Away Boarders

by Daniel V Gallery

  "Does Aaron Goldberg live here?" asked Fatso.

  "What do you want?" demanded a voice from within.

  "I want to see Aaron Goldberg," said Fatso. "It's important."

  "About what?" demanded the voice.

  "I can't tell you," said Fatso. "I've got to see Goldberg."

  "Wait," said the voice, and the peephole closed.

  A minute later it opened again and Fatso got another searching examination by a pair of eyes. Then a new voice said, "What do you want?"

  "Are you Goldberg?" asked Fatso.

  "What's your business?" asked the voice.

  "I'm a friend of Benny Cohen in Tel Aviv. I was with him there a couple of weeks ago and he told me to look you up when I got to Naples."

  "Oh," said the voice. "Are you Fatso?"

  "Yeah. That's me," said Fatso.

  A bolt was slid back, the door opened, and Fatso was greeted by a young, tough-looking Israeli of heavy-set build who looked like a paratrooper.

  "Come in," he said, sticking his hand out and giving Fatso's a grip that made him wince. "I had a letter from Benny last week. He told me you might look me up. Come on upstairs."

  Goldberg led the way upstairs and into a large clubroom, where there were half a dozen hard-looking young huskies sitting around reading and playing cards.

  "Here is the friend that Benny wrote us about," he announced. "Captain Fatso."

  Everyone raised a hand in a friendly greeting.

  "Have a cup of coffee?" asked Goldberg, as they seated themselves at a table.

  "Yeah, thanks - I will," said Fatso.

  Goldberg held up two fingers to a lad at the coffee urn and said, "Benny told us in his letter about how you saved his life. Those goddamn Arabs almost got you in that ambush. So anything we can do for you - just let us know. We are at your service."

  "I got a big job for you," said Fatso. Then, glancing around the room, he said, "I suppose you can rely on all these people to keep their mouths shut?"

  "Yes indeed," said Goldberg. "We are all in the Special Forces Unit. I can vouch for every one of these people. You can speak freely."

  "Okay," said Fatso. "You know that Egyptian gunboat that sailed from Hampton Roads a couple of weeks ago? The one your country protested about and the Ecuadorians bought it?"

  "Yes indeed. We know all about it - except where it is. It passed Gibraltar several days ago. Our Navy and Air Forces are on the lookout for it and will intercept it - if it isn't escorted by the Russians."

  "Well, that ship is tied up at the U.S. Navy amphibious base right here in Naples right now," said Fatso.

  All activity in the room stopped. Everybody laid down his cards and books and looked at Fatso quizzically.

  "What happened?" asked Goldberg. "Did you people intercept her and bring her in here?"

  "In a way, yes," said Fatso. "But the U.S. Navy doesn't know a thing about it officially - doesn't even know she's in here."

  "How do you mean?" asked Goldberg.

  So Fatso explained how they had sent the phony radio message, met the ship at sea, gone aboard posing as Russians, and had taken over. He explained that the Spigs expected to sail for Alexandria next morning.

  "But your Navy won't let them do it. Will they?" asked Goldberg.

  "So far our Navy doesn't know a damn thing about it, and I don't think they want to get mixed up in it at all," said Fatso. "In fact, they wouldn't want to touch it with a ten-foot fending-off pole. But if you guys are ready to act fast, you can get down there tonight, take possession of her, and take her to Tel Aviv - sailing tonight."

  Everybody got up and crowded around Fatso and Goldberg, eager to hear even word Fatso had to say.

  "It sounds great," said Goldberg. "How do we do it?"

  "Just get together a crowd of about ten husky men," said Fatso, "and come with me down to the amphibious base. I'll get you through the gate. All the Spigs will be over on my ship watching the movies, except the gangway watch. The movies are inside, so you can sneak across my ship without being seen. You may have to overpower one guy as gangway watch. Then you cast off, start up the engines, and away you go to Haifa. Very few people at the amphibious base will know that the ship was even in there next morning."

  The whole crowd looked at Goldberg, with eager anticipation on all faces.

  "It sounds too good to be true," said Goldberg.

  "But it is true - just like I told it to you," said Fatso. "All you need is a couple of guys who know how to run diesel engines and somebody who can navigate. You take her out of here tonight and you go through the Straits of Messina tomorrow night. Take her between Crete and Greece along the coast of Anatolia north of Cyprus and then run down the west coast of Syria coming down from the north. The Russians will be looking for her coming along the north coast of Africa. You just steam right into Haifa with her and surprise everybody."

  There was an excited chorus of approval from the crowd.

  "Boy, oh boy!" said Goldberg. "They'll declare a national holiday in Israel about this. We'll probably all get promoted."

  "Well, get your crew organized then," said Fatso. "About an hour and a half from now you should be going aboard. You'll be underway five minutes later and out of the harbor in twenty minutes."

  Goldberg counted noses of those present. There were seven. "Okay," he said, "get Abraham, Joseph, and Aaron. That will make ten. Also get John - I want him in charge of this place till we get back. Can any of you guys run a diesel engine?"

  There were four who professed to be experts on diescls.

  "Herman," he said to a bright-looking lad, "you're a lieutenant in the naval reserve. You ought to know how to get us out of the harbor and how to lay the courses and navigate for us."

  "Yes indeed," said Herman. "Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it."

  He picked out the two biggest in the crowd and said, "You two go aboard right behind Fatso and overpower the gangway watch."

  "We've got to do that very quietly," said Fatso. "No shooting, or anything like that."

  "It will be done very quietly," said one of the pair confidently. "We won't make a sound."

  "Are you coming with us to Tel Aviv?" asked Goldberg of Fatso.

  "No," said Fatso. "As soon as you are in possession, I'll get off."

  "Too bad," said Goldberg. "You'd get a big welcome in Tel Aviv."

  "I can't afford to be mixed up in this thing at all," said Fatso. "You gotta keep my name out of it. You can tell your bosses the true story, but the official story they release has got to be that she was captured at sea by the Israeli Navy. It's very important that you keep the U.S. Navy out of it."

  "Okay," said Goldberg. "We can handle that all right. What happens on your ship when the Spigs who have been watching the movies find out their ship is gone?"

  "Well," said Fatso, "we may have a little excitement for a while when they find out their ship has disappeared. But I'll handle that. We'll need another car to take all your people down to the amphib base. And I'll want a driver to stay with the car who knows the way to the Russian embassy here in town. I think I'll take the Spigs there and dump them."

  "Okay," said Goldberg. "We'll take care of that."

  An hour and a half later, two cars crowded with men pulled up at the gate of the amphibious base. Fatso showed his ID card to the sentry and said, "These people are friends of mine. I'm taking them down to my ship."

  The sentry waved them on. The two cars pulled up at the dock alongside LCU 1124. Fatso got out and looked the situation over carefully. No one was in sight on either ship. The sound track of the movie in the messroom was clearly audible. Fatso motioned to the others to get out, and they all slipped quietly aboard LCU 1124. They gathered in the darkness of the well deck alongside the Jacob's ladder leading up and over the side of the Egyptian.

  Fatso went up the ladder first, followed a few seconds later by the two designated to take care of the gangway watch. The watch was seated inboard under a light, reading a book.
The Spaniard got up and turned to put his book down on a hatch nearby. He never knew what hit him. While his back was turned, the two Israelis were on him and knocked him cold with a couple of karate blows. Soon he was securely gagged and bound and shoved into a dark corner. The rest of the party then climbed quickly aboard and each one went to his designated station. Fatso showed them the two mooring lines that had to be cast off. He showed the diesel experts the way to the engine room and then hurried up to the bridge where Goldberg and the Navy Lieutenant were. The Lieutenant took a quick look around the harbor, saw that all was clear, and took his station at the wheel with his hand on the engine throttles. In a minute, the ship began to tremble as they felt the engines start. Soon word came up on the voice tube from the engine room, "All ready to get underway."

  Fatso shook hands quickly with the Lieutenant and Goldberg and said, "Good luck to you."

  "May Jehovah be good to you, Fatso," said Goldberg, as Fatso scrambled over the side and slipped down onto the well deck of LCU 1124.

  He signaled to the men standing by the mooring lines and they threw them off. The Egyptian began slowly backing clear. She eased silently astern until her bow was about even with LCU 1124's stern, then kicked ahead, put her rudder over, and squared away on a course for the entrance. In a few minutes she was swallowed up in the darkness.

  As she passed the signal station on the way out she flashed the call letters of U.S. mine sweep 232, and got a belated acknowledgment from the sleepy signal watch there.

  Fatso then tiptoed into the messroom and took a seat in the back to watch the rest of the movie. He sat down alongside Scuttlebutt, gave him a nudge, held his fist out with thumb up, and made a circle with his thumb and forefinger.

  When the movie was over, the Spanish captain made a little speech to Tania, thanking her. She invited them all to stay for a cup of coffee. While they were having their coffee, one of the Spaniards went out on deck and soon burst back into the mess room, his eyes as big as golf balls, and announced that the ship was gone. The others rushed out on deck and gazed in open-mouth amazement at the empty spot where their ship had been. Fatso, Tania, and the rest of the boys put on an act of being amazed too.

  "Where is my ship?" demanded the Spaniard of Tania.

  "I don't know." said Tania. "Someone has taken her away."

  "What do we do now?" said the skipper, wringing his hands as an excited jabbering broke out among his crew.

  "I don't know," said Tania. "I must report this immediately to the Russian ambassador . . . You and your men must come with me."

  When a skipper's ship suddenly disappears, leaving him and his whole crew ashore, he's apt to be a bit bewildered and open to suggestions as to what to do. He agreed immediately to notifying the Russian authorities. He and his whole jabbering crew piled into the cars on the dock and made their way to the gate. Fatso again showed his ID card and said, "I'm taking my friends home again now."

  The gate sentry did not notice that this was a different bunch of friends from the ones he had brought in an hour before.

  In town they made their way to the home of the Russian consul. It was a large house with the Russian coat of arms over the entrance gate. Here they all got out of the cars and Fatso rang the bell at the gate. Then, before the Spaniards realized what was happening, Fatso and Tania popped back into the cars and away they went and left them standing there.

  Back at the Israeli HQ, Fatso, Tania, and John gathered around the bar to have a drink.

  "This is the biggest thing since the six-day war," said John, as he measured out the bourbon and water. "There will be a wild celebration in Tel Aviv about this and all our people will be heroes."

  "It sure went off slick," said Fatso. "I'll never forget the look on that Spig captain's face when he realized his ship was gone. And all of our boys put on a hell of a good act about being surprised, too. That Spig still thought we were on his side till we ran off and left him at the consulate. I wonder what the hell the Russian consul will do with those guys?"

  "He'll have a hell of a time," said Tania. "There's nothing in his book to tell him what to do. He'll have to request instructions from Moscow. The Russians don't like to look stupid to the rest of the world, so this will put them on the spot. They will understand this perfectly because this is the way they work. But I think they'll just try to hush it up."

  'They'll have a hell of a time doing that," said John. "When the ship gets in to Tel Aviv, the Israelis will tell the whole world about it."

  First thing next morning LCU 1124 got underway and nosed up to the stern gate of her mother ship, the USS Alamo, which was moored in another part of the base. The Alamo lowered her stern gate, admitted LCU 1124 to her roomy well deck, and closed the gate. Thus, for all practical purposes, LCU 1124 simply disappeared off the face of the earth, or at least off the waterfront of the amphibious base.

  Later that morning the Russian consul came down to the amphib base with the Spanish skipper and drove along the entire waterfront. They saw no trace of LCU 1124. The consul had spent a hectic night with the seven excitable Spaniards on his hands and wanted no further part of them. When they couldn't find LCU 1124, he loaded the skipper and his crew aboard a Russian ship that was sailing for Alexandria and sent a dispatch to Moscow telling their whole improbable story. He then went back to his regular business of trying to stir up trouble among the members of the Italian Communist party.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Tania Leaves

  As soon as LCU 1124 was securely moored in the well deck, Fatso went up to the cabin to report to the Captain. The Captain had known Fatso a long time and had implicit confidence in him, except in matters involving the MP's, which he considered to be more or less Fatso's private business. He regarded Fatso as one of the Alamo's senior citizens.

  He was seated at his mess table having coffee when Fatso came in, and waved him to a chair at the table. He buzzed for the messboy to bring him a cup of coffee and said, "Well, Gioninni - glad to see you back. How did things go this trip?"

  "Oh - about the same as usual, Cap'n," said Fatso.

  "Where did you go this time?" asked the Captain.

  "Malta, Iraklion, Tel Aviv, and Athens," said Fatso.

  "Did any of your boys get in trouble ashore?" asked the skipper.

  "No sir. No trouble at all. We also stopped in at the Gulf of Laconia, where the Russian fleet bases sometimes."

  "What were you doing there?" asked the skipper.

  "I was just curious to have a look at their ships," said Fatso. "I thought we might get some good pictures of them. But we didn't have much chance to look at them."

  "Oh?" said the skipper. "Why not?"

  "They tried to blow us up," said Fatso. "So I decided to get the hell out of there."

  "A smart move, I would say," observed the skipper. "Just how did they try to blow you up?"

  "They sent a swimmer to put a limpet mine on us," said Fatso. "But this guy detonated the mine about one hundred yards from us. It went off with a hell of an explosion and shook us up pretty bad. When we got underway to get the hell out, we found this frogman hanging on to our bow. We hauled him aboard and he told us he had purposely fired the mine a safe distance from us and that he wanted to defect from the Russians and come over to our side."

  "Well, I'll be gah damn," said the skipper.

  "So we took him aboard - and we've still got him," said Fatso.

  "Hmmm," said the skipper. "Our ONI people should talk to him. Do you think he can be of any use to us?"

  "Yes. I think he can help us plenty. He's one of their CIA types and a radio operator. He knows a lot about their communications, codes, and ciphers."

  "Well," said the skipper, "we better hang on to him . . . Lemme see, now ... I think I'd better take this up with Com Sixth Fleet right away. His flagship is in port now. I think you better come along with me."

  "Oh, and one more thing, Cap'n," said Fatso. "This deserter is a she."

  "Whaddaya mean? A femal
e?" asked the Captain incredulously.

  "Yeah. That's right," said Fatso. "We didn't find it out till she had been aboard awhile."

  "Well - I don't see that that changes things much," said the skipper. "Okay. Let's go see the Admiral."

  A half hour later the Captain and Fatso got in the Captain's gig and headed for the Milwaukee, anchored out in the harbor. The Milwaukee was a sleek, businesslike-looking heavy cruiser, and was shined up like a yacht. As they neared the starboard gangway, four side boys and a boatswain's mate took station at the head of the gangway while the young OOD, a spyglass under his arm, stood on the upper platform looking down as the bow hook grappled the guest warp. As the Captain started up the gangway followed by Fatso, the OOD stepped inboard. When the Captain's head appeared above the deck coaming all side boys cracked up to a salute and held it while the boatswain's mate started a long blast on his pipe. At the head of the gangway the Captain faced aft, saluted the colors, and then stepped aboard, saluted the OOD, and said, "Permission to come aboard, sir." As he stepped aboard, the boatswain's mate finished his piping and the side boys cracked down with their salute.

  Fatso, right behind him, repeated the salute to the colors as he came over the side and tipped a broad wink to the boatswain's mate as he passed him.

  "I want to see the Admiral," said the Captain.

  ''Messenger," barked the OOD, "show this officer down to the Admiral's cabin."

  A messenger wearing white leggings and a duty belt led the way aft along the spotless quarterdeck, resplendent with shiny bright-work and fancy doodads. A small piece of marlin adrift on that quarterdeck would have been as conspicuous as an ashcan on the White House steps.

  As they were ushered into the cabin the staff was just finishing the Admiral's morning briefing on the global situation. They took station at the rear until it was over.

  The Operations Officer was saying, 'That Egyptian gunboat that shipped out of Hampton Roads and was sighted at Gibraltar a few days ago is still unaccounted for. The America's planes are searching for her along the North African coast."