Survival

by David Fletcher

  Nevertheless, as soon as his zodiac had pulled away from the Sea Sprite, with Joshua at the helm and Patrick seated opposite, he felt surprisingly calm. His zodiac was one of only two that had the same crew as before, and he suspected that in some way this was helping his composure, possibly by giving him a sense of familiarity with his role. Even if that was not really justified at all. But never mind. He’d grab whatever he could if it meant he could keep his cool.

  He also tried to concentrate on his zodiac’s progress and that of those zodiacs in front. Indeed, as soon as he’d managed to wave goodbye to Debbie (stationed, as before, at the back of the Erikson Deck), he had turned his attention to the flotilla of small craft and its passage through the drifting ice. And that is what was everywhere: small and not-so-small lumps of ice that had prevented the Sea Sprite from entering the inner confines of Cierva Cove and instead had required the zodiacs to make what would be a fifteen-minute trip to the Argentinian research station – with their drivers exercising a great deal of care…

  They had to make a judicious choice of a pathway through the floating ice. As Alex soon realised, although they float, lumps of ice have the same characteristics as lumps of rock, and even the sturdy, reinforced rubber of the zodiacs was not immune to their literal impact. Joshua, like all the other helmsmen, was having to pick a route through them that avoided all the larger lumps and respected the solidness of even the smaller ones. When having to negotiate these, he slowed his vessel down to a walking pace and edged his way through their jumble as carefully as he could. This made what Alex thought was a very unpleasant scraping sound, and not one he would ever have associated with the smoothness of ice. But there again, he had much to learn. He was but a novice in this environment. Just as he was an absolute beginner in the practice of larceny; a crime that was just about to be undertaken. Because the Argentinian research station had now come into view, and the lead zodiacs were already slowing, with their drivers preparing to take more care than ever.

  It was a collection of red-painted huts, all sited on a rocky hillside well above the level of the sea, and with, of course, a prominent Argentinian flag painted on the side of one of these huts. Alex wondered whether all Argentinian research stations had this red-hut/prominent-national-flag appearance, and then he wondered whether Patrick knew the origin of this blue-and-white national symbol. He, Alex, did. Because Roy had told him what it was just a few days before. And whilst not a conclusive explanation of its genesis, it was thought that it had been conceived by Manuel Belgrano, the leader of the Argentinian Revolution against Spain, and it was supposed to represent blue sky parting to reveal a white cloud – as is said to have happened at some liberation celebration in Buenos Aires. Roy had then gone on to question how a blue sky parts to reveal a cloud (and not the other way around), and why the representation of the sun in the middle of the flag is against a white (cloud) background and not against a blue (clear sky) background. And he was right to question this, because it didn’t make sense, any more than wondering about the creation process of a national flag – and how widely this was known – when one was just about to be involved in a spot of possibly dangerous thievery. Alex quickly decided that his mind had latched onto this nonsense because he was really quite scared. But now it was time to re-engage with the job in hand, especially as Stuart had given a pre-arranged hand signal to indicate that while his and Gill’s zodiacs made for their objective, it was time for zodiacs three, four and five to hold back. Unlike in Deception Island, this action was to be conducted out of sight of the Sea Sprite, and it was essential that if anything went wrong (again) there was somebody to bear witness to this and to take the news back to the Sea Sprite’s captain. Even if and when Stuart gave the all-clear, only zodiac three (Alex’s zodiac) was to join his and Gill’s. The other two would ‘stand guard’ and be prepared to make a fast escape.

  What was also out of sight – at the moment – was the station’s landing stage. This sea-level facility was hidden behind a sizeable iceberg close to the station itself; an iceberg embellished with an icy appendage that looked like a giant hand, with one finger pointing into the air. Alex was captivated by its appearance. Right up until his captivation was replaced by a sudden bolt of astonishment. After all, whatever he had prepared himself for, he had not prepared himself for the sound of gunfire…

  – o –

  As Stuart’s zodiac rounded the iceberg, he caught sight of the yacht. It was maybe only thirty yards away. Then his attention was drawn to the three men standing on the deck of the yacht, and the fact that two of them were armed. One had a rifle and one had a pistol, and both weapons were now being trained on him and his crew. Some sort of instinct kicked in immediately, and he began to swing his craft to the left, causing one of his team to fall into the centre of the dinghy. This fall may have saved his life, because both weapons had now been discharged. And not as warning shots. One shot had whistled past Stuart’s ear, and another had hit a lump of ice only feet from his craft. And then the firing continued. Even as Stuart became aware of Gill’s zodiac passing his own, with Gabriel, one of her crew members, at the helm. And Gabriel was steering the zodiac – directly towards the yacht – because Gill was crouched just to his side, taking aim with her assault rifle. It flashed through Stuart’s mind that Gill must have been super fast in her reactions, as well as having been super sensible in bringing her trusty SA80 A3 weapon all the way from Mount Pleasant. And would she now be super accurate?

  The answer was yes. Gill fired twice, and the guy with the rifle fell to the deck of the yacht while, at the same time, the guy with the pistol stumbled backwards and fell into the water. The third guy then made a move to pick up the first guy’s dropped rifle, but as a third shot rang out, he managed only to touch it before he too collapsed onto the deck. All three ‘defenders’ were now out of action. Two were dead or dying and one was thrashing around in ice-cold water.

  – o –

  As soon as those first shots had been fired, Joshua had opened the throttle on his zodiac’s outboard, and in no time at all, he was racing towards the two leading zodiacs, so that he, Alex and Patrick would be able to do… whatever it was that they needed to do. However, everything had happened so quickly that when they reached the scene of the shoot-out, it was very much all over. Everybody aboard Stuart and Gill’s zodiacs looked to be alive and unharmed, but on a rather handsome black yacht, tied to the research station’s landing stage, were what looked to be two very still bodies, and in the water, towards the yacht’s stern, was a man who was still alive but clearly in some distress. It was as Alex’s attention was focused on this unfortunate chap that what would prove to be the final act of this hostile engagement took place. At first it was merely an indistinct movement in the water, just a few yards from where the reluctant bather was struggling to stay afloat. Then something broke the surface of the water. It was the head of a serpent. But then Alex realised what it really was; a leopard seal, and it was now gliding towards the subject of its interest. It disappeared again, only to reappear a fraction of a second later, its mouth wide open and ready to seize its victim by the neck. This it did with consummate ease, and then just as easily it dragged the poor guy under the water. And it never reappeared again. Nor did its unfortunate companion.

  It was horrible. Alex felt sick. Patrick, he couldn’t fail to notice, actually retched. And even Joshua slumped forward as though he was about to faint. A few deep breaths later, Alex was able to see that in the other two zodiacs there was a similar mix of shock and dismay, and Gill in particular looked really distraught. This was hardly a surprise. She was not a born killer. But she had just ended the lives of three people, directly or indirectly, and they were probably not even bad people. They were just protecting themselves from what they presumably saw as a threat to their own survival. The Sea Sprite’s little expeditionary force hadn’t scored a victory. All it had done was subtract three more people from the tiny remnants of humanity, a
nd that was very much more a loss than it was a triumph.

  Nevertheless, there had been no choice. Just as there was no choice as to what to do now. The first job was to check whether there was anybody in the yacht, and when this had been done – and nobody found – there was then the research station to be checked to ensure that it wasn’t hosting any hiding Argentinians. This finally completed, it was then a matter of organising the removal of the station’s stores – of which there were plenty – whilst at the same time dealing with two dead bodies and extracting from the yacht anything that might be of use back on the Sea Sprite. Stuart took a lead in organising all this work, and he also ensured that Captain José knew what was going on. One of the reserve zodiacs had been dispatched from the Sea Sprite as soon as those on board had heard the gun fire. So it wasn’t long before this had returned and the captain had been briefed on the firefight, and on who had been killed and who had survived. But he still needed to be kept informed of the more prosaic aspects of the operation; namely, the size of the cache of provisions discovered and an estimate of the time it would take to bring this cache back to his vessel. This was, after all, the primary purpose of the zodiacs’ visit to the research station. And even after that painful overture, it still had to be performed. Again, there was simply no choice…

  It took until mid-afternoon to finish all the work in hand, including the ‘liberation’ of the black yacht. Unlike the Bluebird, this vessel was in perfect order, and it took little time to decide that it would now be joining the Sea Sprite on its passage south. It would be towed behind the ship, to be used as and when the need arose. Its name was Gūse, which Roy decided was Moldovan for ‘goose’. He wasn’t certain about that, but he was quite sure that the flag flying at the back of the yacht was Moldovan, so it was odds on he was right. The only mystery was what three Moldovans were doing on a small boat so far from home, and why they had been quite so uncompromising – and so ill-judged – in their behaviour.

  José decided to give the two who hadn’t been carried off by the leopard seal a prompt burial at sea, and this burial was performed with due solemnity in the late afternoon. Unsurprisingly, the only Moldovan flag available was the small one on the Gūse, which meant that the two bodies, wrapped in white bed linen, had to make do with Union flags as a mark of respect as they were slipped into the sea. Not ideal by any means. But, as Alex thought, they were both well past taking offence…

  It was one of many thoughts he had in the latter part of this day, and one of the few he could deal with. To add to the sight of nine good men cut down by those invisible spores, he had now seen – close up – two bodies with bullet holes in them, and he had witnessed one person actually becoming a body, thanks to the attentions of a large carnivorous seal. Together with his proximity to a firefight and his participation in a large-scale robbery, it was just too much to process, especially for someone who had spent a lifetime cocooned in the ordinary and the normal, and for whom death and violence were just things that happened on a screen. And then very rarely for real.

  With Debbie’s help, he did manage dinner – with the usual companions – but he was more than a little detached throughout the whole of the meal, and more than a little reluctant to revisit the events of the day. Roy seemed more willing to do so, but even he was keener to look to the future and to consider how today’s events would influence Captain José’s plans. Would he still want to conduct a further raid on another research station? Would he risk another encounter with armed men? Or would he announce in his promised briefing the following morning that he had devised a new plan; one that sought to avoid contact of any sort with anybody else?

  After the meal, Alex couldn’t bring to mind much of the dinner conversation, and especially Roy’s thinking aloud what tomorrow might have in store. But one aspect of his musings had stuck: the one that followed on from the possibility of José steering clear of any other encounters. And this was Roy’s wondering what had happened to José’s earlier declared strategy of ‘no communications’. Their captain had also indicated that there would be only limited and cautious contact with other vessels, but that seemed to be an irrelevance now. The Sea Sprite appeared to have the Antarctic virtually to itself. However, that still left the question of communications with, say, British research stations on the continent, or maybe somewhere further afield. Was it still possible to communicate with the Falklands, or even with Ushuaia? Or were even the British outposts on the cold continent impossible to contact?

  Of course, nobody at the table had been able to provide answers to any of these questions, but Alex remembered that Roy had committed himself to attempting to get some answers in the morning. That, Alex believed, might prove to be very interesting, and it might even prove to be a very effective distraction from thoughts of shooting and drowning that he feared would still be with him when he woke. They were certainly still with him now. As were thoughts of two bodies slipping underwater from beneath the cover of two Union flags. It really had been an awful day…

  twenty-nine

  Stuart had been dealing with his own suite of thoughts. Over the past couple of days, neither the comforts of the Sea Sprite nor even his evolving relationship with Gill had been able to keep at bay entirely the pain of rejection. And it was the same for Gill herself. Both of them knew that, despite their having brought potentially life-saving news to all those aboard the Sea Sprite, they were still regarded – by the ex-military on board, and by some of their associates – as deserters, as a couple of guys who had shamelessly abandoned their mates. That was why they had been passed over in the selection process for the raid in Deception Island. They were not wanted as comrades by those who had been largely responsible for organising and conducting that raid.

  Then things had changed. Dramatically. Mike and Terry had been killed along with seven of their mates, and it was now only those undesirable deserters who could take their place for the next planned raid. Captain José had been very good about it. He’d freely admitted that he had felt uncomfortable about their earlier exclusion, but that he had been more concerned about the success of the job in hand. And that had clearly demanded the total commitment of all those involved; something that would have been put at risk if Stuart and Gill had been ‘imposed’ on the others. This, he’d admitted, had possibly been wrong. But of course, that was all irrelevant now. There was another raid to conduct, and it was essential that it was led by the one remaining soldier on board the Sea Sprite, together with a young, intelligent person who would inevitably have more confidence – and ability – than someone who had worked on a cruise ship for many years, or who had not worked at all for many years.

  So, it was welcome rehabilitation time, together with the prospect of actually doing something useful and something quite demanding. Stuart and Gill hadn’t hesitated for a moment, and had been only too happy to accept José’s offer of a leadership role. Stuart had felt really quite elated. He was still in buoyant mood when he’d set out in that zodiac, and as far as he could remember he had then felt unalloyed ecstasy when he’d realised that all that shooting had left him and his colleagues completely unscathed. But only for a moment. The ecstasy soon dissolved into relief – that Gill was OK. And then there’d been a bizarre mix of revulsion at the needless death of three people and admiration that it was his ‘girlfriend’ who had been responsible for their demise. She had done exactly what needed to be done in the most polished and professional manner possible, and had even been full of remorse after the event. She had shown that she was still Gill, still a woman with the emotions of a woman, and not some crazed Rambo killer. That admiration might soon, he thought, turn into something else.

  This all meant that Stuart was now experiencing a degree of mental turmoil like he’d never known before. Because he had somehow to reconcile his new leadership role with what he now knew was his serious distaste for violent confrontation. And he also had to balance his new-found respect for his partner’s fighting skil
ls with his burgeoning affection for her, both of which feelings fed into another aspect of his turmoil. Which was how best to protect Gill and himself from what might still lie ahead. Should they continue their agreeable alliance with those aboard the Sea Sprite? Or should he question the likelihood of this alliance proving successful and maybe consider the possibility that success – in terms of his and Gill’s ultimate survival – might instead be realised by their striking out on their own? After all, there was now another yacht that could be made use of. And that opened up all sorts of possibilities.

  As he lay in bed, with Gill already asleep beside him, these were the thoughts that were rolling around in his head. And keeping him awake. It wasn’t until he accepted that he could resolve nothing now that he was able, finally, to get to sleep himself. Matters might become clearer in the morning, he’d decided, and particularly after the next promised briefing by Captain José. It was by no means guaranteed, but this update on the Sea Sprite’s situation – and what was planned next – might just prove useful to somebody who was trying to decide whether to stay with the Sea Sprite or whether to ‘jump ship’. It might leave him with only a manageable amount of turmoil to deal with…

  thirty

  Alex and Debbie knew very little about the Moldovan flag when they sat down for breakfast. However, thanks to Roy, with whom they shared this meal, at its conclusion they knew not only that it was a vertical tricolour of blue, yellow and red – with the coat of arms of Moldova in the centre bar – but also that this coat of arms consisted of an eagle holding a shield adorned with an aurochs’ head. In fact, when they’d started their breakfast, they hadn’t even known what an aurochs was. But again, thanks to Roy’s encyclopaedic brain, they were soon equipped with the knowledge that an aurochs was an extinct species of large wild cattle that used to inhabit numerous parts of Asia, Europe and North Africa until it dwindled to a remnant population in Poland. This, mankind managed to eliminate back in the seventeenth century, but not before it had much earlier used these animals to create the ancestors of modern domestic cattle. Quite why the Moldovans had chosen this beast to decorate their coat of arms – and their flag – Roy wasn’t entirely sure. But he did propose that it might be because there was very little chance of any other country wanting to use this poor defunct animal as part of its own national symbol. It was akin, he suggested, to choosing an image of a gerbil as your national icon. Or maybe an image of Liberace.