Angel of Destruction

by Christopher Nicole

‘But there is no time to show you anything. We are to leave.’

  ‘No problem. I will come with you.’

  ‘You wish to come with us? To sea?’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘But . . . we go for two days.’

  ‘I don’t mind. I don’t have anywhere to go.’

  ‘There are only two bunks.’

  ‘I am sure we can work something out.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘I do not understand why you wish to do this.’

  ‘Let us go on board, and I will tell you.’ She climbed over the rail, watched in amazement by the crew; Salvador followed. ‘I am a writer,’ Anna explained. ‘I wish to write a story about fishing boats at sea, and to do this I must have first-hand experience. You understand? Listen, how much do you expect to make from this trip? In US dollars.’

  ‘In dollars . . . sometimes we make three, four hundred. Maybe five.’

  ‘I will pay you one thousand dollars, cash, if you let me come with you.’

  He scratched his head. ‘You have one thousand dollars?’

  Anna opened her shoulder bag, thrust her hand inside, knuckles brushing the two pistols, and drew out a wad of ten hundreds. Salvador’s eyes gleamed.

  ‘Who is this woman?’

  Anna turned, to look at a handsome if slightly overweight woman with curling dark hair, standing on the quayside with her hands on her hips. ‘Who is this woman?’ she inquired.

  ‘This is my wife, Luciana,’ Salvador said, uneasily.

  ‘Ah.’ Anna could understand his discomfort; Luciana was not looking the least contented. ‘I am pleased to meet you, senora. Anna O’Rourke.’

  ‘What are you doing on my husband’s boat?’

  ‘He is taking me to sea with him.’

  ‘What? You? With him?’

  ‘You must not worry,’ Anna explained. ‘I am a lesbiana.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What?’ Salvador shouted.

  Luciana burst out laughing. ‘When you come back, you come and see me, eh?’

  ‘Of course,’ Anna agreed. ‘As soon as I come back.’

  ‘Ha ha,’ Luciana commented, and strode off.

  Salvador stared after her with his mouth open.

  ‘Well, you see, senor,’ Anna pointed out. ‘You learn something new every day, even about your wife. Now listen, I need to make a telephone call. I will not be five minutes.’ She had spotted the call box on the far side of the dock. ‘Don’t leave without me.’ She patted her bag. ‘One thousand dollars, eh?’

  She went ashore and hurried to the box, dialled the police number. ‘Good afternoon, senor,’ she said to the voice answering. ‘Listen carefully.’

  ‘Who is this speaking, please?’

  ‘Just listen. If you will go, or send someone, to Number Seven, Calle Victoriana, and go up to Apartment Five, you will find a woman who needs your help very urgently. The door is open.’

  ‘Senorita? What is your name. Where are you calling from?’

  ‘Just do it,’ Anna recommended. ‘Apartment Five, Number Seven, Calle Victoriana.’ She hung up and hurried back across the dock.

  *

  The engine was already rumbling, and the crew were standing by to cast off the warps. Most of the other boats were already on their way out of the harbour. Anna joined Salvador in the wheelhouse. ‘I am so excited,’ she confessed. ‘I have never been on a boat before.’

  He considered. ‘You will get seasick.’

  ‘Then I must suffer for my art. But you must show me what everything is. What is this round thing, with the needle?’

  ‘That is the compass.’ He watched the crew coiling the warps. ‘Senorita, my crew, they wish to know why you come with us. Why I take you. I tell them you have paid me. Paid us.’

  ‘Well, that’s true, isn’t it?’

  He glanced at her. ‘I tell them you have paid two hundred American dollars.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘You understand this?’

  ‘Of course. You’re the skipper. I would have done the same. What are their names?’

  ‘The tall one is named Pedro. The short one is named Carlos.’

  Shit, Anna thought. She had only met two men named Carlos in her life, and both were now dead. She hoped that wasn’t an omen; she really had no desire to harm any of these rather gormless young men.

  ‘You do not like these names?’

  ‘I think they are lovely names. So easy to remember.’

  ‘You feel all right?’

  The boat had now passed the pier heads and was rising and falling to a long but quite large swell; Anna guessed that there might be weather about.

  ‘I feel fine. You were telling me about these instruments. What is this one?’

  ‘That is the revolution counter for my engine.’

  Anna peered at the needle. ‘And you are going at six hundred kilometres an hour?’ She looked out of the window. ‘It does not look like that to me.’

  Salvador chuckled. ‘No, no, senorita. That is how fast the engine is turning. From that I can tell how fast we are going.’

  ‘You must have to know an awful lot to be skipper of a boat,’ Anna said, admiringly. ‘And what is this thing? It is making a funny noise.’

  ‘That is my radio.’

  ‘Gosh! You mean you are in touch with the shore?’

  ‘Oh, yes, senorita. This is necessary, to find out about the weather and so we can report if there is an emergency. Send a Mayday, eh?’

  ‘Do you have to do that often?’

  ‘I have never had to do that,’ Salvador said, proudly. ‘This is a good boat, and I am good sailor. Experienced, eh?’

  ‘That is very reassuring. And you say this radio is on all the time?’

  ‘Every minute.’

  ‘What sort of range does it have?’

  ‘Six, eight hundred kilometres.’

  ‘Gosh!’

  ‘It is MF,’ Salvador said, proudly. ‘You know what this is?’

  ‘Should I?’

  ‘It is medium frequency.’

  ‘How many frequencies are there?’

  ‘In terms of range, there is medium frequency, high frequency, that is very long, thousands of kilometres, and very high frequency.’

  ‘I get it. Very high frequency is longer yet.’

  Salvador smiled at her ignorance. ‘No, no. Very high frequency is short range. Maybe seventy kilometres.’

  ‘It is very confusing.’

  ‘Now, you see,’ Salvador was warming to his theme, ‘We deal in megacycles. There are hundreds of these, for different purposes. You see this radio, it is set on 2182.’

  Anna peered at the dial, ‘So it is. Is that yours?’

  ‘That is the Shipping Band. All ships at sea listen on that band. If the call is for you, personally, you will hear it on that band, and then, when you have replied, you will be told to go to another band to talk.’

  ‘It is very complicated.’ Anna smiled at the two crew as they came into the wheelhouse. They both looked embarrassed as they went down the companionway, ‘Are they going to bed already?’

  It was in fact quite dark, but they were surrounded by the lights of the other boats, all apparently heading the same way.

  ‘No, no, they go to cook our dinner. You are hungry, eh?’

  ‘As a matter of fact I am.’ Lunch seemed a very long way away. ‘When do we start fishing?’

  ‘Oh, not until tomorrow. When we reach the best ground.’

  ‘And you all fish together?’ That was a complication for which she hadn’t allowed.

  ‘No, no, we split up.’ He tapped the side of his nose. ‘Each skipper thinks he knows where is best, eh?’

  ‘I’m sure of it. Now tell me about your sleeping arrangements. You said you have only two bunks.’

  ‘Well, when we are at sea, you see, one of us must always be on the helm. So we only need two bunks. But one of them will be yours, for this trip,’ he said, gallantly. ‘The other one of us will sleep on
the deck. Unless –’ he glanced at her and took a deep breath – ‘what you said to my wife. Was it true?’

  ‘What did I say to your wife?’

  ‘Well . . . that you do not go for men.’

  ‘I might go for the right man,’ Anna said, fluttering her eyelashes.

  *

  As she had feared would be the case, the cabin turned out to be not very clean and distinctly odorous. At the after end there was a toilet compartment, which also had a washbasin, but this was even less salubrious, while the bedclothes turned out to be a well-worn sleeping bag that was the least salubrious of all. The things I have to do for England, she thought.

  But the meal, if swimming in grease, was surprisingly tasty, even if, although fish, it had to be washed down by a couple of tumblers of a very rough but drinkable red wine; there was apparently nothing else available save for water, and that wasn’t very salubrious either. But the meal was finished with some very palatable cheese, which suited her purpose, as it enabled her to drink some more wine, and as she was clearly unused to alcohol, she allowed herself to become equally clearly intoxicated, and could hardly stagger to her bunk before passing out.

  She lay with her shoulder bag clutched against her stomach, listening to their muttered conversation, which, had she not been Anna Fehrbach, might have terrified her, as it varied from a speculative analysis of various bits of her anatomy, annoyingly concealed by her shirt and pants, through a derogatory discussion of ‘lesbiana’, by way of wondering whether a ‘lesbiana’ might not be more enjoyable than an orthodox woman, to arrive at where she might be keeping the two hundred dollars she had promised them, and what else might be in her bag.

  But any immediate intent was quashed by Salvador, who made it perfectly plain that she was his, and that any investigation of either her or her bag was his prerogative. In fact, when she gave a gentle snore, he stood above her for several minutes, staring at her. But she allowed herself a few more snores, and he went away again, to sleep in the other bunk.

  The cabin light was turned down, and Anna slept herself, her hand inside her bag. In view of his obvious ambitions, and the fact that if he came on too hard she might reveal to the crew that he was planning to cheat them of eight hundred dollars she did not fear an interruption, not that, with her hand resting on her two pistols, she feared an interruption, anyway.

  She awoke refreshed, to considerable motion; overnight the wind had freshened and the sea had become distinctly lumpy. But she was pleased to discover, on going up to the wheelhouse, that there was no other boat in sight, although she guessed that they might not be very far off, hidden by the now large ocean swell.

  Salvador was on the helm. ‘Good morning, senorita. You sleep well, eh?’

  ‘Yes, I did. Where are the other boats?’

  He waved his hand. ‘They are fishing.’

  ‘When do we start fishing?’

  ‘As soon as we have had breakfast. You wish breakfast?’

  ‘Yes, indeed.’

  ‘You no have the head?’

  ‘What is a head between friends?’ She tapped the chart, which lay on the console beside the helm. ‘Do you know where we are?’

  ‘Of course, senorita.’

  ‘Show me.’

  ‘Well, you see, we left Pont del Mar at six o’clock yesterday evening, and it is now eight o’clock this morning. That is fourteen hours,’ he announced triumphantly.

  ‘You are a brilliant man,’ Anna acknowledged.

  ‘So, you see, we have made a steady eight knots, thus we have covered a hundred and twelve nautical miles.’

  ‘You mean you worked that out in your head?’

  ‘It is my business,’ he said proudly. ‘I am a navigator.’

  ‘Of course. And in which direction have we been travelling?’ She watched the sun, which was still rising just off the starboard bow.

  ‘North-east. Now, there is a little bit of current, but I estimate that we are –’ he used a pair of dividers – ‘here.’ He made a little pencil mark on the chart.

  ‘Amazing!’ Anna studied the chart. ‘But that means that we are only a hundred and twenty nautical miles from Montevideo.’

  ‘That is true.’

  ‘So, we could be there in fifteen hours. If we altered course now, we could be there at three o’clock tomorrow morning.’

  ‘That is also true. But why do we want to go to Uruguay?’

  ‘Oh, I think it would be a lovely idea. I have never been to Montevideo. Have you?’

  ‘Well, no. But why should I want to go there? I am Argentinian.’

  ‘I would like to go there,’ Anna said.

  ‘You wish to go to Uruguay?’

  ‘You have such a quick brain.’

  ‘But senorita, as you said, that will take us all night, and another full day back again. We are here to fish.’

  ‘For which you will earn a thousand dollars. But I will pay you another five thousand dollars to take me to Montevideo.’ She smiled past him at Carlos and Pedro, who were just emerging from the cabin. ‘Do you not think that is a fair offer?’

  ‘I do not understand this,’ Carlos said. ‘Five thousand dollars?’

  ‘This woman is mad,’ Salvador declared.

  Carlos preferred to concentrate on what mattered. ‘You have five thousand dollars, senorita?’

  ‘I do.’

  ‘In that bag?’

  ‘Show it to us,’ Pedro said.

  ‘If you wish.’ Anna opened the bag, took out the five bundles of notes. ‘See?’

  He reached for them.

  ‘Not so fast,’ Anna said, putting the money back into the bag and wrapping her fingers around the Luger. ‘You will get the money when we reach Montevideo.’

  Carlos and Pedro looked at each other.

  ‘There is something wrong,’ Salvador said. ‘You are escaping Argentina. You are a criminal.’

  ‘It takes all sorts,’ Anna agreed.

  ‘I must take you back to Pont del Mar. I will call them to tell them what you are trying to do.’

  ‘I am not trying to do anything,’ Anna said. ‘Except to be reasonable. And generous. I am offering you a large sum of money, several times what you can hope to earn from this fishing trip, to take me to Montevideo. That is all you have to do. Then you can go back to fishing, or go straight back to Pont del Mar. It is entirely up to you.’

  ‘I must call. You could be a spy.’

  ‘What an exciting thought. But I would prefer you not to call. Now, I wish you to alter course.’

  Salvador bristled. ‘You cannot give me orders on board my own boat.’

  ‘But I have just chartered your boat,’ Anna explained, patiently. ‘For five thousand dollars, for one night. You will never do a better business deal. I doubt you would get five thousand dollars if you put this boat up for sale.’ She looked at the crew. ‘Do you not agree?’

  ‘Oh, yes, senorita,’ Pedro said. ‘We agree.’

  ‘I will take you to Montevideo,’ Salvador said, with dignity, accepting that he might be outvoted. ‘But I must call Pont del Mar first. If I do not, and you are a criminal, I could be locked up, and have my boat confiscated.’

  ‘I don’t think you need to worry about that,’ Anna assured him. ‘Because you are being coerced. So . . .’ She had already determined, from watching their faces, that they had every intention of getting hold of her bag, at the very least, the moment they saw their opportunity. ‘I will remove temptation.’ She drew the Luger and put a shot into the radio, which obligingly exploded.

  ‘Madre de Dios!’ Salvador shrieked, releasing the wheel and jumping back.

  ‘You have that wrong,’ Anna said. ‘I’m told that I come from the other direction. And you have forced me to form the opinion that you are not to be trusted.’ She looked at Pedro and Carlos, who had shrunk against the after bulkhead, almost holding hands. ‘Pedro,’ she said, ‘go below and bring up the rest of the cheese, a fresh bottle of wine, and a bottle of water. You hav
e three minutes to do this.’

  Even if she supposed that it was unlikely they would have any sedative material on board, as usual she did not believe in taking risks.

  Pedro was back well within the time limit, placing the food and drink on the table, while Carlos and Salvador stared at her in mesmerized horror.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘Now, I made you an offer, which at least your crew were prepared to accept, and I always keep my word. So –’ she felt in her bag with her free hand and took out the money – ‘here, Carlos.’

  Cautiously he came forward and took the bundle of notes.

  ‘Now, you, Salvador.’ She felt in her bag again and took out the receipt she had carefully written out in her room at the Excelsior. ‘Sign this.’

  ‘What is that? You are committing piracy.’

  ‘Of course I am not committing piracy. I have just chartered your boat for one night for five thousand dollars. I wish you to sign this receipt to make it legal.’

  He glared at her, then at the pistol, then laid the receipt on the table and signed it.

  ‘Thank you.’ Anna restored it to her bag. ‘Now, I would like you to go below into the cabin and stay there. I intend to lock the door, and if there is any banging on it I will come in and shoot you all.’

  ‘You?’ Salvador asked, getting some of his nerve back. ‘Will shoot us?’

  ‘It is my profession.’

  ‘Your . . .?’

  ‘Shooting people. But I really do not wish to have to shoot you. So down you go.’

  Pedro and Carlos had already disappeared, but Salvador still hesitated. ‘But who will sail the boat?’

  ‘Me.’

  ‘You? A woman cannot sail a boat.’

  ‘You are not exactly making me your friend, Salvador.’

  ‘You do not know how. You told me you had never been on a boat before last night. You do not know how to navigate. You will wreck us.’

  ‘I’m sure I’ll pick it up as I go along. And I promise you, if I wreck the boat, I will let you out. Down.’

  Reluctantly he went down the companionway. Anna followed, pistol in hand, closed and locked the door, then returned to the wheelhouse. Unhelmed, the trawler was yawing all over the place, but a glance over the stern at the wake, informed her that there had been no great deviation from the course.

  She put the engine in neutral, found a pair of binoculars, and swept the horizon. There was no other boat in sight. She busied herself with the chart, taking Salvador’s estimated position as accurate, and laid a course for Montevideo, then re-engaged the gear. Lacking an autopilot she knew she was in for a long fifteen hours, but she had supreme confidence in her stamina, both physical and mental; she had lasted just as long in her escape from Mexico City.