Medusa

by Hammond Innes

  But, listening to that news, it was clear everybody was waiting upon Moscow, and Moscow was saying nothing, for the moment. Towards the end there was a reference to a British frigate being on a courtesy visit to the island, and the Foreign Secretary, in answer to a question in the House, had made a statement to the effect that if the ship was molested in any way the Captain would be fully entitled to take any action he felt appropriate. In other words, the responsibility for anything which might happen was Gareth’s. No wonder the poor devil had asked us to pray for him!

  Comments followed from BBC reporters in various capitals, but by then I was on the phone, enquiring about Soo. The Renatos first, but they were out and the others I contacted knew nothing. In desperation I tried the hospital, but the line was either engaged or out of order. I went down the stairs again. The store was locked and no sign of Ramón. But he had been there that morning for he had signed out paint, varnish and anti-fouling to Rodriguez who was the only one left working on the boats. Life went on, it seemed.

  I returned to the office, put the typewriter back on the desk and sat there staring out of the window to the lit frigate, wondering what the hell had happened here, where they had taken her, and why – why, for God’s sake? Until I knew that… A door slammed, feet on the stairs, and before she burst in I knew who it was. ‘Thank God you’re here,’ she cried. ‘I’ve been searching everywhere. Have you found her?’

  ‘No. When did you discover she had gone?’

  ‘This afternoon. Some time around four.’ And she added, speaking breathlessly, ‘Soo was all right this morning. We had breakfast together.’ She had come straight here, she said, after leaving Lennie and myself at the pontoon and had phoned, first the Military HQ, then the Naval Base. ‘I don’t think it did any good. It took so long to get hold of anybody in authority.’ She sank into the armchair by the window. ‘God! I’m tired now. What do you think happened? The typewriter was on the floor, that chair broken, everything a mess. She’d put up a fight before they could drag her away. Who were they? Have you any idea?’ Her eyes bulged as she stared at me. ‘No, of course you haven’t.’

  ‘Did you go into the bedroom?’ I asked.

  ‘Yes, of course. I searched the whole house.’

  ‘You didn’t see the dog?’

  ‘No.’

  So the poor little beast had been so scared at what had happened it must have hidden itself under the bed. ‘And there was no mess?’ She shook her head. ‘Then it looks as though they came for her late morning, around lunchtime.’

  ‘Yes, but who?’ She was slumped there, staring miserably at the water below, her big capable hands folded in her lap. One of the side zippers of her jeans had slipped to show a little bulge of brown flesh. She was as swarthy as an Indian. ‘The police or these new people? Do they know you’re back, here in Mahon? There must be a reason. There’s always a reason.’

  ‘We’ll know in due course.’ A note of resignation had crept into my voice.

  ‘I’ll make some tea.’ She bounced to her feet, her face suddenly alive again, the relief of something positive revitalising her. ‘Or would you prefer a drink?’

  ‘No,’ I said. ‘Tea will do fine.’ I didn’t care what I had.

  When she came back I was still sitting there. ‘Noon,’ I said.

  ‘You think that’s when it happened?’ She poured a cup and passed it to me.

  ‘No, he was given till noon.’ I told her about the new harbour master, his visit to Medusa and how, after the deadline was up, Fuxá himself had gone out to see Gareth. ‘But he hasn’t moved. He’s still there and lit up like a Christmas tree.’

  ‘What are those ships doing there?’ She had poured herself a cup and was sitting down again, lying half back in the chair.

  ‘Waiting to tow him out,’ I said.

  ‘Well, why don’t they?’ She was staring out of the window towards the fairy outline of the frigate bright against the dark bulk of the peninsula behind. ‘Oh, I see. They’re anchored.’ She turned and looked at me. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he’s threatened to blow them out of the water if they come any nearer.’ And as I told her what I thought the purpose of his presence here in Mahon was I could see the same thought was in both our minds.

  ‘What are you suggesting? That they’ve taken Soo because … Oh no, surely not. How would they know?’ She was leaning forward now, staring at me, her eyes wide and appalled. We both knew what she meant.

  ‘There was gossip,’ I said. ‘There must have been gossip.’

  ‘Oh yes, there was plenty of that – after she lost the baby. In a place like this, a tight little circle, tongues wag all the time. Gareth here, a British naval officer – they would have had their eyes on him anyway, but after what happened … And there was you and me. Our friends made a meal of it.’ And she added, frowning, ‘But are you really suggesting Soo could be used as a hostage in that way, to force Gareth to take his ship out of Mahon?’

  ‘I don’t know. They might think it a possibility.’ I shook my head, the warmth of the tea comforting. ‘Anyway, it’s the only motive that occurs to me.’

  ‘So who do we contact?’

  There was only one person I could think of. ‘Evans.’ But how to reach him? ‘Where’s Fuxá established himself, do you know?’

  ‘Esmerelda said he’d taken over the Military Government Headquarters block on Isabel II.’

  ‘That makes sense. I’ll phone there.’ I drank the rest of my tea and was just getting to my feet when Petra leaned forward, peering intently through the window.

  ‘Wait a minute. There’s a boat coming in.’

  As it came alongside our quay I saw it was Medusa’s launch. A young midshipman jumped ashore. It was a boy named Masterton. He glanced quickly left and right as though to make certain he wasn’t going to be challenged, then scuttled quickly across the road. The bell sounded and I went down. ‘Good evening, sir. Captain’s compliments and would you be good enough to join him on board. He says it’s important.’ And he handed me a note.

  It was very short and had clearly been dashed off in a hurry: I am sending the launch for you. Something has occurred that you should know about. It concerns Soo. Hurry, it’s urgent. Gareth.

  Petra was at my elbow and I passed it on to her. ‘It’s what we feared.’ I grabbed my anorak. ‘Look after the dog, will you? Take it round to the restaurant if you’re not spending the night here. They look after it sometimes.’ I found a key for her, checked that I had my own, and then I was across the road and into the launch. ‘Is there somebody with the Captain?’ I asked the youngster as we swung away from the quay and headed for the lit outline of the frigate.

  ‘Not at the moment, sir. But I think he’s expecting someone.’

  ‘Who? Do you know?’

  But he couldn’t tell me that. ‘There’s been quite a bit of coming and going. First of all it was the President’s personal aide in a speedboat out of Cala Llonga, then it was the President himself. That was just after midday.’ There had apparently been other visitors, but they had come out from Cala Llonga, which was why I had not seen them. None of them, except Fuxa, had been allowed on board. ‘The Captain says that’s because we don’t recognise the new government here.’

  ‘What about the three launches that came out from Port Mahon just as it was getting dark?’ I asked him. ‘One man was allowed on board. Do you know who he was?’

  ‘No, sir. A seaman of some sort.’

  ‘Is he still there?’

  ‘No. He went off towards Cala Llonga in the harbour launch. I heard him say he was going to fetch somebody. The other boats have gone, but we’ve still got three ships anchored near. They wanted to tow us out, but our Captain wasn’t having that.’ And he added, ‘What’s it like ashore, sir? It all looks very normal from where we’re anchored, though we can hear firing sometimes away to the south, towards the airport.’

  Excited to be caught up in an event that was world news, he chatted on like that all the
way out to the green-flashing beacon on the south side of Bloody Island. It slid past us very close, the bulk of the hospital a solid backdrop, the tower outlined against the stars, and I was wondering what Gareth intended to do, how I could persuade him that Soo’s life was more important than his career. I was leaning against the canopy, the beat of the engine pulsing through my body and the launch already swinging in a wide arc to come alongside, the lit outline of the frigate growing larger.

  There was no other reason that I could see for what had happened. If somebody had told them the commander of the British frigate was in love with my wife … But did they really believe the man would take his ship to sea without specific orders? Thinking it over, it seemed barely possible, but then men who live by violence often find it difficult to accept that others are governed by a code of social behaviour and operate within the framework of a disciplined order. I had seen something of that myself. The idea that every man has his price is mirrored in the belief that violence is totally effective in changing people’s minds. Why else use torture?

  It was that thought that was in my mind as we slid alongside the frigate’s accommodation ladder and I stepped out on to the wooden grating. The sudden rush to leave Malta, the way Gareth had dropped his anchor in about the most conspicuous position in the whole long inlet, the blazing lights above my head – the ship was there for a purpose, and that purpose could only be to act as a block to any power thinking of supporting a rebel regime unopposed. If I was right, then Soo’s life was of total unimportance as compared with the job Lieutenant Commander Lloyd Jones RN had been sent here to do. Her death, even her torture, could make no difference, and knowing that, I felt sick with fear as I climbed the gangway.

  I was met at the top by one of the officers, I can’t remember who. He took me to the Captain’s day cabin where we had breakfasted – was it only that morning? I barely heard him tell me the Captain would be with me shortly as I tried to marshal my arguments, my mind perversely concentrated on all the forms of torture I had heard and read about, a picture there as vivid as the day I had seen it – on a beach in Mali, a palm-frond hut, and lying there in his own excreta with the flies crawling, the only man I have ever seen tortured to death. His face – I could see his face still, the lips chewed to ribbons, the teeth protruding white and the eyes starting from his head. And then I was thinking of Soo as I had last seen her, laughing as she had left me on the quay at Addaia.

  I went over to the settee and sat down, suddenly tired, the two images merging, so that in my mind’s eye I saw them as one, the Arab’s tortured features superimposed on Soo’s. I don’t remember how long I sat there, numbed at the vision of what might happen to her if Gareth didn’t take his ship out of Mahon. This wasn’t just a matter of Ismail Fuxá and his personal ambitions. It was bigger than that, much bigger, Fuxá just a pawn in a game being played far away from Menorca behind closed doors. Political figures with hot lines and satellites at their disposal. A young woman, held as a hostage – that was nothing. A unit of flesh. Disposable. Just as this ship was disposable, the men I had lived with on the hurried run from Malta …

  ‘Glad we were able to contact you.’ His voice was flat. It seemed tired, and he didn’t smile as he crossed the cabin, pulled up a chair and sat down facing me. ‘I don’t know how long we’ve got. Not long.’ He sounded resigned, his face grey as though he hadn’t slept for a long time. I thought he had aged since I had seen him that morning, the broad forehead puckered deeper, the lines at the corners of eyes and mouth more pronounced, and he just sat there staring at me dumbly.

  ‘Where is she?’ I asked.

  He gave a little shrug. But he didn’t say anything. It was as though he didn’t know how to begin.

  ‘They’ve contacted you, have they?’

  He nodded.

  ‘So where is she? Where is she being held?’

  ‘Then you know.’ He seemed relieved, the knowledge that he hadn’t got to break the news to me releasing his tongue. ‘I sent across to Bloody Island for you as soon as it was dark, but you weren’t there. Then we saw lights in your place at Cala Figuera, so I took a chance and sent young Leslie Masterton in to see if you were there. I’m glad you were.’ His eyes were fixed on me. ‘What happened? Do you know?’

  I told him briefly of the scene that had greeted me, and then, unable to restrain myself, I burst out, ‘It wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t pushed your way into our lives. It’s your bloody fault. All your fault.’ And seeing that image again in my mind’s eye, I leaned forward and grabbed hold of him. ‘Who was it came for her? Who were they that grabbed her so brutally. Benjie – that little dog of ours – was shit scared. He’s always so clean, and a brave little beast normally. Those bastards must have been rough with her.’

  ‘All right, all right.’ He was holding up his hand, pleading with me. ‘You’ve told me how they took her, and you’re right, it’s because of me. I’m sorry. It’s my fault.’ And then, his voice suddenly stronger, ‘But it’s happened. You have to accept that. We both do.’ His tone took on a note of authority. ‘The question now is how we handle the situation. They started piling on the pressure for me to take the ship out shortly after two o’clock local time, an emissary from some sort of military commander. He came out in a speedboat from Cala Llonga. I wouldn’t allow him on board, of course, and I told him my position was unchanged – I could only put to sea when I had orders to do so. The same thing I had told that man Fuxa. Until then I would remain here. He came out once more, threatening to open fire on me, and I warned him that if he did so I had the authority of the British Government to take what action I considered necessary to defend my ship. In short, I asked him to tell his general not to be a bloody fool and push me that hard.’

  ‘Soo,’ I said. ‘What about Soo?’ My voice was too high and I tried to get a grip on myself. ‘All you’ve talked about so far is your problem. I’m not interested. It’s my wife I’m concerned about.’

  ‘Do you think I’m not concerned? What the hell do you take me for?’ He straightened his shoulders, his hands clasped tightly. ‘I’m sorry.’ The anger was gone from his voice. ‘My problems are my own. I agree. But they do concern you.’

  ‘No, you,’ I said. ‘Not me. My concern –’

  He suddenly banged the coffee table between us. ‘Will you listen, for God’s sake. I’ve told you. We haven’t much time. And my position, as Captain of one of HM ships, is very relevant to what has happened to Soo. I have my orders, and the fact that she’s a hostage –’ He was interrupted by a knock and his eyes flicked to the doorway. ‘Come in, Leading Seaman Stanway.’ He was always very punctilious about rank and I had to sit silent while he went through a whole sheaf of messages.

  ‘We may be an old ship,’ he said, as he dismissed the young seaman, ‘but they’ve fitted us out with a pretty sophisticated communications set-up so I’m getting a steady stream of messages, news briefs, and of course we’re picking up secret naval information and orders. Besides Victor Sykes, who is not only fluent in Spanish, but also speaks French, German and Italian, I have a man on loan from one of the oil companies who speaks a number of the Arab languages, also a PO who has recently completed a Russian language course.’ He was still looking down at the messages in his hand. ‘That Russian cruiser was sighted visually just south of Spartivento at 16.03. She was steaming at thirty knots plus. The course and speed of the other ships I mentioned suggest that they will rendezvous with her fourteen miles east of La Mola shortly after midnight. So it’s like I said, we haven’t much time.’

  ‘Time for what?’ I was losing patience with him. ‘It’s Soo I’m worried about. I want to know where she is, whether she’s all right, and I want her back – safe.’

  He didn’t say anything, his hands clasped tight on the wadge of papers, his shoulders stooping forward. God! he looked tired, as though the weight of the world was on his shoulders and it was too much for him. ‘There’s a signal here says a D-20 class destroyer, two fr
igates and some fast attack craft have just left Barcelona. They’ll be joined by a couple of subs.’ Even his voice sounded tired. ‘There’s some French warships about to sail from Toulon. They’re too far away, of course, and they’re not members of Nato. The Italians are even further. The earliest any of those ships can be off the entrance here is 03.00. That’ll be at least two hours too late.’

  ‘Why are you telling me this?’ But I knew why. I had been right about his role, ‘You’re going to stay here. Is that what you’re saying?’

  He shrugged, an almost Gallic gesture, the palms of his hands spread.

  Silence then, both of us thinking our own thoughts. He got slowly to his feet and began pacing up and down. Could I still persuade him? ‘If you could pretend to leave. A gesture. Enough at least to get them to return her …’

  He turned on me then, his voice rising on a note of anger as he said, ‘Don’t be a fool, man. You’re not dealing with amateurs.’ And he added, ‘You don’t know Pat. I do. He’s cold-blooded, ruthless. That’s his nature, and all his adult life he’s lived in the cold-blooded, ruthless world of violence and terrorism.’

  ‘But he let you go,’ I said. ‘That’s what you told me, sitting right here at your desk. You said he dropped you overboard up-tide of the buoy, so you’d drift down on it. And you promised you wouldn’t tell anyone who he was.’

  He nodded, standing in the centre of the cabin, a silhouette against the light so that I couldn’t see the expression on his face. ‘Yes.’ His voice was toneless. ‘He gave me my life, and I made a promise.’

  ‘Why? The blood tie? The fact that you share the same father. Is that why he saved your life?’

  ‘No.’ And after a moment he went on slowly, ‘No, I don’t think it was that, more a matter of putting me in his debt. I’ve never been a part of Pat’s world, so I can’t be sure, but I have an idea that, besides the ruthlessness, there’s a primitive sense of loyalty. You do somebody a good turn, then you’re in credit with him and some day you can make a claim on him.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I’ll find out about that soon enough. Won’t be long now.’