Hunter Killer

by Geoffrey Jenkins

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  pressure must have been intense, for this disavowal was reinforced by an offer of the British missile-tracking cruisers Loch Vennachar and Loch Rannoch. But, it was added—and Peace saw in this the DNI's hand as a means of keeping the mission alive—these ships were at present storm-bound in the Seychelles. Speculation ran riot about the massive operation which the Seventh Fleet had mounted ; Thornton's silence

  was attributed to security, not to the cyclone.

  I felt uneasy in mKG's presence when we returned to the

  bridge and I was glad when Peace called me to the chartroom. What do you make of it, John?'

  I studied our line of dead-reckoning pencillings on the chart which we had made during the night. We could be

  thirty miles any way.'

  If you are remotely right, we should sight Love-Apple

  Crossing about four or five hours from now.'

  Sight!' I laughed ironically. ' Love-Apple Crossing is maybe half a mile long and a quarter broad. It's ten feet

  above sea level, with the exception of the northern end near Vingt-Cinq Coups. On a calm day you wouldn't sight it at

  ten miles ; today, not at ten cables.

  True,' he reflected. Nothing but a sandbank with some

  piddling little palms. But if we miss Love-Apple Crossing

  today, we could beat about for days looking for it. We have six days left to blast-off.'

  Providing this old crate holds together.'

  And she's leaking like a sieve,' he said. ' Mac's worried.

  And if Mac's worried, the situation is critical.'

  He turned back to the chart. So you think this is a lot

  of bull, John?'

  Frankly, yes.'

  ' You really haven't a clue where we are?'

  ' I said so.'

  What is the alternative?'

  André. He has some peculiar built-in sea-sense which tells

  him things which even Tyler's radio sextants and inertial

  navigation wonders don't.

  The triumph of spirit over science,' Peace said quietly.

  Could be. Ask him, anyway.'

  We stumbled on to the bridge as Semittante staggered over another wave. I fetched Adele from the radio shack. The

  news bulletins were ceaseless on the Vice-Presidential crisis. It seemed unreal that the man at the centre of the storm should be standing, unaware of the quick-fire of news, within 182

  yards of it. Peace, I noted, had been careful always to be with me when I spoke to MKG.

  When Adele, who was constrained with Peace, passed on

  our message to André the old fisherman, grey with fatigue

  from his long trick shared with MKG at the wheel, gestured for me to take the spokes. He went to the starboard bridge

  window.

  He says, Love-Apple Crossing is out there. He thought

  you were bound for Agalega previously.'

  ' Could he find it?'

  For the first time I saw André rattled. ' Of course, he knows exactly where the ship is. This is yellow tunny sea. The Japs fish them off the Saya de Malha, but this is their main route.'

  Cut the fishing stuff,' retorted Peace. The strain of the

  night had told more on him than he showed outwardly. Tell

  him, we're lost. Will he take Semittanth to Love-Apple Crossing? If so, he's in command: Adele translated. Surprise and delight passed across the

  old man's face and he went forward and kissed Adele's hand

  with a gesture which I think must have been a survival of

  eighteenth-century French manners in Mauritius. He bowed

  to Peace and put his hand on MKG's shoulder. He spoke long

  and eloquently to Adele. She smiled and it lighted up her

  strange, lovely face.

  At Agalega, he says, the children from La Fourche play on

  the beach with the rose and blue and carmine shells—shells which are found nowhere else in all Limuria. Chepe's wife is from the Amirante Isles and everyone knows that Amirante

  women are . . . are . . . how do you say, they see things...' '

  Fey,' I supplied.

  She smiled her thanks. Chepe's wife is fey. She reads

  fortunes in the shells. She told André that one day he would be the captain of a great ship, greater than any he had

  known. Now he thanks you because you have made it come

  true.'

  Great ship!' sniffed Peace, but he smiled affectionately at the old fisherman.

  ' There is more,' went on Adele. ' He would never forgive

  me if I cut it short. This is a woman's fortune, he says, which may or may not be true. But—' she hesitated= he feels that

  the real captain of our spirits here is—' She nodded at MKG, The strain of the long night showed on mKG's face, too.

  There was a rim of salt and dried sweat on his hair-line and his eyes were bloodshot.

  MKG said, ' Tell him, Adele, tell him my mission.'

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  Peace said, Wait

  MKG said, shaking his head, ' I want him to know.'

  Adele explained, stumbling over the words. You see,

  there is no word for rocket or missile in Creole. I must try and explain it simply, in other terms.'

  André still had his hand on MKG'S sleeve.

  ' Does he know we are being hunted?' asked MKG.

  Adele replied, Yes, we are running like a school of

  frightened tunny with devil-fish after them.'

  The old man bowed ceremoniously again to Peace and me

  and took the wheel. He swung Semittantes head about five degrees to starboard.

  How soon does he think he will be at Love-Apple Crossing?' asked Peace.

  ' Early afternoon.'

  We're back in the ranks, John,' Peace said with a faint

  glimmer of humour. Let's see what's on the air, Adele.'

  ' Let me know if there's anything—' began MKG, but

  Boz Blair broke in with some technicalities about Little Bear and I was glad to escape from the bridge.

  In the radio shack, Adele searched the air for signals from the Seventh Fleet. Again nothing but menacing stillness.

  Peace listened expressionless to the newscasts about the crisis. Adele tried the Navy wavelength again. She stiffened at the call-sign.

  It's Tyler!'

  Peace and I read over her shoulder as she decoded.

  Willowtrack to CIC x intercepted yacht Bellatrix position long. 60° E., lat. 10° 30' S.

  The radio spluttered its reply and Adele went through the

  agonizing slow business of decoding.

  CIC Blue Force to Willowtrack x is Vice-President in yacht? x

  Willowtrack to CIC x no radio contact with Bellatrix x seas make boat contact impossible x yacht seems full of men x

  CIC to Willowtrack x stick by that yacht fellah x

  Willowtrack to CIC x you bet x closer than his shirt x no answer to my light signals x

  CIC to Willowtrack x concentrate all forces Bellatrix area x where is Semittanté x

  Willowtrack to CIC x Bellatrix flag signal flies word Semittanté x

  CIC to Willowtrack x what hell's he playing at x

  Willowtrack to CIC x closed yacht in heavy

  seas x trying 184

  to get a man across x at least 20 men aboard Bellatrix x no sign Vice-President x

  I could picture the scene: Tyler, frantic for information, jockeying the big sub, awash to her casings to give her maximum stability in the swells, as close as he dared to the strangely silent yacht. Despite everything, the thrill of the chase raced through my veins. I was half-glad, half-ashamed, that I had given my undertaking to Peace about MKG. Here it was:

  Willowtrack to CIC x fired line from Willowtrack bridge x chief quartermaster volunteered to go across x difficult evolution but achieved it x with loudhailer says no sign of Vice-President x men all foreigners x unable to under- stand wh
at they say except they repeat Semittanté point- ing to themselves x

  CIC to Willowtrack x what language x

  Willowtrack to CIC x leader repeats du Plessis x

  CIC to Willowtrack x du Plessis captain Semitumté x try French x I want that man x detach Shenandoah ex Red Force and bring him to me x

  Peace whistled, but he became less tense. ' One less sub to hunt us.'

  It's going to take the best part of today for Shenandoah to reach Blue Force and get du Plessis aboard Thornton's flagship,' I observed. He glanced keenly at me, still talking about the hunt in positive terms.

  Adele said, Are you intending to show those messages to

  MKG?'

  Peace gathered them up. ' Of course. These are operational. There's nothing in them about—the other side of the picture.'

  All operational messages?' she insisted.

  The smile didn't reach his eyes. Subject to my approval.' I feel pretty cheap standing next to the man with the

  knowledge I have—' I began.

  Peace's tone hardened immediately. There's no point in discussing it further.'

  Doesn't he want to signal the President again?' asked

  Adele. After all, it's days still until the launch.'

  ' He mentioned it, but he realizes as well as we do what the consequences would be of a signal while they're hunting us.'

  Hunt! Peace and I had risked death together in the past,

  both as the hunter and the hunted ; despite myself, the thought surged up in my mind, what if Peace after all was

  right and the outcome of a successful mission would be worth 185

  the immediate risks involved to the Vice-President? Peace

  had been right before when the whole world believed him

  w r o n g ' I'll take these to the bridge,' he said, picking up the signals. Adele listened gravely to me after he had gone when I told

  her of our past missions, of my mixture of feelings about

  Little Bear and MKG. Before she could reply, a stream of signals started to go out to Red Force allocating them new

  dispositions. Shenandoah grumbled at being taken from the hunt to taxi Captain du Plessis. Thornton and Blue Force

  abandoned their previous search area and turned on a heading towards Bellatrix. Tyler ordered all his ships into the same area.

  Peace had bought another day with his ruse.

  By early afternoon the squalls started to increase in violence and frequency from the north-east. Semittanté took a fearful beating. The gusts, catching the old ship under the bow, laid her under with a peculiar, sickening corkscrew

  motion. It was impossible to stand on the bridge without

  holding on ; the hazard of the lifelines to the radio shack was more than real. Boz and his men risked their lives to

  check Little Bear's lashings. Semittantes deck was continuously awash in the violent cross-sea, which jounced and jerked, pummelled and hammered her. Three of the lifeboats hung smashed, but the cutter with its precious load was secure. I had demanded some jerrycans of petrol for its auxiliary engine from Mac—the tank, I found, was empty.

  Tyler and Thornton were on the air without a break. Both

  HUK forces were taking a tremendous hammering, they reported. André and MKG were fighting the wheel when I felt the tempo of Semittanté's motion change—from the long, swooping dives with water pouring off the rusty bows to a quick, shuddering action. The bottom seemed to be dropping out of

  the barometer, which stood at 28.80 of mercury. We had

  run into a fearful cross-sea. On Peace's orders I brought

  Adele to the bridge—we were afraid that the radio shack

  might be swept overboard.

  Andre shouted above the din, `Love-Apple Crossing!'

  Beyond the bridge visibility was down to about fify yards.

  The sea was shrouded in spray ; the summits of the waves

  were carried aloft bodily in a white shower of salt as high as a carrier's deck. It was a formidable, awe-inspiring sight. Adele translated. ' We are coming in from the east, straight towards the lagoon.'

  ' Where is it?' demanded Peace.

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  André pointed, but we could see nothing. Then, slightly to

  port, I caught a glimpse of a coconut tree bent like a whip on a low point of land.

  There!' I yelled. 'That's it—look l'

  Adele said, Vingt-Cinq Coups.

  The flogging,' said MKG quietly, ' is coming to old Semit- tanté.'

  Trevor-Davis gave a thumbs-down sign to Pete the Texan.

  Peace swallowed hard. Can André take her through the

  reef into the lagoon—in this?'

  André's reply was grave. It is a very big ship and the pass is narrow.

  Peace slowed the engines. ' It doesn't matter if she strikes, so long as we get her inside.'

  Without warning, the wind cut.

  Semittanté lay in a vacuum of silence.

  Adele grabbed me. John darling, what—?'

  Cyclone centre,' replied Peace. We're dead in the heart of

  it. We're in the middle of the whirlpool: everything spins around creating a small patch in the very centre which is

  absolutely without movement. I've never seen it myself, though, until now.'

  Our voices were loud, unnatural.

  We waited—hours, it seemed, though it could not have

  been more than five minutes.

  Then Adele said, André thinks he can take her in now.'

  The narrow spit of land was a dirty grey compared to the

  fanged whiteness of the water. The reef was a horseshoe of

  wild surf. At Vingt-Cinq Coups was a small roofless hut and a strange square trellis of iron.

  Peace said, That axe, John ; we may have to cut the cutter clear if we strike. Boz, slack off that wire cable round Little Bear. I'll be here at the wheel with André. As soon as we get inside the lagoon, get up for'ard with Pete Allingham and knock the shackle out of the anchor cable. I want everyone else in the cutter, ready. Then get below and open the sea-cocks with Mac. Adele, I want you with me.'

  She hesitated and looked deep into my eyes. Hers told me

  all I wanted to know.

  I went for'ard with the big Texan. The unnatural quiet

  persisted. Twice I was thrown to the deck as the cross-sea

  dealt the old tramp a quick left-right to the jaw and water swept across the deck.

  The bows swung high. I looked down into the entrance

  race.

  I saw the coral-head too late.

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  Andre's course was slightly off centre in the reef passage. I yelled frantically, gesturing. The bow paused—plunged

  down—on to the dagger of coral.

  The crash and scream of metal threw me hard against the

  deck. Up she came to impale herself again, but the bow

  swung away and the second strike was only glancing. She

  limped clear, tired to death, her head starting to droop. Then the sea quietened—we were through!

  Pete and I clouted the inch-thick anchor shackle. Once twice. It gave and the anchor fell in a shower of sparks.

  I ran for the engine-room while Pete made for the cutter. '

  Mac!'

  It was as quiet as a cathedral, except for the ominous sound of water flooding in.

  ' Mac!'

  ' Here!'

  I dropped into the shaft, up to my knees in sea-water. Mac fought to open the rusty sea-cock. We threw our combined

  weight on the heavy wrench and it gave, water spurting over us. We raced on deck, making for the boat. André was speaking rapidly, pointing seawards. Semittanté was settling at an awkward angle, making the launching of the cutter difficult. She could not be cut clear now—she would simply smash herself against the steel side.

  I jumped into the boat. An icy spear of fear went through me. Adele was missing!

  I clutched the fall and s
wung myself back on deck.

  ' For Christ's sake!' yelled Peace. ' She's going down like a stone—'

  Semittanté gave a lurch.

  ' Adele!' I screamed above the din. I sprinted up the sloping planks, hauled myself bodily up a steel ladder, and propelled myself to the radio shack by hauling myself along the ropes of the lifeline I had rigged. I kicked once, twice, at the shack's door, which had jammed from the angle of the

  sinking ship.

  ' Adele!'

  She sat at the radio, headphones on, and stared unseeingly. For a moment, I thought she was dead.

  ' The ship's sinking—any moment—come, for God's sake!'

  She seemed to come back from a great distance. Silently

  she pushed across the transcript of a newscast. It was headed Voice of America.

  It read : Flash. The White House announces that the Pre- sident has suffered a severe stroke. His condition gives rise to the gravest anxiety.

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  1 3 G R I D E - 1 3

  A violent lurch, accompanied by an ominous rumble from

  below, jerked me out of my stunned reaction.

  I crammed the transcript into my pocket, tore the headphones off Adele's head, picked her up and staggered out. The wild motion of the dying ship ripped the flesh from my

  hand as I hung on to the lifeline rope. Then, as she steadied, I made a half-sprint down the ladder and deck to the boat.

  Peace had already eased it down about ten feet, but shouted to the others to stop when he saw me.

  Semittanté lurched again.

  Keeping Adele over my shoulder, I grabbed a loose fall

  with one hand and wound my knees and ankles round it.

  Faces in the boat, so small below, were turned towards me.

  Underneath lay a maelstrom of death.

  The rope burned hot on my torn palm. Eager hands

  reached up and pulled us into the cutter.

  Semittanté gave another wild lurch.

  ' Forward bulkhead gone!' shouted Peace. ' Pay off those

  falls—handsomely! We don't want to go down with her!'

  André gestured seawards. I saw the cause of his alarm.

  Half a mile away loomed a threatening bank of grey. There

  was a steady roaring like an express train. Sweating and