lips at the sea, which had worked up during the night into
long swells on the heels of the fresh north-easterly gale. The driving overcast ceiling seemed no more than a couple of hundred feet as Bellatrix shouldered her way through the greyness. Adele brought us coffee in the dim light which passed for daybreak. Her eyes were on me, sharing our secret of the night. André would not be refused the privilege of steering Bellatrix. It did not need Adele to translate that he was in his seventh heaven.
MKG read the President's message with satisfaction when Peace first handed it to him, but when Thornton came on the air within half an hour, he was silent.
Thornton signalled the Chief of Naval Operations:
Tyler interrogated by me personally x endorse his view Marvin K. Green kidnapped x one of the kidnappers using name Geoffrey Peace bracket presume fake since Peace is dead unbracket French freighter Semittanté carry- ing deck cargo purporting to be coconut oil processing plant x it is in fact United States classified experimental missile Little Bear x Semittanté cleared Mauritius Feb- ruary 3 present whereabouts unknown x Tyler also asserts that Vice-President intends to be launched to Santa Fe Moon Station One in Little Bear from unspecified point Sea of Limuria on unspecified date but presumed within n e x t f e w d a y s x r e p e a t V i c e - P r e s i d e n t i n t e n d s t o b e launched to Santa Fe Moon Station One in Little Bear 159
missile x Commander British submarine Devastation says he unaware all this x have deployed Seventh Fleet into three HUK groups for grid search entire Sea of Limuria x search impeded general cyclone warning x number radar contacts St Brandon reef and neighbouring islets under investigation eyeball check x
MKG said, ' After that, I feel I need a hooker of rye. If it had not been for this message of the President's to me, I'd call it a day so far as Little Bear is concerned. In the light of it, we must go on, but it sure looks as though we're up the creek.'
Peace's face was bleak. Up the creek, certainly, but with
two paddles—Semittanté and Bellatrix.' He nodded beyond the streaming windows. ' I have a cyclone, I have a wide,
wide sea. The sea has always been my friend.'
Up to now we've gotten along just jim-dandy,' MKG
mused, but now I wonder ..
Peace said briskly, Perhaps the recall signal has already
gone out to the Seventh Fleet from the President.' MKG shrugged. Then where is it?'
Peace said, Adele was dead on her feet last night. There
was no regular radio watch.'
He looked keenly at Peace. Then what about the President's signal to me?'
I took it,' Peace replied. It was Royal Navy code. I
recognized Bellatrix's call-sign'
Perhaps in view of its importance, Adele could check ...'
I checked it myself,' he retorted. There's no need.'
In the middle of this, Adele handed Peace a decoded
signal:
CIC Seventh Fleet to C-in-C British Limuria Command x top secret x where is yacht Bellatrix? x is Peace alive or dead? x where is Garland?
Before he had finished reading it out to us, the reply had
come in:
C-in-C British Limuria Command to CIC Seventh Fleet x top secret x Bellatrix sailed February 1 ex Mahé Gar- land in command x believed destination South Africa via Madagascar x Peace is dead x you were there x Peace read it out triumphantly to MKG. Yoh see, Little Bear is still very much on in the Dm's view, and that means he must also have been in touch with the President,' he said. Otherwise he wouldn't have replied in these terms.'
The DNI'S certainly playing it cool,' was MKG's rejoinder. Bellatrix drove on.
By early afternoon there was more encouragement for us.
160
Thornton, commanding Blue Force, called in his terriers in
the face of impossible weather between St Brandon and Chagos. Looking at our driving overcast—we were 600 miles from Blue Force—I marvelled at the intrepidity of the American fliers in staying in the air for as long as they had. Tyler began recalling his dogs, too, as the cyclone marched inexorably towards him. They did not stand a chance of getting within real striking distance of Bellatrix. Green Force, far away to the south, reported ship contacts south and south-west of Mauritius, but one after another they were getting clearance.
What worried MKG, however, was that news of the massive American search was starting to become public. Mauritius Radio, usually at the fag-end of world news, did not realize yet that it would soon be the focal point of world attention. The midday bulletin, put across with amateur fervour, said: Powerful forces of American carrier-based aircraft swept across the harbour of Port Louis at intervals this morning in a south and south-westerly direction. Vessels entering the harbour report that they have been investigated and interrogated by the aircraft. The United States Consul in Mauritius denies all knowlege of the operation. It is, however, presumed that these squadrons are part of the American Seventh Fleet which is nomally based on the Seychelles, and listeners may well ask themselves, for what purpose is this task force so far from its base . .
The radio cut as Bellatrix leaned heavily to leeward. She - came back quickly and rolled her starboard side under. For. a moment the screen wipers churned green sea. Above the growl of the wave-punch came the sound of tearing, splintering. Peace and I reached the wheelhouse door together. The luxury wooden gangplank, lashed to the side, cartwheeled and vanished overboard. The starboard boat, torn from its davits, bumped along the deck until it hit the rail aft, poised for a moment, and then
disappeared too. Metal stanchions were left twisted and
snapped in its wake.
' And the cyclone hasn't hit us yet,' remarked Peace. He glanced at the clock. ' Two hours still before we can really start looking for Semittanté:
Two hours—it seemed like two years. Peace, Trevor-Davis and I rigged relieving tackles on the streamlined mast and repaired the radio aerial. The lack of operational messages seemed to create a silence in which all listened for Semittanté
—waiting, waiting. The hull seemed to develop a whip-lash tendency as Peace drove the yacht, often bows under with. André fighting the wheel, into the increasing sea. He would HK.
161
not slow down. ' Clyde-built,' was all he said. She'll take it—till she dives under.'
The wheelhouse gratings were awash ; we hung on to anything we could find. Adele jammed herself on a tiny stool by the diminutive chart-table to operate the radio.
Shortly after 3 o'clock Adele held up her hand and turned
up the volume on the merchant shipping band. It was the
message which we had dreaded. It said, in plain language:
' This is the commander of the United States Seventh Fleet
in the St Brandon area. I am calling the French freighter
Semittanth . . . Semittanth . . . Semittanth . . . report your position immediately please on this wavelength.'
We crowded round the set, gripping one another's shoulders
like a Rugby scrum to keep steady in the heavy pitching.
' Any ship or aircraft knowing the whereabouts of the
French freighter Semittanté must report immediately.'
We could pass Semittanth at a couple of miles and not see her in this weather,' said Peace, grim-faced. He turned to
Adele. Tell Andre—there's an old ship hereabouts. We must find her—soon.'
She spoke rapidly in Creole and translated his reply. ' She'll be that way . . .' She pointed to leeward.
I said, I've been making a rough offset allowance, taking
wind force and run of the sea into consideration, but my
calculations are purely hit and miss.'
Peace switched on the yacht's radar. The cathode screen
glowed. He worked slowly round the compass. Nothing.' '
What's the radar's range?' asked MKG.
Ten, maybe twelve. Could be anything in this sea, the
way we're lifting.'
The radio blared: Semittanté . . . calling the French freighter Semittanté .. . report your position immediately . The rain drilled against the wheelhouse. Peace said irritably, John, make a sweep round, will you—round and bloody round.'
The green light circled. The screen remained blank. I looked up as the wheelhouse grew momentarily brighter. The
rain eased ; there was a break in the driving wrack.
André called and pointed excitedly. Adele, wide-eyed, crouched at the radio, repeated, ° A ship —a ship!—to port—
to leeward!'
Peace was at the old fisherman's side in a flash. I fixed the radar on the quadrant he had indicated. It was empty. The
greyness stretched away into a gauze-murk horizon of a mile or less.
162
André gestured at the controls. He says you're going too
fast—you're passing her,' supplied Adele.
Peace yanked back the engine-room telegraph. MKG'S eyes went from the radar screen to the old fisherman. If I were a horse-player, my money would be on the radar.'
André spoke quickly to Adele. There's a ship out there—
he feels it—he caught a glimpse of her in that clear patch.'
Tell him the radar shows nothing,' said Peace.
She translated and grinned. He says that thing has no
soul. Fishermen and ships share the sea between them .. there!'
For a moment something that wasn't the grey heave of the
sea showed broad on the beam, a line of deeper grey and
breaking water.
By God!' I exclaimed. I saw her!'
André gave the helm a spoke or two. Bellatrix high-kicked.
' It was only a whitecap—you can kid yourself so easily,'
said Peace. He fiddled with the radar. Wait, though, something here—not at all firm .. André and I shouted together. Westwards, in a stray patch
of sunlight, was a ship, rolling and pitching in the heavy
swell, whiteness under her single screw.
Put that thing off!' I called to Peace. We've got her!
No need to endanger our position.'
Adele's radio said, Semittanté . . . calling French freighter Semittanté . . . report your position on this wavelength .. If she does so now, it's the giveaway for both Semittanté and Bellatrix,' commented MKG. One fix and Thornton will dispatch half a dozen subs. Weather doesn't worry them, five hundred feet down.'
No response from her yet?' Peace demanded anxiously of
Adele.
Not yet.'
John!' he said harshly. GO and get me the Remington. Take the .38 Special for Mac. Find yourself an axe.'. He turned on Trevor-Davis. You conn the yacht—Andres a
magnificent helsman but you'll have to say it with signs.'
He quickly outlined the hand-signs which had brought us through the reef. He turned back to me. ' I'll take the bridge, Mac the engine-room. Yours is target No. 1, John—
smash the radio before she can get off a message.' As he
spoke, the colour drained from Adele's face.
John—' she began.
I stopped her. ' It's got to be done.'
Peace said, Boz Blair and his team can-be a big help, if
we can get it over to them what this is all about.'
163
I'll call 'em up on the loud-hailer,' MKG suggested. ' Tell them it's me—there's time before we go aboard.'
Peace stopped him. You're staying right here, MKG.' I'
m fit—fitter than any of you,' he protested.
Peace said, It isn't funny, jumping in a sea like this at the end of a rope from one ship to another. We can't afford to let you smash a rib or a leg.'
Trevor-Davis offered, I'll lay alongside in the lee. The
going will be easier for you there.'
Peace nodded.
What . . . what will you do to the crew?' Adele asked in
an anguished voice.
Peace laughed. We're not pirates—yet. Odds are that
they'll be so surprised they won't offer any resistance. Particularly if we can get word to Boz Blair.'
There's Boz and four others,' MKG reminded us.
Adele said, I'll try and jam anything Semittanté tries to send.'
Peace looked at her appreciatively. ' Good girl. If you're
as successful as you were with Willowtrack, we should be okay. John, get the guns will you?'
In Peace's cabin I took the sinister Remington from its
case. It sat easily on my hand and the big stock, which looked cumbersome, was in fact beautifully balanced. I shoved a
box of shells into my pocket and grabbed the Colt I had
taken from the unknown intruder.
Mac's engine-room was cleaner even than a nuclear sub's,
which itself looks like an operating theatre. The crash of
seas seemed louder below.
Mac eyed my pistols. Thinking of murder?'
I explained quickly and a sinister grin spread over Mac's
face. He took the Colt and spat into the muzzle.
Aye,' he said. It's like I said when we thought he was
lying deid in t'coffin—we'd be a power poorer without our bluidy bastard skipper.'
He grinned again and slipped a monkey-wrench into the
back of his overalls. Together we went back to the wheelhouse. We found Peace bending over the compass housing. He had unscrewed the glass with his flick-knife.
What on earth . . .?'
His face was flushed with excitement at the prospect of •
the coming action. Listen—in this weather, we can't very well turn the French crew adrift in their boats unless we really want to murder them. We'll give them Bellatrix.
I couldn't believe my ears. But they'll simply radio
Thornton—shadow us in Semittanté!'
164
Just that,' he grinned. Once we've cleaned up the crew,
we'll come back aboard here and smash up Bellatrix's radio, radar and the gyros. We'll have to come back anyway for
my diving suit, radio, code-book. The French will have to
rely on the magnetic compass—this one. We'll set our course into the heart of the storm. Skipper du Plessis, righteously mad, will follow us—while he can see. As soon as it's dark, he'll shadow our daylight course by compass. What he won't
know is that there's a knife-blade in here which will throw him ten degrees out. Sooner or later either Red Force or
Blue Force will pick him up—he'll run right into their arms.'
Trevor-Davis shook his head sadly. To regard a lovely
craft like this as expendable...'
You gave me the idea, John,' said Peace. You said
Bellatrix was a liability. Now, with the Frenchman, she's become an asset to us—the perfect decoy.'
André said something and we followed his pointing hand, '
He says Semittanté is turning away.'
Anything on the radio, Adele?'
Nothing from her. Plenty of " report your position " from Thornton.'
Perhaps she's spotted us,' suggested MKG.
She doesn't know about Bellatrix,' rejoined Peace. ' I'd say she was merely easing off the wind.'
The old-fashioned stern of the tramp, which must have'
been built about the time Red Raborn confounded the critics with the first Polaris, rose and fell in the trough.
' Look!' I exclaimed.
`Little Bear!' mKG gasped.
There it was, lashed on the deck askew from the starboard
railing towards the stern on the other side: a long wooden
crate about eight feet square and sixty long, looking like a number of automobile shipment crates fixed together.
I'll call her first on the loud-hailer,' said Peace. ' If she'll let the pirates aboard peaceably, so much the better'
Andre under Trevor-Davis's guidance clos
ed in. A heavy
sea broke over the tramp's rusty bows and creamed over
winches and hatches. An oilskinned figure appeared on the
bridge wing.
Semittanté . . . report your position . .
The voice was obliterated by a clatter of Morse. Adele
whispered, ' United States Seventh Fleet, this is Semittanté Jam him, for Christ's sake,' snarled Peace. He grabbed
André by the shoulder. Alongside! Quick!'
Andre understood. He read the meaning of the guns in
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our hands. He spun the wheel and opened the throttle Bellatrix was back on the auto gear. MKG switched on the loud-hailer. He deliberately made his vowels longer. Boz!' he called imperatively. Boz—it's Marvin Green here—MKG! Do you hear! A couple of
Limeys are coming aboard with hand-guns—help 'em, willya
All I saw was the rusty, red-leaded side of the plunging
old tramp looming like a skyscraper. André shaved round the stern and banging screw into the quieter water in her lee.
Trevor-Davis looked enquiringly at us, waiting for the
right moment.
Peace jacked a shell into the Remington, snapped home the
bolt. Come on!'
Mac and I raced with him to the twisted starboard decking.
Semittanté lurched towards us, the red-painted patches grinning like bloodied lips as the high side sought to crush the slender yacht. Then the sea spurted and the hulls drew apart, like an outward-facing V. Peace shouted an oath at TrevorDavis and André, but his voice was lost in the cavern of boiling seas. Down went Bellatrix until we looked into the foul bilge vents of the old tramp, and then sky-rocketed on the next wave. Peace swung a Jacob's ladder of thin nylon rope in his hand. A shot crashed out: a man with a gun, in yellow oilskins, stood at the head of the bridge ladder. The strike of the bullet was lost in the noise. Even under the whip of excitement I admired Trevor-Davis's handling of the yacht: she rose past a scum-shrouded porthole to deck level and he held her there.
Jump!' yelled Peace.
We leaped as one man. Peace landed agilely on the ship's
rail and dropped to her deck. But the wet wood slipped from under my feet and I crashed down. Bellatrix fell away like a lift. I saw the death-engulfing water. I toppled overside and snatched with the axe-head at the rail. It bit. In a flash Peace hauled me clear, gasping, on to the deck. I didn't hear the second report but only saw the splinter of the bullet a foot from my head. I looked upwards and saw the ugly
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