by John Gardner
Bone lifted his binoculars. ‘You’re right. I think they are ocean-going cutters. Yes. Flying the Stars and Stripes. Hang on …’
A light began to flash intermittently from the leading craft. Their form was now quite distinguishable. Long rakish fast ships clipping through the water and looking as tough as they come.
‘Can you read what they’re flashing?’ The Captain turned to the young officer.
‘Whisky Zebra, Whisky Zebra, Whisky Zebra,’ read the officer of the watch.
‘Our security call sign.’ Bone dropped the information. to Mostyn. ‘Signal back Whisky Zebra.’
One of the helicopters had broken away from the main formation now and was descending towards the tanker. Bone pulled open the port sliding door of the bridge and leaned out, looking towards the helicopter’s hatchway. One hand came up holding a pistol-grip power megaphone.
‘Hear this, Captain. Hear this.’ The voice echoed strangely above the engine and wave noises.
Captain Bone waved an arm in assent.
‘Request permission to land small detachment United States Marines aboard you.’ The voice went on, poised above them. ‘Complete radio silence still to be observed. We have information of possible saboteurs among your crew.’
Bone turned back on to the bridge. ‘Signal them to come aboard.’ His face was a nasty shade of grey. Mostyn looked out across the water. During the last few minutes they had slid from the roughish water into comparatively calm sea. The leading ship was closing on them, coming alongside.
‘Stop engines,’ commanded Bone.
The officer of the watch clanged down on the engine room control handle. Mostyn glanced towards the segmented indicator and saw the needles pointing to STOP ALL ENGINES. The diesel thud, to which they were all acclimatized, slowed, faltered, and then stopped. Now all the other noises seemed suddenly magnified: the buffeting of the wind, chug of helicopter engines and the sounds coming from the ocean-going cutter now only a short distance from them.
‘Pipe all hands of the port watch to assist visitors coming aboard.’ The officer of the watch spoke into the bridge microphone. Within seconds a voice echoed the command on the loudspeaker system. Men began to appear, ready to lash the two ships together.
The helicopter dropped steadily towards the deck forward of the bridge. A rope ladder coiled and snaked from the hatch, and a small figure descended. Then another, and another, until seven Marines stood on the metal deck.
From the bridge, Mostyn could see that the party was made up of two officers and five enlisted men. They disappeared into the superstructure and arrived on the bridge two minutes later, minus three of the enlisted men. All wore the olive drab of battle order, the enlisted men equipped with M15 carbines and the two officers carrying unholstered automatics.
The senior, a major with large ears and red hair, advanced unerringly towards Captain Bone and saluted.
‘Major Bernard, United States Marine Corps.’ There was a trace of what Mostyn called yucky-hick in the man’s voice.
‘What’s the score, Major?’ Bone stood as though welded to the bridge deck.
‘Sorry to cause you delay, Captain, but Lieutenant Gladzinsky here, and myself, have orders to inspect all persons on board. We have descriptions of two who may be among your crew. Suspect saboteurs.’
‘Who the hell’d want to sabotage this ship?’
Gladzinsky, who was a small bouncy pink-cheeked young officer, grinned evilly. ‘Not so much the ship as the cargo, Captain.’
‘Yea,’ drawled the Major. ‘So could you muster all hands. I’ve got more men coming aboard.’ His eyes looked past Bone’s left shoulder towards the large cutter which was now secured to the port side of the Warbash Admiral. Scrambling nets had been hauled up and a steady stream of Marines were clambering up the swaying side, over the rails and on to the deck. Mostyn noted that they all seemed excellently drilled, each group of men moving rapidly into what looked like a predetermined position.
Bone stared thoughtfully at the Major. ‘Okay,’ he said at last, ‘I’ll order all hands to boat stations.’
‘That’ll be just fine.’ Gladzinsky spoke in a menacing manner. The manner of a traffic cop who knew he had got you on toast.
‘Hear this. Hear this.’ The officer of the watch was speaking into the bridge microphone, this time linked directly to the loudspeaker system. ‘All hands to boat stations. Prepare to abandon ship.’ He clicked the main switch into the off position and smiled towards the Captain. ‘That ought to make them move, sir.’ Already there was the noise of feet running on the decks below them.
‘Good. Very good,’ said the Major. ‘I liked the prepare to abandon ship bit. It …’ He was interrupted by the arrival of a Marine sergeant. The sergeant seemed opposed to the disciplinary habit of saluting. He simply cocked his head back towards the companionway and spoke off-handedly to the Major.
‘The radio room’s out of action. One guy got a bit tough so we had to put him out. They’ll have to carry him off .’
‘What the hell …?’ Bone reacted violently, moving aggressively towards Major Bernard. But his way was blocked by the Major’s automatic.
‘You must learn to control your tongue, Spider.’ The Major spoke over his shoulder to the sergeant who was now intent on lighting a cigarette. ‘We hadn’t let the Captain into our surprise yet.’
Mostyn took a pace forward, his hand automatically going for the pistol which was not there.
‘Down, boy.’ Gladzinsky grinned his evil grin again. Mostyn stopped with the sudden appreciation that there was a fair amount of fire power directed at them.
‘What is this?’ Bone’s voice quiet, controlled with no hint of anxiety.
‘Well,’ the Major smiled. ‘Some folks might call it piracy …’
‘On the high seas,’ added Gladzinsky.
‘Like he says. On the high seas.’
‘And just what do you intend to do to my men?’
‘Not just your men, Captain. You, your friend here,’ the Major’s automatic waved gently towards Mostyn. ‘And his friends as well. All of you.’
‘All right. What do you …’
‘Intend to do?’ The Major finished it off with a lift of his eyebrows, then gently shepherded the Captain and Mostyn to the bridge windows. The officer of the watch, helmsman and signaller remained still, held down by the other weapons.
‘We are going to do a straight switch.’ The Major like a small boy showing off his toy. ‘A straight switch of crews. The new crew is on board now. Those Marines down there, they are the new crew. Now the old crew has got to be persuaded to climb down those scrambling nets into the cutter. You think they’ll do that?’
‘They haven’t got much option, have they?’ said Mostyn.
‘No, chum, they haven’t. You come from Boston or swinging London?’
‘I’m British,’ said Mostyn, all Union Jacks and old Empire.
‘Jolly good, what?’ mimicked Gladzinsky.
‘After your crew has gone down into the cutter, you follow,’ continued the Major.
‘You’ll not get far …’ began Bone.
‘On the contrary. You’ll not get far’ The Major chuckled. ‘There’s only enough fuel on board that cutter to take you about twenty miles. And there’s no radio. I don’t have to remind you, Captain, that you’ve been sailing your boat way off the shipping lanes so you’re lost, man.’
‘We’ll manage.’ Bone gave him a cold-as-yesterday’s-Baked-Alaska stare. ‘And I still don’t think you’re going to get far.’
‘I don’t intend to.’ The Major looked smug. ‘You see I’m only in charge of this part of the operation. We’ve got a new captain and our commander on board. When I get off, I go with the cutter that’s going to play at being you for a few days. You have been sailing under radio silence haven’t you? Except for the two quick broadcasts each day so that security knows you’re okay?’
Bone perceptibly wilted. ‘If you say so.’
�
��I say so. Twice daily, at midnight and noon, you repeat the words Whisky Zebra ten times on a frequency of … but I don’t have to tell you, Captain. Anyway, you won’t have to worry about that any more, will you? We’ll keep on your course for a while so nobody will know what’s happened to the Warbash Admiral and her cargo until it is too late.’ He paused, then added as an afterthought. ‘By the way, the cutter has plenty of provisions. You won’t starve. But it will be a week or so before they pick you up. Now, will you tell all your sailor boys what to do?’
‘Go to hell,’ spat the fat Bone.
‘Have it your way, chum.’ The Major hunched his shoulders and nodded to Gladzinsky who crossed to the bridge microphone, switched on to the loudspeaker system and spoke in a nasal, flat, unemotional drone.
‘Hear this, hear this. All crew members and passengers will disembark from the Warbash Admiral using the scrambling nets provided on the port side. You will do this under the supervision of the Marine detachment. Men lined up on the port side will disembark first. Now note this. Anyone not complying with this order, or the instructions of the Marines nearest to them, will be shot.’ Gladzinsky treated the bridge to another of his smiles as he switched off the speaker system. ‘I mean that as well,’ he said.
‘I don’t doubt it,’ Bone replied acidly. Then, turning to the Major. ‘What do you expect to get out of this?’
‘Don’t ask me, Captain, I’m just a mercenary. I get paid for doing what I’m told. Now you’ll have to excuse me while I just see how we’re getting on with your crew.’
‘Stalemate?’ The Captain queried, raising his eyebrow and looking at Mostyn once the Major had left the bridge.
‘Looks like it,’ replied Mostyn. ‘Got us hard by the short and curlies. I wouldn’t try arguing with all this stuff around.’ He indicated the assorted weapons confronting them. ‘Leave it.’
‘Not so worried about them. It’s the board of inquiry that bugs me.’
‘You and me both,’ said Mostyn.
Half an hour later Mostyn was climbing down the scrambling net on to the large ocean-going cutter below.
The crew of the Warbash Admiral were now all transferred. With the resignation and defeat which is only felt by men forced to do something against their will at gun point, they had quickly set about finding themselves quarters in the cramped space of the cutter.
Griffin and Chicory stood near the rails as Mostyn landed on deck. Chicory had an arm on his sleeve, her eyes wide with anxiety. ‘Boysie?’ she asked, ‘Isn’t Boysie with you?’
‘No,’ said Mostyn quietly, a glint of hope in his manner. ‘I thought he was with you.’
Captain Bone was now on deck. They were hauling up the nets and casting off.
‘Where is he?’ Chicory had the makings of possible hysteria. ‘Where’s Boysie?’
‘He hasn’t come off?’ Mostyn looked at Griffin. Griffin shook his head. ‘Not ‘ere.’
‘Well do something about it. We can’t leave him.’
‘Leave who?’ Frankenstein joined them.
‘Boysie, Boysie hasn’t come off the Warbash Admiral …’
‘Shut up,’ said Mostyn with some authority.
‘But …’
‘We leave Boysie where he is.’ Mostyn smiled for the first time since they had been boarded. ‘We leave him just where he is, because with him on board I’m the only person who can lead us to the Warbash Admiral and her Saturn rocket.’
‘With Boysie on board you can …’
‘Yes. If they keep him alive that is,’ Mostyn added as an afterthought.
*
‘I think we’d best take a trip up to see the Captain.’ The Marine prodded Boysie with his carbine.
‘Ah,’ said Boysie trying to assess the situation. ‘That would be Captain Bone? The fat one?’
The Marine shook his head.
‘Not Captain Bone?’ tried Boysie. ‘I see. I am on the Warbash Admiral?’
‘You’re on the Warbash Admiral but Cap’n Bone don’t live here no more.’ The Marine prodded Boysie again. He began to move, slowly. Inside the superstructure there seemed to be more crew members than he had previously seen. And they were all dressed in Marine uniform. Boysie decided that it must be a dream. He would wake up soon, maybe by the time they reached the Captain’s cabin.
By the time they got to the Captain’s door Boysie had given up the idea that he was dreaming. The Marine tapped on the wood and opened up, pushing Boysie in front of him.
‘Seems we missed one,’ he said by way of explanation.
‘So what have we here?’ A tall man stood in the centre of the cabin. Tall and big with a leathery face and cold eyes.
‘Move out of the way, Solomon. Let, how do you say it, the dog see the rabbit.’ The voice was husky with a slight Latin accent. The big man called Solomon moved and the voice’s owner was revealed sitting behind the Captain’s desk.
Dressed in a striped jersey, the girl pushed her yachting cap on to the back of her short jet hair. The view, from Boysie’s position, was exceptionally delightful. She was a sinewy beauty with an olive complexion and fine dark features. The eyes, into which Boysie looked with some ardour, were a heavy brown and her lips parted in a smile which showed off a set of toothpaste-commercial teeth.
‘My, my, my,’ she said. ‘Are you my first real live stowaway?’
‘You’re not Captain Bone,’ said Boysie playing it dumb.
‘No, darling.’ She rose displaying a snake-like figure. ‘No, I’m not Captain Bone. I’m the new captain.’
‘Good. I like you better’n Captain Bone.’ Boysie grinned.
‘I think you’re cute as well.’ The girl came round to the front of the desk. She was wearing bell-bottom navy pants below the striped jersey.
‘I don’t wish to sound inquisitive,’ said Boysie trying to be pleasant, ‘But I haven’t seen you on board before. Or you.’ He added looking at the big man.
‘No, you wouldn’t have.’ The man looked at him, a schoolmaster glaring at an obnoxious pupil. ‘We didn’t come on board until this morning.’ He turned to the Marine. ‘You’d better wait outside.’
The Marine nodded and left, closing the cabin door behind him.
‘I can’t understand,’ continued the big man, ‘how we came to miss you.’
‘Miss me?’
‘Yes. We cleared the ship. I thought everybody had been taken off.’
Dawn began to break in Boysie’s mind. Out of the half-light he spoke. ‘You mean that Captain Bone and his merry men are no longer with us. What did you do? Make ‘em walk the plank?’
The man smiled. ‘Something like that.’
‘Everyone?’ asked Boysie, a beautiful picture of Mostyn teetering on the edge of a plank, being goaded by jeering sailors, filled his mind.
‘You should be with them, really.’ The girl moved closer to him. He could smell her, a mixture of sun, sea water and a hint of something or other by Estée Lauder. ‘Don’t provoke him, Constanza.’ The man spoke softly. Threat hovered between them.
‘Oh, don’t be such a spoil sport. And I’m not provoking him.’
‘What have you really done to Captain Bone and his crew?’ asked Boysie. The cabin was getting warm.
‘Captain Bone, his crew and passengers have all been put in a large ocean-going cutter, with no radio or compass, plenty of food but very little fuel. They’ll be picked up. In a week or so.’
‘I wasn’t very well this morning.’ Boysie patted his stomach. ‘In the bathroom for a long time.’
‘That’s probably how we came to miss you,’ said the girl. ‘By the way this gentleman is Solomon, he’s in charge of security …’
‘Needs to be with all those wives,’ said Boysie before he could stop himself.
‘And I am the new captain,’ continued the girl. ‘My name’s Constanza Challis.’
‘Can I ask where we’re going?’
Solomon laughed. ‘Yes. Yes, you can ask. We’re off to Wizard.’
‘We’re off to see the Wizard the Wonderful Wizard of Oz,’ chanted Miss Challis. ‘Now we’ve told you so much you must tell us who you are.’
‘Ah …’ began Boysie, but another voice cut in from the doorway before he could continue.
‘His name is Oakes and he specializes in Aerospace Flight Simulators. It may be good to have you on board, Mr. Oakes; we shall see. In the meantime it is nice to meet you again.’
They all turned towards the door. The short, blond bespectacled figure of Doctor Ellerman von Humperdinck stood in the doorway.
CHAPTER FIVE
SORCERER
The silken sorcerer
Who, with his mystic numbers
Doth the universe control:
Earth, stars, constellations,
The very depths of space.
THE MAGICIAN: John Edmunds
‘It’s all right, Solomon, Mr. Oakes and I met in the very respectable society of Cape Kennedy.’ Von Humperdinck advanced into the cabin, closing the door. ‘You have been very free with information.’
‘We’ve not told him anything he’d understand.’ Constanza Challis had moved back behind the desk.
‘Maybe.’ Von Humperdinck’s eyes seemed even larger behind the heavy glasses. ‘Maybe. What have they told you, Mr. Oakes? That we are bound for a place called Wizard? Good. I will add to that. You see, Wizard is an island, and on Wizard I am known as the Sorcerer.’ He chuckled, the wheezy chuckle of an old woman. ‘I cannot tell if you are for us or against us …’
‘I don’t even know what you’re up to …’ began Boysie.
‘Wait, gently.’ Doctor von Humperdinck made quieting gestures with his hands. ‘All in good time, Mr. Oakes. All in good time I will tell you what we are to do, then you can make the choice. Help us or don’t help us.’
‘What happens if I don’t want to help you?’
‘Oh, we keep you locked up for a few days. When it is all over we set you free. We don’t favour violence, do we, Solomon?’