up to just over a mile. As Hadaya was over two nautical miles away then, we could not hear him very plainly at first.

There was sudden fading and then bursts of sound like the one I had heard from outside.

But his meaning was plain enough even then, and became plainer as the distance between the two sets decreased.

Ghaled looked up angrily as I came in. “You heard that?” he demanded.

“Was that Hadaya’s voice, Comrade Salah?”

“It was. We are speaking to him on the
Jeble
5. He says that we are off-course.”

You didn’t tell Ghaled he was talking nonsense, but I
had the presence of mind to do the next best thing - make him suspect that he was.

“Comrade Salah, I have just come down from the bridge to tell you that the ship is now on course.”

“Now? Why not before?”

“In a car, when one takes a corner, one turns the wheel and then straightens up. It is the same at sea. But we are not in a car, or a rowboat. This is a ship and, at the moment, a slow-moving one. It takes time to turn and time to straighten up. Hadaya knows all this.”

“He also says that we are out of position.”

“With respect, Comrade Salah, that is not possible.”

There was another faint squawk from the walkie-talkie. Hadaya said something about taking bearings and getting fixes. Ghaled did not understand it and I was glad to ignore it.

“You admitted yourself,” he said accusingly, “that Hadaya is competent.”

“I did, and I am sure he is, in port. However, he must be under some strain at present and perhaps overexcited. Has he been in action as a front-fighter before, Comrade Salah?”

“No, but all he has to do is steer to the right place. He does not have to fire a shot himself.”

“He has the responsibility and is already in a position of danger. Perhaps he knows it.”

“What danger?”

“Captain Touzani sighted the
Jeble
5 at sundown. She was running without lights, and on a collision course with this ship. What looks easy on the chart isn’t always so easy when one is at sea and in darkness. Even the most competent officers can become confused.”

“Hadaya can see our lights, and he says that we are out of position.”

In Latalda, Touzani had asked if there would be a seaman among the passengers on board and I had told him there would not be. But Hadaya was a seaman and with that damned walkie-talkie he was as good as on board. What was more, his voice was rapidly becoming clearer with less fading. All I could do now was try to bluff, confuse, and play for time.

“Please ask him what course we are steering, Comrade Salah.”

Ghaled pressed the transmit button and repeated the question.

A moment late the reply came back. “
Amalia’s
course and ours is now one-nine-two, but...”

I tried to drown the rest. “Comrade Salah, that is the course called for in your instructions.”

“Let him finish.” To Hadaya he said: “Repeat that.”

“We are on the right course but too far west.”

“How can that be?”

“After the turn to starboard
Amalia
delayed too long before correcting. By my dead reckoning we are at least two miles west of where we should be.”

“That is impossible,” I protested. “Captain Touzani is a skilled navigator with modern instruments at his disposal. Hadaya must be mistaken.”

Ghaled pressed the button. “Comrade Michael says that you’re mistaken. What do you say?”

“In a few minutes I should be able to take bearings on the Hadera and Tel Aviv lights marked on the chart. We will know then who is mistaken.”

“How many minutes?”

“I could send a man to a masthead now, but I would sooner take the bearings myself. Give me five minutes, please, Comrade Salah.”

“Very well.”

Ghaled looked at his watch and then broodingly at me.

“I want to speak to this Tunisian of yours.”

“On the bridge, Comrade Salah?”

“No, here. Send for him.”

I rang the bell for Kyprianou. When he appeared I said: “A message for the Captain. My compliments and would he please come down to the saloon.” I was speaking in Greek and I added: “Tell the Captain that this is a request that he should ignore and that the whole crew should be warned to expect trouble.”

He gave me a startled look and hurried out.

Ghaled turned to Aziz. “If this Tunisian has not carried out Comrade Michael’s orders, we must see that he obeys ours. Arm yourselves.”

“Yes, Comrade Salah.”

They went aft along the alleyway.

It was a bad moment for me. The people on the bridge were armed and the rest of the crew would be alerted. Ghaled was also armed, true, but the odds, I thought, were in the ship’s favour. They were not, however, in mine. So far Ghaled had appeared to trust me. We had had our cosy little drinking session in his cabin. Not even Hadaya’s awkward revelations had seemed to cast doubts on my good faith. If the ship wasn’t where she should be it was “the Tunisian” who was to blame, not Comrade Michael But at any moment now that was all likely to change. Ghaled might be ignorant on the subject of navigation, but he would know what a locked door meant. It meant that the Tunisian was being deliberately obstructive and committing hostile acts. And who was he taking his orders from? Me.

I started to talk my way out of the danger zone. “If
the ship is a little out of position, Comrade Salah, that is not really very serious. The mistake can easily be rectified. Even at six knots we can make a two mile change of position well before zero hour. Hadaya is overanxious, that is all. Perhaps I am, too, now that we are really going into action. I am certainly getting forgetful I meant to bring the second bottle of brandy with me when I came down. If you will excuse me a moment, I will go back and get it.”

He glanced at his watch again. I think that he was going to let me go for the brandy, but just then Captain Touzani came into the saloon.

I know now why he came. In spite of my suggestion that he stay put, he was afraid that the message about alerting the crew meant that I was in trouble over the special compartment door. He came to help me out Very generous after the way I had treated him, but it really would have been better if he had stayed on the bridge.

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Howell?” he asked.

I
had no chance to reply.

“
I
want to see you,” snapped Ghaled.

As he said it there was a pounding of feet in the alleyway and Aziz burst in.

“Comrade Salah! We cannot arm ourselves. We are locked out
of our room.” Then he saw the captain and pointed an accusing finger. “He has locked the room against us!”

Touzani smiled. “Nonsense, Mr. Faysal. That compartment is
normally kept locked. I expect that the boatswain locked it without thinking when he was on his rounds. I’ll give orders to have it opened.”

“At once, please, Captain,” said Ghaled, and I saw him as he said it release the flap of his pistol holster.

“By all means, Mr. Yassin.”

Touzani had started to turn away when Hadaya’s voice suddenly came through loud and shrill over the walkie-talkie.

“Comrade Salah! Comrade Salah!”

Ghaled reached for the transmit button.

“Yes?”

“Comrade Salah, I have taken bearings on the Hadera and Tel Aviv lights. We are three miles out of position, over ten miles offshore. Ten miles! On our present course we will be completely out of range.”

“Are you sure?”

“Certain. We must immediately turn to port and steer one-six-oh. Immediately, Comrade Salah!”

Ghaled stared at Touzani. “You hear that?”

Touzani stared back mulishly. “I hear a voice, Mr. Yassin. I do not know whose voice, but he is talking rubbish. Do you think I don’t know my own position?”

“I think you know your position very well. That is why you are going to obey my orders from now on.”

Hadaya’s voice came bleating in again. “Steer one-six-oh, Comrade Salah. Immediately.”

“And that’s my first order,” continued Ghaled. “You hear? Then obey.”

“I’m not running my ship aground to please you, Mr. Yassin.”

“She is no longer your ship. I have taken command. You hear?”

“I hear,” said Captain Touzani, and went for his revolver.

It was in his trouser pocket and the hammer caught in the lining. He was still trying to free it when Ghaled shot him.

The heavy bullet knocked him backward against a chair. The chair went over and he with it, sprawling on the linoleum.

Ghaled shoved the automatic into Aziz’s hand. “Up to the bridge,” he snapped. “Take charge at once. Order the new course.” He turned to me. “You go with them. Make sure the order is obeyed properly. Look at the compass yourself. Course one-six-oh. Move now!”