by Jack Higgins
Mason offered Hagen a cigarette and as he lit it, said: 'Am I mistaken or did I interrupt something? Have you told her?'
'I was going to tell her as you came in.'
Mason nodded and said thoughtfully, 'Are you still going to tell her?'
Hagen started to say yes and then he suddenly knew that the moment had passed. He sighed and cursed softly. 'No, it will have to wait a little while longer.'
Mason laughed and there was sympathy in his voice. 'You know I feel sorry for you, Hagen. From being the white-haired boy you're going to become the worst heel she's ever met.' He slapped him on the shoulder. 'Come on. Let's get breakfast over and we can start the diving.'
For a moment Hagen lingered on deck. He could hear Mason greet Rose with a joke and she laughed gaily, and he cursed softly to himself because he knew that Mason was right. For the moment he decided to leave the situation as it was and went down into the cabin.
It was nine-thirty when Hagen made the first dive and by that time the sun was high in the sky and visibility under water was crystal-clear. He poised over the launch, looking her over, and laughed to himself when he thought of his fears of the previous evening. The sunlight streamed through the water and coloured fish swam in and around the launch. He swam down and entered through the shattered entrance to the cabin. Sunlight streamed down through the crystal water and in through the port-holes, perfectly illuminating the interior so that, when he passed into the inner cabin, the gold was clearly visible.
The bars of gold lay in a jumbled mass in the angle of the cabin roof. Presumably when the launch had tilted the boxes must have been smashed open against the bulkheads. He picked up one of the bars and found it comparatively light to handle. It retarded his rate of progress to the surface a little but he kicked strongly and his rubber flippers did the trick. He came out into the sunlight and Mason leaned over and took the bar from him. Hagen pulled himself over the rail and they all gathered round. 'It doesn't look like much,' Rose said in a disappointed tone.
Hagen laughed and pulled his heavy sheath knife from his belt and scraped the dull metal surface of the block. The gold showed through, suddenly glinting in the sunlight, and O'Hara whistled. They examined the bar in silence for a moment. Mason was the first to speak. 'How much do you think it's worth?'
Hagen weighed the bar in his hands for a moment. 'Hard to be accurate,' he answered. 'I'd say this bar weighs about five pounds. Should be worth in the region of two thousand five hundred dollars.'
Mason's eyes gleamed momentarily and then his expression changed. 'That means there must be a hell of a lot of bars to bring up.'
'I was wondering when you'd realize that,' Hagen said. 'About a hundred, I'd say.'
Rose had been listening quietly and now she interrupted. 'I think there were five boxes originally, Mark.'
He nodded. 'What I'll try to do is repack the bars and secure the boxes in a cocoon of rope. That way they should hold long enough to be hauled to the surface.'
'It's going to take a long while, lad,' O'Hara told him.
'It would take a damned sight longer to bring the stuff up a bar at a time,' Hagen said with a shrug.
The necessary precautions were quickly made. O'Hara and Mason swung the spar from which the block and tackle were suspended out over the side and lowered the heavy hook and cable down into the water. When Hagen dived for the second time he carried a spare coil of rope with him. He followed the cable down to the bottom of the lagoon, and picking up the hook, dragged it behind him when he entered the launch.
The task was easier than he had expected. Three of the boxes seemed to be in quite good condition and only their lids had been shattered when they had smashed into the bulkheads. He carefully packed twenty bars of the gold into one of the good boxes and then bound it securely with rope. He fastened the hook into position and then jerked on the cable giving the prearranged signal. O'Hara and Mason began to heave and the box lifted a little and jerked across the cabin. Hagen followed, helping it over the rough spots and through the doors and, finally, out on to the deck. The rest was easy. He followed it up to the surface and clambered on board as O'Hara and Mason swung it in over the deck. Mason was jubilant. 'Thirty-five minutes,' he said. 'Pretty good going.'
As they uncoiled the rope from around the box Hagen rested. 'It may not be so easy with some of the others,' he said. 'This was probably the best of the boxes.' As he spoke, O'Hara uncoiled the last twist of rope and the box gently burst open at one side. 'See what I mean?' Hagen said.
He dived again and repeated the operation with the other two good boxes. He worked steadily, taking his time, and stayed in the water when the second box was raised. It was about eleven-thirty when the third box was successfully on deck and he decided to take a break. He was sitting on deck having a smoke and a cup of coffee when Chang came out of the reeds in a large and roomy canoe. O'Hara threw him a line and he hopped over the rail and stood before them bowing and smiling hugely. He was wearing a spotless white shirt and blue silk pantaloons. Around his brow was a headband made by a brilliant silk scarf of many colours.
'Greetings, lord,' he said to Hagen. 'I bring the thanks of my family.'
Hagen gave him a cigarette and the fisherman squatted down on the deck and puffed away with every evidence of enjoyment. 'What of your brother?' Hagen asked him. 'Have you buried him yet?'
Chang nodded and explained that the funeral had taken place that morning. It had been an occasion for much rejoicing, not only by his family, but by the entire village. There was to be a celebration that evening and they were all invited. Hagen refused, showing the proper amount of reluctance. 'We have much work yet to finish,' he said, 'and at evening we must move back to the sea.' Chang looked very disappointed and Hagen added, 'Have your people noticed any strangers in the marshes or any of the Government men who wear the Red Star?'
Chang shook his head. 'You are the only outsiders here, lord. Our young men fish in every part of the marshes. We would know at once if strangers appeared.'
Hagen translated for the benefit of Mason and O'Hara, and Mason grinned. 'Things are looking up,' he said. 'We'll be waiting for that boat right on schedule in the morning.'
Hagen nodded and Chang scrambled to his feet and prepared to leave. 'Is there anything I can do for you, lord?' he asked.
Before Hagen could reply Rose interrupted him and spoke directly to the fishermen. 'Have you fish or fresh fruit?'
He nodded. 'I will return in two hours.'
Rose caught his arm as he prepared to climb over the rail, and turned to Hagen. 'I'm going to go with him, Mark,' she said.
Hagen was astounded. 'Don't be crazy,' he said. 'You can't go off on your own in this place.'
'Why not?' Rose demanded. 'We're the only intruders, as Chang just told you. I'll be safe enough in the marshes with him and there's nothing I can do here except stand and watch. Steve and O'Hara won't let me lift the bars - they say they're too heavy.'
Mason laughed. 'Let her go if she wants to. There's nobody around in these marshes that Chang and his pals don't know about. She'll be back in a couple of hours.'
Hagen still felt reluctant but she brushed any further argument aside by scrambling over the rail and dropping down into the canoe. Chang seated himself in the stern and as they moved away she turned and waved at Hagen. 'Don't worry,' she called. 'See you soon.'
For a brief moment Hagen stood watching and as they disappeared into the reeds Mason said, 'Too late to stop her now.' Hagen nodded and as he tightened the straps of the aqua-lung a vague uneasiness stirred within him.
He worked hard for the next hour. The two remaining boxes were almost in pieces and it took patience and concentrated effort to rope them successfully together. The first box was hauled to the surface without incident. As he ventured into the cabin for the last time and hooked the remaining box to the cable he was conscious of a feeling of distinct relief. It had gone more smoothly than he would have dared to hope. He lifted the box through the ent
rance and it began a slow and jerky ascent through the water. For a moment he watched it with satisfaction and then he started to follow it. Suddenly one side of the box bulged, and five or six bars squeezed through the strained coils of rope and cascaded downwards to the bottom of the lagoon.
The whole thing happened in a second and the bars seemed to glide down in slow motion. Hagen poised in mid-water gazing at them in stupefaction until one of them grazed his shoulder. The pain of the heavy blow galvanized him into life again and he twisted out of the path of the other bars. He drifted up to the surface and Mason reached down and hauled him over the rail. Hagen jerked away with his breathing-tube and swore violently. 'What luck!' he said.
Mason handed him a lighted cigarette. 'It could have been worse,' he said. 'You'll have to bring up the odd bars singly.'
Hagen laughed sharply. 'Hell, you're right,' he said. 'We can't grumble. Everything's gone marvellously until now.' He slumped down on the engine-room hatch and inhaled the cigarette smoke with pleasure.
O'Hara was busily engaged in freeing the box from its cocoon of rope and Hagen saw that much of the gold had already disappeared from the deck. The old man kept stopping and listening and suddenly he spat into the lagoon and stood up. 'I don't like it,' he said.
Mason turned in surprise. 'What's up with you?' he said.
'It's the birds,' the old man replied. 'Ever since we've been in this stinking plague-spot they've done nothing but make a row. Now there isn't a sound from any of them.'
For a moment they all listened and Hagen was conscious of a cold finger of fear that moved in his stomach. 'He's right,' Mason said abruptly. 'There isn't a sound from the wildfowl.'
Hagen got to his feet. Something was wrong. Something was very damned wrong. There was a sudden flurry of movement and a great cloud of birds lifted skywards from the reeds. 'It stinks,' he said. 'There's something going on.' He moved to the rail and adjusted his diving equipment.
'What are you going to do?' Mason said.
'I'll bring these bars up as fast as I can,' Hagen told him. 'After that we've got some fast thinking to do.'
He worked quickly, with a minimum of effort. There were six bars and he brought them up from the bottom of the lagoon, one at a time. The sixth had fallen a few feet away from the others and when he returned for it he had to search in a small cloud of sand, raised by his feet each time he had kicked towards the surface. He found the bar at last and started to rise, and it was then that he saw the keel of the canoe, moving through the water towards Hurrier.
His first thought was that Rose had returned sooner than she had expected and relief flooded through him. He surfaced a few feet away from the canoe and started to submerge almost in the same moment. Its occupants were two Chinese in drab and dirty uniforms. In their caps was the Red Star of the Army of the People's Republic. One of the soldiers was standing up in the prow, menacing Mason and O'Hara with a machine-pistol. As Hagen submerged the man swung his weapon in an arc and fired a long burst. Hagen descended again and watched the stream of bullets enter the water and then lose their velocity and sink slowly downwards, harmless pieces of lead. He released his grip on the remaining gold bar and kicked strongly towards the keel of the canoe. The rubber flippers propelled him upwards with considerable force. As his head bumped gently into the canoe, he gripped the edge with both hands and pulled the frail craft completely over.
One of the soldiers sprawled against him, his legs thrashing the water, and Hagen grabbed him by the belt and towed him down into the deep water. He wrapped his legs around the rail of the launch and clamped a forearm round the man's throat. It wasn't pretty watching him die. He struggled violently, his limbs moving sluggishly, and there was a nightmarish edge of horror to the whole thing. Suddenly a clawing hand reached back and wrenched the breathing-tube from Hagen's mouth. Hagen compressed his lips and tightened his grip. Blood began to seep from the man's nostrils in two clouds and a moment later he swung loosely against Hagen's arm. Hagen unlocked his fingers and let go. The body bounced away, spun round twice, and settled on to the floor of the lagoon.
There was a roaring in his ears and his temples pounded. He kicked out sharply for the surface and then above him and slightly to one side he saw a tremendous disturbance. It was Mason and the other soldier, locked together, and from the looks of it Mason was not having things all his own way. It was neither the time nor the place for chivalry. He swam towards them, jerking the heavy knife from the sheath at his belt as he approached. He pushed the knife blindly into the soldier's back, using both hands, and kicked for the surface.
He bumped against the side of Hurrier, choking and gasping for breath. A second later Mason surfaced a few feet away. O'Hara pulled them over the rail, one after the other, and they lay on the deck, coughing violently. After a while Hagen sat up and began to check the aqualung and his breathing-tube. 'What are you going to do?' Mason demanded.
Hagen scrambled wearily to his feet. 'Going after that last bar,' he said. 'I think I can just make it.'
'You're mad!' O'Hara screamed. 'That bloody gold's sent you off your head.'
Hagen spat and coughed a little. 'I'm not leaving two and a half thousand down there for the sake of a few minutes' work and a couple of stiffs,' he said and lowered himself over the rail.
As he sank slowly down through the water he felt utterly weary and a little light-headed. If a thing's worth doing at all it's worth doing right, he thought, and he twisted his body and hung suspended over the remaining bar. As his hands fastened over it he suddenly realized the difference between himself and the other two. There was a limit to what they would do - even for money. But not yours truly, he thought sleepily, as he drifted up towards the surface, away from the body that bounced on the sands of the lagoon and the other that slowly descended in a cloud of blood. Mason reached down and took the bar from him. His face was strained and there was something in his eyes, an expression that Hagen couldn't quite analyse. 'You're a fool, Hagen,' the big man said as he hauled him on to the deck. 'But I'll say this for you. You've got more cold-blooded guts than any man I've ever met.'
'Save the compliments,' Hagen gasped. For a moment he stood swaying against the wheelhouse and then he said: 'For Christ's sake help me to get this gear off. We've got to get moving.'
Mason and O'Hara stripped the diving equipment from him and he went below and dressed quickly. His head was splitting and he lit a cigarette with shaking fingers and spat it out in disgust at the taste of it. Mason flopped down on the opposite bunk and O'Hara stood in the doorway. 'What are we going to do, lad?' the old man said.
Hagen took out one of the carbines and loaded it. 'We're going to look for her,' he said, and as the words issued from his lips another voice was saying silently: 'Don't be a fool. Get out of it with the gold while you can, before the whole thing blows up in your face.'
Mason laughed flatly. 'Don't be a bloody fool,' he said. 'We don't even know where the village is.' He straightened up and ran a hand through his damp hair. 'All we can do is sit tight and wait.'
'But they must be here!' Hagen exploded. 'Kossoff and the whole bloody bunch. Chang was wrong. Somehow they've fooled us.'
Mason lifted a hand. 'So Kossoff pulled a fast one. So Chang and his pals were wrong for once. Okay! But Rose is safer with that fisherman than she is with us or I miss my guess. Those guys will never find him unless he wants them to.' Hagen started to speak and Mason said flatly, 'We've got to sit tight and wait.' Hagen suddenly crumpled up inside. He dropped the carbine on the table and threw himself down on his bunk with his face to the wall. A sense of utter frustration filled him, and as the pounding in his brain increased he turned and buried his head in the pillow.
Mercifully his mind had stood enough and he drifted into a state of semi-consciousness. It was a state that lay half-way between waking and sleeping and he hung there, suspended, as though he were back again in the waters of the lagoon, poised over the launch, and his mind became a blank and he thought of n
othing.
It was as if he had awakened from a deep and refreshing sleep. For a moment he lay quietly on the bunk, not stirring. He felt relaxed and in command of himself again and his mind was razor sharp. From the other bunk came the sound of Mason's deep, even breathing and of O'Hara there was no sign. A hot, brooding quiet hung over everything and yet Hagen knew that something had disturbed him. He slipped from the bunk and awakened Mason quietly, clamping a hand over his mouth. He picked up the carbine from the table and went out on deck, Mason at his heels.
O'Hara lay snoring softly in the sun, his back against the wheelhouse. Mason wakened him gently and placed a finger over his lips. The old man's eyes widened and moved slowly to Hagen and then towards the reeds. There was a sound of splashing and they waited tensely, and then a canoe came through the reeds and in the bow was huddled a hunched-up figure.
It was Chang, and as he came alongside they saw that his clothing was muddied and torn and there was blood on his face. A flap of flesh hung from one cheek and flies gorged themselves on the congealing blood. They pulled him over the rail and lowered him gently down on the deck and O'Hara brought one of the bottles of rum and poured some down his throat. Chang coughed violently and a little life returned to his eyes. He had obviously received a terrible beating and as Hagen examined him, fear moved in him. Finally the fisherman managed to speak and told them his story in short, incoherent sentences. Hagen translated for the others, a sentence at a time.
They had arrived at the village without incident. Chang had noticed the silence of the villagers, who appeared to be working at their nets. As they landed, a party of soldiers had rushed from the shelter of the huts from where they had silently threatened the villagers. Chang had attempted to put up a defence but had been clubbed into the ground with rifle butts. When he regained consciousness he was lying in one of the huts. There was no guard on the door and he'd managed to crawl away to a place where he knew he would find an old canoe.
After he had finished talking there was silence and Mason cursed and said, 'What do you think?'
