Pirelli stared at him without speaking, his stubbled, dirty face devoid of welcome. Then he grinned and lowered the rifle almost reluctantly to the deck. ‘You got here then.’
Bella put the small parcel on a ledge and said, ‘It’s getting difficult.’
Pirelli tore open the bundle and rammed a wedge of beef loaf between his strong teeth. ‘So what!’ He ate like a starving animal, his eyes red-rimmed and savage.
Bella regarded him emptily. He’s mad, he thought. Completely up the creek! Aloud he said, ‘They’re still looking for you.’
‘Let ’em! I’ll be okay if you do your whack. If you don’t …’ He nodded towards the rifle. ‘I’ll fix you good!’
‘There’s a new officer come aboard today.’ Bella racked his thoughts for something to say. ‘A green ensign, but he’s the exec’s kid brother!’
Pirelli chewed thoughtfully. ‘So he wouldn’t recognise me, that’s something!’ Then he added, ‘What’s the captain doin’?’
Bella shrugged. ‘He went ashore this morning. Nothing new there.’
‘The lousy bastard!’ Pirelli stared hard at the port. ‘I’d like to kill that one!’ He continued muttering as he searched through the parcel. ‘Wanted to court-martial me, did he? Get me shut away!’ He gave a wild laugh which seemed to re-echo through .the listing ship as if all the old crew members were joining in the joke. ‘Just for killin’ a goddamn Chink! A pity the bastard didn’t do somethin’ about my mate when they killed him!’ He nodded vigorously. ‘Yes, Mister bloody Gunnar, I’ll fix your hash for you!’
Bella stirred uneasily. ‘I must get back now. The old man’ll be asking for me.’
‘Sure, sure. You carry on, Mike.’ Pirelli was quite calm and reasonable once more. ‘You’re a good kid. I shan’t forget.’
Bella smiled weakly. ‘I hope you know what you’re doing,’
‘I’m not going to some stinkin’ jail, I can tell you that!’
Bella walked through the door, his eyes darting down the sun-dappled passageway to check that all was clear. Behind him he heard Pirelli ease the safety catch, and said hastily. ‘I’ll be here tomorrow then?’
Pirelli laughed quietly. ‘Yeh. And for Christ’s sake get me a bottle!’
‘I’ll do what I can.’
Bella’s sliding footsteps rang around the ship as he groped his way back to the maindeck. A rotting ladder enabled him to lower himself down to the cool sand, where he was hidden by the bulging hull from the rest of the anchorage and the haze-covered town beyond. He began to walk along the narrow sandspit as the tide crept slowly forward towards his shoes.
He was caught in a double blackmail if either party required to use such pressure, yet the thought of Peach, and the fact that she might already have started on her journey towards him, made him feel almost lighthearted.
* * *
Maddox lowered his arm from shading his eyes as the old freighter’s siren screamed out for the last time as she began to swing towards the outer channel. The decks were crammed with faces, and some of the released refugees had even climbed into the rigging to stare back at Payenhau. Maddox sighed and climbed from the bobbing gig to the warship’s deck, where Kroner waited to receive him.
‘Don’t tell me!’ Maddox glared at Kroner’s smooth face. ‘World War Three has started, and they want me to parachute on to Peking!’
Kroner smiled gently. ‘No, nothing but good news. We have a new ensign as replacement, which means less duty for the rest of us.’
‘And it means we’re taking root here!’ Maddox was unimpressed. ‘Anything else?’
‘I don’t think so.’ Kroner stared at the freighter’s slow progress. ‘The skipper’s ashore, and I understand that the formidable Jago has received his promotion from a grateful nation!’
‘Jesus! That’s all we need!’
A dull crack echoed across the anchorage and sent the dozing gulls soaring from the cliffs. ‘What was that? Another mine?’ Maddox snatched the glasses from the quartermaster and peered shorewards. A few soldiers were looking towards the hills, but otherwise nothing moved.
Kroner said, ‘Perhaps it was a firework.’
Maddox grunted unconvinced. ‘Well, it’s not our worry. Yet!’
‘Shall I send the new officer to see you? He seems anxious.’
‘I’ll bet.’ Maddox thought gloomily of the shower he had been anticipating. ‘Yes, I’ll give him a couple of minutes below. Go and get him.’
Kroner smiled smoothly. ‘A pleasure.’
Maddox threw himself down into his chair. He felt rattled, and at the same time mentally stifled, as if he wanted to dash ashore to let off steam. To drink, or just walk in the sun until he dropped with exhaustion.
Aboard the freighter all morning he had scrambled through musty-smelling holds, feeling foolish and unwanted, watched with open amusement by the ship’s Chinese crew.
It was like playing at soldiers, yet without the satisfaction found by Jago under similar circumstances. And he was a colonel now. Maddox wondered how that might affect the balance of power in Payenhau.
He answered the small knock at his door without looking up. ‘Come in.’
Then for a full minute the two brothers looked at each other, the young ensign with cheerful pleasure, Maddox with astonished wonder.
Maddox exploded: ‘Is this some sort of joke? What in hell’s name are you doing here?’
His brother removed his new cap and laid it thoughtfully on the table. His dark hair was shorter than his brother’s but almost as unruly. ‘I thought it would please you.’ His mouth spread in an innocent smile. ‘Mister Kroner made me very welcome when I told him you were my big brother!’
Maddox leaned back and stared at him. ‘I’ll bet he did, the deceitful bastard!’ Then he ran his eyes slowly over the ensign’s slim figure. ‘Hell, Pip, you’ve grown a bit since I saw you last!’
His brother perched himself on the table and looked around the small room. ‘Not much for an exec, I’d have thought?’
They both laughed, the ice was broken, although Maddox felt uneasy and worried by Pip’s unexpected appearance.
‘How are things in New York?’ He felt like a foreigner, and saw Pip’s generous mouth twitch before it became serious.
‘It’s still big and busy, Bob.’
‘And Mother?’
‘Not big, but even busier.’ He opened his wallet. ‘I’ve got some pictures I thought you’d like.’ He watched as Maddox laid them face down on the table. ‘Well, don’t you want them?’
Maddox smiled uncomfortably. ‘Later. I’m a bit pushed.’ After all this time he could no more open up the memory of home in front of an audience than fly. Later, when the ship was quiet for the night, he would study each one.
Pip said casually, ‘I’m getting married, by the way.’
Maddox staggered to his feet. ‘You’re nuts! At your age? You’re crazy!’
‘Thanks for your good wishes, Bob!’
Maddox slumped down again and stared silently at his brother. It was like looking at an old photo of himself when he had left the academy. Slim, self-assured, eager. And yet there was a difference. Pip seemed more determined in some strange way. He said carefully, ‘What does Mother say?’
‘Oh, she agrees, naturally.’
‘You know it’s a problem to get hitched when you’re only a junior officer! The women don’t like it, the travelling, the separation, and everything!’
‘No I don’t. And neither, I suspect, does my big, wise brother!’ He smiled gently. ‘You’ll like her. How is Mary, by the way?’
Maddox flushed. ‘That’s all over.’
‘I’m surprised. I thought you’d hit the right one there. Mother read more into your sparse letters than usual, I guess.’
Maddox sighed. ‘Have you settled in yet?’ The talk of Pip’s proposed marriage had shaken him badly. He did not feel jealous as he might have supposed, merely a sense of loss, like a man who has suddenly noticed that age has
overtaken him with nothing to show for its passing.
‘Yes, I’m all fixed up.’ Pip waggled his legs. ‘It’s a crummy ship by the look of it, but from what I can gather they can’t spare much else. I got a lift in a carrier from Taiwan, and they seem to think things are hotting up in the Formosa Strait. There are a lot of units heading up there just in case. But me? I’m safe and snug down here with my old guardian.’
Maddox grinned uncomfortably. ‘Not so much of it! Remember, an exec can make life hell for a greenhorn ensign!’
Pip looked suitably impressed. ‘I’ll complain to the captain!’
Maddox waved him down. ‘Watch your voice. The ship is undergoing a touch of the Blighs at the moment!’
‘Tch, tch! I can see I shall have to put things right. What’s he like by the way?’
‘The captain? He’s young, he’s keen, and he’s a bit worried at the moment.’
‘That’s a marvellous description, Bob. It sounds as if you’ve never even met him!’
‘That’s how I feel at the moment! Seriously, it is a bit tricky just now.’
Pip nodded. ‘Kroner told me about the deserter and the officer who was killed. Is there more to it than that?’
‘I’m not sure. The captain thinks so, but he’s a bit prejudiced.’
‘I was doing a short gunnery course when he was in the States.’ The ensign looked distant, as if aware for the first time the meaning of joining a ship some twelve thousand miles from home. ‘I read all about his medal which he got from the President. He must be quite some guy.’
Maddox watched his brother with something like love. ‘I guess he was once. I’m not sure what he is right now.’ He stood up and added awkwardly: ‘I’m not sure that I should say this, Pip, but it’s damn good to see you. It seems like years.’
Pip picked up his cap and dusted it severely. ‘It has been!’
There was a tap at the door, and Bella looked in at the two officers. ‘I’ve got some orders to be signed, Lieutenant. I can’t find the captain.’
Maddox pulled out his pen. ‘It’s just routine. I’ll do it.’ He glanced importantly at his brother. ‘Just one of the burdens of this job!’
Pip smiled at his brother’s broad back. ‘I can see why the captain can stay ashore with you around!’
Bella waited nervously. ‘Anything else, sir?’
Maddox eyed him wearily. ‘Should there be?’
‘Any sailing orders to copy out, or anything like that, sir?’
‘Hell, no. We’re here for ever at this rate!’ They watched the yeoman walk slowly back towards his office.
‘He seems a bit down.’ Pip’s brows were raised questioningly. ‘Is he okay?’
Maddox shrugged. ‘We’ve all got troubles here, my friend.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘But come and meet the other inmates. I’ll be interested in your reactions.’
Maddox wondered what Pip would think of Lea Burgess, but decided almost immediately that it might be unwise to make an early introduction. He himself had only met her once more since the hospital party, and that had been for less than an hour aboard the Osprey. Still, it was a beginning, and she was getting more attractive each time he saw her.
Pip said suddenly, ‘What did happen to Mary?’
Maddox pushed him in front of him into the wardroom. ‘You mind your own affairs, my lad. There’s more to life than just getting married!’
Regan looked up from a magazine and stared at the newcomer. ‘So this is the other half of the Maddox family?’ He sounded angry and hostile.
The ensign went across to him. ‘I’ve been looking at the three-inch on the fo’c’sle, sir. I wonder if you could explain a few points about it to me.’ He shrugged helplessly. ‘I’m afraid I’m a bit green on that gun.’
Regan dropped his magazine and pulled up another chair. ‘Sit here then.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Well, it is a bit of a sticker. But these are the points to watch for …’ He broke into a technical but friendly discourse.
From across the wardroom Malinsky winked at the exec’s amazed face. There were obviously no flies on the new ensign.
* * *
Mark Gunnar floated on his back, his eyes closed against the glare, hardly moving on the slack water. The enclosing warmth of the sea seemed to soothe him, to relax every aching muscle and penetrate the confines of his mind. He felt drowsy, yet able to think more clearly than for some time, and he allowed his thoughts to drift in the same way as his body.
Jago had got his coveted promotion, and the island’s administration had not altered from its course by one degree since the Hibiscus had first dropped anchor. Only Gunnar himself seemed to have been singled out for attention of one kind or another. They all wanted rid of him for mixed reasons, and in this quiet, peaceful sea Gunnar could see their points of view well enough.
What had he brought them but trouble? Even the far-off headquarters staff seemed aware of his early mistakes and stupid pessimism. Yet he still felt sure there was danger, even if it was as beyond his own control as before. What would another captain have done? Gunnar half opened his eyes to watch an anxious cormorant circling above him. Another commander might well have done the bare bones of his assignment and been content. A dull routine task was nothing new. It was the rule rather than the exception.
Viet Nam’s memory had tainted him, had warped his judgement so that he could no longer accept anything as just ordinary and routine. He smiled bitterly. Even Bolod might be a figment of someone’s imagination, a necessary scapegoat for those who had been unable to destroy the terrorists and their works.
He tried to think of the distant future. In a few months I shall be thirty. What then? There might be a series of possibilities. Return to the States, or accept another appointment out here. If any was offered. Like Payenhau, he was being passed by, overlooked gratefully by those who knew his record but kept quiet. Wearily he rolled over and began to swim slowly towards the beach. Whatever else happened, he was here, and things had to be done. Back at the ship they would be waiting for him, ready to obey him with as much resentment as they dared.
He blinked the water from his eyes and stared hard at the beach and his small pile of clothes. A figure moved along the sand, a small, familiar figure in a patched smock, the child with the enormous white bandage which Connell watched over in his hospital. Gunnar struck out more strongly. It was the girl whom Pirelli had shot on the pier. The incident everyone seemed eager to forget for varied reasons.
She stopped and shaded her eyes to watch him, and did a slow sort of dance from one foot to the other, her round face beaming expectantly. Gunnar smiled to himself in spite of his troubled thoughts. This child had become quite a character, if only because of her bandage. Members of the crew gave her candy, or took her for rides in the borrowed jeep. It seemed only right in this mad situation that she should stumble across the captain who had ordered the shooting, swimming in his underpants!
He stumbled and then began to wade hurriedly up the beach. The child smiled broadly and ran to head him off. She wanted to help him, but was confused by the jumbled pile of clothing. Gunnar slipped on the loose sand, and she beat him to the heap, her hand grasping Gunnar’s cap as if for a first offering of friendship. Gunnar sighed, and then stood stock-still with horror.
As she lifted the cap there was a sharp snapping sound, and as the child looked down with surprise, a shining new grenade rolled slowly off Gunnar’s shirt to land at her bare feet.
In a split, agonised second Gunnar’s shocked mind relayed the facts. Someone had placed the grenade beneath the cap, delicately balanced so that even with the pin withdrawn the lever would be held shut merely by the cap’s weight on top.
With one desperate sob Gunnar hurled himself forward, so that his dripping body actually passed across the bomb as it lay snugly in the sand. The child screamed in terror as Gunnar gathered her frail body in his arms, and without losing momentum crashed forward and down into a slight dip.
He did not hea
r the grenade explode, but was conscious of a great pounding pain in his lungs. His eyes were still open, and he knew vaguely that the child pressed below his body must be screaming, yet he could hear nothing. He wanted to placate her, to make things right, but could no longer fight back the darkness and the feeling that he was being carried through space.
Someone was running towards him, but the sunlight had faded and he could not see who it was. The pressure in his lungs was too much. He could fight no more. Mercifully he received the darkness and lay still.
10
Towing Job
THE NIGHTMARE WAS even more intense, more vivid than usual. Framed against the swirling red and orange background the interrogator remained stark and motionless, like a silhouette, whilst the walls around him appeared to merge, to gather speed, like the inside of a tornado. Gunnar wanted to cry out, to move, but remained as always mesmerised and helpless, blinded to all else but the black, unmoving inquisitor. He could never hear him speak, yet the pounding, merciless questions were always there, fixed in his brain. It was the same as waiting to plunge down a steep cliff, to be trapped between two flashing wheels, every phase of the nightmare carefully spaced, exact in its toll, and awful in its finality. But this time there was a small difference. The inquisitor had a personality, a name. It was Bolod … and although he had no face, Gunnar recognised him as clearly as if he had been confronted by a portrait, But it was time for the pain, the bamboo, the horror to complete the cruel torture.
It was only a dream, the usual one, from which Gunnar freed himself with the desperation of a man escaping a sudden, fast-moving death. It was sheer physical effort which allowed him to pull himself clear, to drag his racked body back to the reality of life. But again there was a difference. This time he could not move, and he heard himself scream as pressure was exerted on his straining shoulders to hold him down to await the torture.
Somewhere, as if from the end of a long tunnel, he heard a voice say, ‘He’s coming round, hold him!’
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