"The America understands, don't they, that if they find her they are to take no action except to shadow her?" asked the Admiral.
"Yes sir. They understand that," said the ops officer.
"When we find her we'll pass the information along to the Israelis. What they do with it is their business," said the Admiral.
"The new Ecuadorian government has proclaimed the ship to be an outlaw," continued the commander, "and disclaims all responsibility for her."
"Yes. I know," said the Admiral. "She may be an outlaw so far as the Ecuadorians are concerned, but there was a legal sale of the ship to either Egypt or Russia. Washington would like very much to have her fall into the hands of the Israelis. But they are scared stiff of taking any action that would antagonize the Arabs any more than we already have. So we take no action to molest her."
"Yes sir. That's thoroughly understood by everybody," said the ops officer.
As the briefing broke up the Captain came forward and introduced himself to the Admiral. "Captain Jenks, sir - USS Alamo!'
"Glad to meet you, Jenks," said the Admiral. "Have a cup of coffee? What can I do for you?"
"Admiral," said the Captain, "a rather unusual situation has come up which I think your office will want to handle. I've got a deserter from the Russian Navv who wants to defect to our side."
"Well, that's interesting," said the Admiral. "What are the circumstances?"
"It's a very unusual tale. I've got one of my men here who can tell you all about it," said the Captain, motioning to Fatso to come forward.
When the Admiral saw Fatso his face lit up, he stuck out his hand, and said, "Fatso! How the hell are you? Long time no see."
"Oh - you already know Gioninni?" asked the Captain.
"Know him? Hell, I've known this scoundrel for twenty-five years or more," said the Admiral. "When the Lexington got sunk at the Battle of the Coral Sea, he saved my life - swam around holding me up for about an hour."
"Well, he's in my ship now," said the Captain. "He's skipper of my LCU and he's been off with her on independent duty for the last month. Tell the Admiral what happened, Gioninni."
Fatso related the story of their visit to the Gulf of Laconia, of the Russian attempt to blow them up, and of Tania's coming aboard.
"Those commie sons of bitches," said the Admiral. "They shoot down our planes if we fly over them and now they try to blow up our ships."
"They would of got us, too," said Fatso, "except that this frogman deliberately set the mine off about a hundred yards away from us. It shook the hell out of us but didn't do any real damage."
"And what does this fellow want to do now?" asked the Admiral.
"He wants to come over to our side and work for us," said Fatso. "He's a radio operator and knows a lot about their codes and ciphers. He's also a language specialist and thinks he could be useful to CIA."
The Admiral considered for a moment and then said, "All right. We'll send him back to the States and let CIA figure out what to do with him."
"Oh - and one other thing," said Fatso, "which complicates things a little bit . . . he's a she."
"Hunh? What do you mean?" demanded the Admiral.
"This defector is a woman," said Fatso. "But you'd never know it. We didn't find out till she's been aboard awhile."
"Well, I'll be damned," said the Admiral. "But I don't see that this makes any difference. We'll ship her back to the States and let them worry about that . . . Get her out here today and I'll arrange to have her flown back to the States with an escort . . . Now what else have you been up to, Fatso? You're usually just about one jump ahead of the MP's wherever you go. What else have you been doing since I saw you last?"
"Well - nothin', sir," said Fatso piously. "We've just been going about our business, delivering freight to various places around the Med."
"Uh huh," said the Admiral. "Of course, even if that was so, I wouldn't believe it."
"There was nothing else, sir - at least, nothing else that you'd want to hear about, Admiral," said Fatso.
"Okay," said the Admiral. "Captain, we'll get that Russian gal off your hands today and send her to the States . . . Glad to have seen you again, Fatso . . . Drop in and see me any time you're aboard."
Going back in the boat the Captain said to Fatso, "I didn't know you were so palsy-walsy with the Admiral."
"We've known each other quite a while," said Fatso. "Almost twenty-five years."
"What's this about saving his life?" asked the Captain.
"He was an ensign aviator on the Lexington when we got sunk at the Battle of the Coral Sea. I swam around holding him up for about an hour after the ship went down. Admiral Halsey gave me a medal for it. Old Admiral Bull Halsey just loved to hand out medals."
"Pretty nice to have an in like that with Com Sixth Fleet," remarked the skipper. "The Admiral says he wants to see that Russian today. So let me know as soon as she's ready and I'll send her out."
"Aye aye, sir," said Fatso. "She'll be ready a half hour after we get back."
When Fatso got back to the ship Tania was in the messroom playing accy-dcucy. "Pack up your stuff," said Fatso. "You're going to the States . . . leaving in about half an hour."
"I have nothing to pack but my skindiver's outfit. This is all I have," she said, indicating the suit of dungarees she was wearing. "So I have time to finish this game. This will be the first game of acey-deucy I ever win."
"Okay. Finish your game," said Fatso. "We'll get you a suit of blues and dress you up like a regular sailor. They're going to turn you over to the CIA when you get to the States, and they'll decide what to do with you."
"Korosho!" said Tania. "I've alwavs wanted to see United States."
"They will ask you a lot of stuff about the Russian Navy." said Fatso, "and about codes, ciphers, and communications."
"Okay. I tell them everything I know," said Tania.
"But don't tell them anything about the Egyptian ship," said Fatso. "It's very important to keep that quiet and there's no reason why they should know anything about it. So don't volunteer anv information about it. Not a word. You understand?"
"Okay," said Tania. "I do what you say, Captain."
A half hour later a boat came alongside the Alamos gangwav with an intelligence officer in it. Tania was on deck dressed up in a new apprentice seaman's uniform, and all hands from LCU 1124 were on hand to see her off. She shook hands with each of them, and told Adams she was sorry about his black eye. When she got to Fatso she said, "Captain, I'll luff you as long as I live." She then planted a kiss smack on Fatso's mouth, got in the boat, and shoved off, leaving Fatso completely flabbergasted for the first time in many vears.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Smythe
That afternoon Adams went ashore on liberty. The first thing he did was to stop at a bar and get himself a couple of stiff snorts. After they had taken effect he proceeded uptown to the office of the Time magazine representative, an alert young reporter whose name was Smythe and whose main job was keeping track of the activities of the Sixth Fleet.
"What can I do for you, sailor?" asked Smythe, when Adams was shown into his office by his stenog.
Adams waited till the girl withdrew and then said, "Mr. Smythe, I've got a hell of a story for you - a scoop that will make you famous."
"Well, that's fine," said Smythe. "Always glad to get a good story. What is it?"
"You know that gunboat we built for the Egyptians at Portsmouth?" said Adams. "Then a fake Ecuadorian company bought it and it sailed for the Med and everybody is wondering what the hell became of it?"
"Yes indeed," said Smythe. "I know all about it - except where it is now."
"Well, I've got a hell of an exclusive for you about it," said Adams.
"Okay. Let's have it," said Smythe, getting out a notebook and pencil.
"We've got a little business to settle first," said Adams.
"How do you mean?" asked Smythe.
"How much are you going to pay me
for it?" said Adams. "This is the scoop of the year. It might win you a Pulitzer prize. I ain't giving it to you for nothing."
"How much do you want?" asked Smythe.
"Ten grand." said Adams.
"Now wait a minute," said Smythe. "Ten grand! You must be nuts. You're way out of line with a price like that."
"I don't think so," said Adams. "This will be the feature story on the front pages all over the world when it breaks. It will be the cover story for Life and Look. If you don't want it, either Newsweek or the AP will gobble it up."
"Well, you gotta give me some sort of an idea what the story is all about before we talk that kind of money," said Smythe.
"All right. I'll tell you this much," said Adams. "The Israelis have intercepted that craft and they're taking her in to Haifa. That's a pretty good scoop for you right there. But there's a hell of a lot more to it than that. Real sensational stuff that will stir up an international hassle."
"Okay," said Smythe. "You give me the rest of it, and if Time uses it - as a feature - I'll pay you a thousand bucks."
"Look," said Adams. "Make it two thousand and it's a deal. That's just for the news story. Life and Look will both want my personal story on this and that ain't included in this deal."
"Okay," said Smythe. "Two thousand. Now let's have it."
"And first of all, I want fifty bucks cash money right now," said Adams. "And a memo from you on Time stationery about the rest of it."
Smythe did a little mental figuring. After all, the whereabouts of the Egyptian gunboat was the big mystery in all the world's newsrooms at the present moment. If the Israelis really had captured her, this was indeed a scoop that would make him famous. If the story turned out to be a dud, he could probably slip the fifty bucks in on his swindle sheet and get away with it.
"Okay," he said. He picked up his pen and wrote on an office memo pad, "Time magazine hereby promises to pay Seaman Adams $1,950.00 for exclusive story on Egyptian gunboat, if the story checks out." Then he signed it, took fifty dollars out of his wallet, handed the memo and the money to Adams, and said, "All right. Let's have the story now."
So Adams related the whole story to Smythe, including Tania's part in it. He told how a U.S. Navy ship had impersonated a Russian, had boarded the Egyptian at sea and brought her in to Naples. He told how the Israelis had sneaked aboard and captured it right there in the amphibious base at Naples the night before, and were now on their way to Haifa with her. By the time he got to the end, Smythe was in a dither of excitement. "Gawd almighty, Adams," he said, "this is a hell of a story. This will blow the roof off the State Department, Pentagon, and White House. There will be hell to pay about this. But I've got to have something more than just your word for it."
"Well, all the fellas on the ship are ashore this afternoon and won't be back until late tonight," said Adams. "You come down to the Alamo first thing in the morning and you can check it with all the other guys in the crew. But that has nothing to do with the deal between you and me for the story."
"Okay," said Smythe. "I'll be aboard first thing in the morning. Meantime, I'll check with Commander in Chief Allied Forces Southern Europe."
"I doubt if he'll know anything at all about it," said Adams.
"Well, he can check the Sixth Fleet and find out," said Smythe.
"I don't think Sixth Fleet knows anything about it either," said Adams. "And neither one of them would admit it even if they knew all about it."
"Well, I'll check with them anyway," said Smythe. "And I'll be aboard the Alamo at nine o'clock tomorrow morning. Meantime, keep your mouth shut about this. You tell anybody else about it and our deal is off."
On that note Adams adjourned to the nearest bar and Smythe got a cab to the HQ of Commander in Chief Allied Forces Southern Europe.
C in C Allied Forces Southern Europe is one of the major NATO commands in Europe. It is a joint command consisting of allied armies, navies, and air forces and staffed by high-ranking officers from all the countries of western Europe. The C in C was a four-star U.S. Navy Admiral, who among the many forces available to him counted the Sixth Fleet. The Admiral knew Smythe well and cordially detested him as he did nearly all members of the press. But he knew which side his bread was buttered on, so he handled them all with fur-lined silk gloves.
Arriving at the Admiral's HQ in a palatial villa on the outskirts of town, Smythe went first to the public relations officer, Captain Twiggers.
"Hello, Smythe," said Twiggers. "What can we do for you today?"
"I'm trying to check out a hell of a story," said Smvthc.
"Okay," said Twiggers. "We'll be glad to help you in any way we can within the limits of security. What do you want to know?"
"This is a matter on which I'll want to see the Admiral," said Smythe.
"Umm," said Twiggers. "Well, can you give me some idea what it is all about? The Admiral is pretty busy, and he's hard to get to."
"It's about the Egyptian gunboat that slipped out of Hampton Roads and was sighted passing through Gib the other day," said Smythe. "I'll give the full details to the Admiral."
Captain Twiggers pricked up his ears right away. That Egyptian gunboat had been the hottest potato on their situation board ever since she sailed from Hampton Roads.
"Just what do you want to know about her?" asked Twiggers.
"I've got all the dope I want on her," said Smythe. "I want to check on what the Sixth Fleet has been doing about her."
"I can tell you that," said Twiggers. "It hasn't done a damned thing. We don't know where it is. Sixth Fleet has had air searchers out looking for it for the past week, but we haven't seen hide nor hair of it."
"I have reason to believe otherwise," said Smythe. "And I want to talk to the Admiral about it."
"Don't you believe what I'm telling you?" bristled Twiggers.
"You may not know about this yet," said Smythe. "This is top-level stuff that would be held very closely. I want to see the Admiral about it."
"All right," said Twiggers. "I'll see if he can fit you in. Wait here. I'll be back in a few minutes."
In the anteroom of the Admiral's office there were several WAVES, a chief yeoman, and a marine orderly, presided over by a sharp-looking young lieutenant in immaculate uniform with gold aiguillettes on his shoulders. When Twiggers said he wanted to see the Admiral, the Flag Lieutenant flipped aside the cover to a small peephole in the wall alongside his desk and peeked in at the Admiral. The old gentleman was seated at his large mahogany desk puffing on a cigar and poring over a document with a pencil in his hand. The aide flipped a switch on the squawk box and announced, "Captain Twiggers to see you, sir."
"Okay, send him in," said the Admiral, shoving the crossword puzzle on which he was working into his top drawer.
The orderly opened the door to the inner sanctum and Twiggers went in.
"Admiral," he said, "Smythe of Time magazine would like to see you."
"That nosy little son of a bitch again?" asked the Admiral. "What the hell does he want?"
"It's about that Egyptian gunboat from Hampton Roads," said Twiggers. "He claims he has a hot story on her."
"Humph," said the Admiral. "I doubt if he knows a damned thing about her. He's probably just fishing for information and fixing to write a nasty piece about the Sixth Fleet for not intercepting her. All right. Bring him in."
Smythe came right to the point. "Admiral," he said, "I've got a story on that Egyptian gunboat that everybody is wondering about. I want to check it with you."
"Well, what's the story?" asked the Admiral guardedly.
"The story is that she has been intercepted by the Israelis. They have taken her over and she's on her way to Haifa now," said Smythe.
"Well - that's good news, if it's true," said the Admiral. "Where did you get this story from?"
"From one of your sailors, sir," said Smythe. "He claims his ship had a lot to do with it. Actually captured it and turned it over to the Israelis."
"Ridiculo
us," said the Admiral. "If you believe all the stories you hear from sailors you won't be working for Time magazine much longer."
"Well, this lad told a fantastic story, all right," said Smythe, "but somehow or other I believe it." He then related the whole story about how a ship of the Sixth Fleet had posed as a Russian, intercepted the Egyptian, and persuaded her to let them take over. They had brought her in to the U.S. Navy amphibious base in Naples, where she was taken over by a crew of Israelis, and she was now on her way to Haifa.
As he was talking a look of incredulous disdain came across the Admiral's face. When he finished the Admiral sniffed scornfully and said, "That's the most fantastic yarn I've heard in a long time. It's absurd. I don't think even Time will fall for a fairy story like that one."
"This just happened at the amphibious base last night," said Smythe. "Maybe word about it hasn't got up the line to you yet. How about checking with Com Sixth Fleet about it?"
"Sixth Fleet would have informed me instantly about this," said the Admiral. "But if it will make you feel any better I'll check with him, although it's just a waste of time." He buzzed for his aide and said, "Get me Com Sixth Fleet on the scrambler phone."
A minute later the red phone on the Admiral's desk rang and a voice said, "Good afternoon, sir. Admiral Hughes here."
"Joe," said the Admiral, "I've got a Time reporter sitting here in my office now with a fantastic story about a small ship in vour fleet intercepting that Egyptian gunboat, boarding and capturing her, and turning her over to the Israelis."
"Wait a minute," said Hughes. "There seems to be something wrong with this phone. Now . . . would you mind saying that again?"
The Admiral repeated.
"Yeah. That's what it sounded like the first time," said Hughes. "There isn't a word of truth in it. I've got the America scouring the African coast for that craft, and we haven't seen hide nor hair of her."
"This Time man claims she was brought into the amphibious base here by your people," said the Admiral. "He says they turned her over to the Israelis and the Israelis sailed with her for Haifa last night."
Away Boarders Page 19