Frazer straightened his back and looked at the sky. Still a lot of cloud about. It had made fixing their position difficult. But with luck they should be ready to alter course for the little island yacht haven bang on time. He examined his feelings and discovered that he was quite proud of what he had done.
He almost fell over Ives’s legs as he sprawled asleep against the flag locker. Poor Ives, he had had to order him off the wheel, to hand over to a spare seaman so that he could rest. When they made their final approach the coxswain would have to be at his best. Frazer smiled to himself. Ives had made the boat something personal. Like the proper navy.
Frazer thought of Lynn Balfour and the man she had lost, whom she still loved. Why not put her out of his mind. It was more than likely she would turn away from another similar association to the one which killed her lover. But she did telephone him. She had-Frazer stiffened as he heard Goudie’s footsteps on the bridge gratings. He always wore the same old scuffed sea boots. They must have seen as much action as their owner. He did not belong in this century, Frazer thought. He would have been right at home in the sailing navy, or as the skipper of a privateer.
Goudie joined him by the glass screen and peered at the thrusting arrowhead of the forecastle. Only the occasional necklace of white spray from the stem revealed the division between hull and water.
“On time, Pilot.” It was a remark but sounded like a question.
Frazer said, “I’m satisfied, sir.”
Goudie was not listening. Frazer smiled. As usual.
Then Goudie said, “I wanted a second boat to replace Able Two, you know.”
Frazer waited, and guessed that was why Goudie had gone ashore immediately they had moored in Tunis.
Goudie said, “Needn’t have bothered. Lot of bloody fools, mental pygmies. You’d think I was trying to arrange a pleasure cruise the way those staff wallahs carried on.” His fist beat a slow time on the screen and Frazer could feel the driving power of the man. Like a fever.
“Prothero’s gone back to the UK and Creeping Jesus with him. Frazer hid a grin. That must be Captain Heywood. “If I could have raised the Boss he might have fixed something.”
Frazer asked, “Is he that good?”
Goudie shrugged. “He still wants to play it all by the rules.
Like cricket. But then he’s always been like that.”
Frazer was lost. “You knew him before the war, sir?” Goudie turned and stared in the darkness. “He used to
write boys’ adventure yams, didn’t you know that? Called himself Spindrift.” He shook his head with mock sadness. “You colonials have sadly neglected your education!” His mood changed again. “I shall be in the chart space if you need me. Change the lookouts every half-hour. Eyes begin to accept danger or imagine things after a stint of this stuff.” He strode away, pausing only to examine the compass. He had said nothing about Ives asleep in one corner of the bridge. He delegated his authority, Frazer thought, and set the same standards as he accepted himself. What had Goudie been or done before the war? He chuckled and saw a lookout turn his head. Prothero, Boys’ Own Paper. It fitted him like one of his own characters.
Shadows moved on the cramped deck and around the gun mountings. Archer up forward with the two-pounder, Ryder aft with the secondary armament and depthcharges, with Allenby ready to take over from any of them. Four officers and twelve hands. All chiefs and few Indians.
He heard Ives give a gentle snore, and wished he too could flop down somewhere and sleep. But it would be a long night. There was still a chance that the plan might be changed or cancelled altogether. He wondered how he would feel if Jupiter was called off. He must be raving mad to feel disappointment, but in his heart knew that was how it would be.
He stretched and groaned. Time to make another check.
He came up with a jerk as he recalled the Italian general who had met his father, who had sailed with him aboard the Onondaga. Goudie had told him what would happen to Tesini if the plan went wrong. But suppose Goudie ordered him to pull the trigger, how could he?
He was still brooding over it when Allenby mounted the ladder to relieve him for some hot cocoa.
Frazer’s head jerked up and he realized with disbelief that he had fallen asleep on his feet. In spite of the slow, unsteady motion, despite everything that experience and the navy’s discipline dictated.
A seaman said, “WIT, sir.”
Frazer lurched to the voicepipe. It must have been that which had roused him.
“What is it, Sparks?”
“Picked up a transmission, sir. Couldn’t make it out. German I think. Quite close.”
“Bloody hell!” Frazer grappled with the news, his mind clear and icy again. “Keep a good listening watch, I’ll tell the CO.” He did not need to, Goudie was already there. “Sparks has picked up—”
Goudie nodded briskly. “Yes. I heard. So much for intelligence reports.” He was thinking aloud. “How far now?”
“Should sight the island in forty-five minutes, sir. Sooner if the clouds clear.”
Goudie’s shadow leaned back as he stared at the sky. “They won’t. Pass the word. Absolute silence on the upper deck, and tell the Chief not to fling any spanners around. Not like the Krauts to poop off signals even in these waters. They must feel pretty safe, wherever they are.”
Their eyes met in the darkness and Frazer said, “They must be there on the island.”
Goudie rubbed his chin. “If so, they could have the jump on us. On the other hand, that’s a double reason for their not transmitting on WIT.”
The voicepipe squeaked again and the lookout said, “No more signals, sir.”
Goudie grunted. “That settles it. We’ll go straight in.” Frazer waited. Goudie had intended to lower their one small boat with Allenby aboard to sniff out the land and lead the way. “The yacht haven was reported clear, but the enemy may have mined the area since the last report.” Goudie continued in the same unemotional tone, “Issue extra automatic weapons immediately. We may have to fight off an attack, or shoot our way out of the place.”
Frazer saw Ives’s powerful shoulders silhouetted against the clouds. Back on the wheel. Ready for anything. It was strange when you thought about it. Ives had had less seatime and experience of this kind of thing than anyone. And yet he seemed to radiate a sort of confidence that was infectious.
Goudie said softly, “It may mean that General Tesini has been a bit dicey if the Jerries are already onto his little game. ” He did not sound troubled; it was just another problem to be solved.
Frazer considered what would happen, if the enemy knew exactly what was going on. They would all be dead within the next few hours.
Every movement and sounds of feet had stopped on the bridge and each gun mounting. They all knew. Guns would be cocked, ears straining to catch the first hostile sound.
Goudie said, “One thing, Pilot, we’ve got to knock out that radio, chop bloody chop.” He lapsed into silence again.
The deck yawed and plunged and Frazer knew they were barely able to keep steerage way with the engines throttled down to their minimum revolutions. In open sea they could outpace any other vessel, even the deadly E-Boats, but here, inshore of an invisible landfall, they were like a cripple.
He peered over the screen and saw the nearest machine guns moving warily from side to side. That was Weeks. It seemed a lifetime since he had met him and Allenby with his jeep. In the gloom he could see the trailing snakes of ammunition belts, with more close by for instant reloading. Up forward the slender two-pounder was also training slightly from bow to bow. That was Leading Seaman Sullivan. What was it between him and Ives? Their dislike for one another was almost physical.
Archer was there too, hidden in the shadows, using his glasses to watch for the first hint of land. If they got into the yacht haven without trouble Archer was to remain with the boat. Goudie had mentioned it casually although he had previously detailed Ryder for that. Ryder was after all more used to th
e.MGB than any of them. Goudie knew Archer’s qualities and his failings. Did he see something different in Archer? Perhaps the air attack and the suddenness of the other boat’s destruction had been one load too much for him.
“Bridge! Land in sight, port bow.”
The night glasses lifted as one and Goudie said, “Good navigation, Pilot. ” He sounded husky, but Frazer was more surprised by the compliment. Goudie must be slipping.
All at once the island was upon them. It seemed incredible that it could be so near and yet remain unseen until now. Frazer knew it was a normal trick with night vision but it made the closeness of danger all the more stark.
“Stand by all guns.” Goudie stood on the gratings with both hands gripping the screen. “Not a bloody sound from anyone, right?”
“Signal, sir!”
Goudie gave what sounded like a sigh. “Wait for repeat.”
Frazer listened to the growl of the engines and their echo thrown back from the land like another vessel. It sounded deafening, but again he knew it was the usual illusion.
He saw the short stammer of Morse from a torch and heard Goudie say, “Seems all right. Acknowledge.”
Frazer flashed his torch briefly over the side of the bridge. It was wrapped around with a piece of bunting, but quite bright enough. Too bright if there were any sentries about.
Goudie said, “Very well. Stop main engine. Slow ahead port and starboard outer. Stand by with heaving lines, but don’t drop your guard, any of you!”
Two seamen vaulted over the side as a wooden jetty loomed out of the blackness, their rubber shoes soundless as they ran to secure a mooring line. The two-pounder and several light automatics covered their every move, but apart from a motionless figure in battledress they might have had the whole island to themselves.
Goudie with Frazer beside him climbed down to the pier. After all the hours of creeping progress and the sickening motion it took both of them several moments to get their balance.
Goudie peered at the man who had signaled with his torch. He was hung about with ammunition, and carried a German sub-machine gun in the crook of his arm. It was just possible to see a corporal’s chevrons on his battledress blouse.
“Is everything all right?” Goudie sounded very calm, but Frazer had come to know it was a carefully rehearsed act.
The soldier nodded. “Major Thomas is with the Italian general now.”
The soldier had a slight accent, not unlike Thomas’s when he had lost his temper on Sicily.
He added, “There are Germans here. They have a boat on the other side of-” He struggled for the right word and then pointed vaguely into the darkness where a jutting headland was still in total darkness.
Goudie snapped, “What kind of boat, man?”
The soldier looked at him but his expression was invisible. He replied coldly, “Transport,” the slightest hesitation,
“sir. They are here to remove some of the general’s things.”
Frazer gave a silent whistle. This was cutting things a bit too fine for comfort.
Goudie said, “Well, this boat has a radio. It must be silenced. Right now.” He looked at Frazer. “Clear the boat, all except for the engineroom chaps. Tell the Chief to make certain his men have their Stens with them at all times. Archer will remain in command. He can keep three ratings. I want the rest up here double quick. Tell Allenby to bring his bag of tricks.”
The soldier watched impassively as the seamen scampered along the pier. He said, “There is a telephone in that hut. It connects with the general’s house.”
Frazer’s eyes were growing accustomed to the gloom and he saw the long, pale outline of a motor yacht, covered from stem to stern with a tailormade tarpaulin. The general was a rich man still. Influential too, not to have had his boat commandeered by the navy.
Goudie tapped his boot impatiently as Ives marshalled his small landing party into order.
He asked, “What is Thomas doing?”
“Major Thomas is explaining matters to the general, sir.”
Goudie unbuttoned his holster. “What country do you come from?”
The soldier shrugged. “I am sorry, sir. I am not allowed to reveal that.”
Goudie swung away. “Bloody cloak-and-dagger heroes!”
Frazer could not help grinning even though his heart was pumping against his ribs. Goudie sounded just like Levant’s skipper.
Goudie led the way along the pier. From what the taciturn soldier had said it seemed as though the Germans were uninterested in anything but collecting Tesini’s personal belongings. Either he had fallen out of favor or more likely he was needed on the mainland in the event of an Allied invasion.
Goudie said quietly, “Hardly anyone lives here. Just a few peasants on the other side of the island, and the rest work for Tesini and the estate. All right for some, eh?”
The house was easy to see despite the surrounding darkness. It was white, with a long driveway which was as straight as a ruler and lined with matched trees like ghostly soldiers.
One of Thomas’s men lay beside a marble statue, a Bren gun covering the gardens. He did not look up as they passed. There was something unreal about Thomas’s raiders. Frightening and somehow alien.
The Germans had overrun and enslaved so many countries, these men could be from any one of them. They had good cause to fight this secret war. To hate.
II Nearer to the pillared entrance lay another figure. It was a dead German, some broken plates and dishes scattered around him. An army orderly probably, Frazer thought. Killed like an animal as he had been going about his domestic duties. He could smell the blood, and wanted to soak his hands and face in one of the nearby fountains.
Frazer stood by the door and felt Ives close behind him. Their guide stood aside and Frazer pushed open the double doors. More darkness, although he did not know what he had been expecting. Suddenly a gun barrel jabbed hard into his ribs and a hand deftly removed his pistol from its holster.
Then Major Thomas’s voice said, “Close the doors. Put the lights on.”
The sailors crowded into an ornate hallway, and the soldier who had removed Frazer’s gun so easily stood grinning at him.
Thomas said, “Give it to him.”
Frazer took the revolver and said, “Try that again, and I’ll flatten you.” He was surprised that he sounded so calm.
Thomas looked at Goudie. “Only one boat?” It sounded like an accusation.
Goudie nodded. “We’ll manage.”
“You know about the Germans?” Thomas glanced up at the ceiling as someone dragged furniture across a room.
Goudie said, “Lieutenant Allenby will deal with them.”
“Allenby, eh?” Thomas raised his eyebrows. “A strange choice. “
Frazer shifted restlessly. Why didn’t they get on with it? Someone from the German boat might come to the house at any moment. Even if they could outfight them, they could not prevent a signal from being sent. It would be a hornets’ nest in a matter of hours.
Thomas continued, “It seems that the general is being recalled to some new post. He may suspect that he is mistrusted. He will not say. But he remains firm about his conditions.” He watched one of his men carrying a satchel of papers towards the door. “There were three Germans with the general. One you probably passed. The second was killed as he tried to reach the sea. The third is being questioned. There may be things we should know.” He straightened his belt. “Come, meet the general.” He gave a brief sardonic smile. “He imagines he can give us orders.” It seemed to amuse him.
General Gustavo Tesini made an imposing figure. He was tall and heavily built but because of his height looked perfectly proportioned in his immaculate green uniform. His hair was grey, and his small pointed beard was white-tipped and looked as if it was regularly combed to keep it perfect. When he spoke his voice suited.him. Deep and resonant. He was even jovial as he said to Frazer, “Just like your father!” He shook his hand warmly. Frazer noticed that his eyes
were small and sharp, like Prothero’s. There was no other similarity.
Goudie said, “I have only one boat, General. You had better take only essential possessions with you. How many people do you have?”
The general looked at him gravely. “I am speaking to your lieutenant.” It sounded like a reprimand.
Thomas snapped, “I shall be with the other prisoner.”
He went out, deliberately turning his back on the general and slammed the door behind him.
Tesini said slowly, “A coarse fellow.” He gathered his thoughts again. “My wife is here, and my youngest son. A few servants, but they are of no account now. They will remain here.”
Frazer watched him curiously. A friend of his father’s. He doubted very much’ if Bill Frazer would care much for the man now. He recalled suddenly what Allenby’s father had said when they had been talking together. War brings out the best and the worst in people. But it doesn’t change them. Whatever it is has always been there, waiting for the right moment.
God, it was true enougli of the people he had met in the past months, he thought.
Goudie asked, “The German prisoner, is he an officer?”
The general shook his head. “Unhappily no. It is in fact a young woman from the army secretariat. She is an interpreter, among other things, and was sent with me to select certain papers that might be considered secret.”
Frazer looked away. What could she know which would be of any use? He thought of Thomas’s face and guessed it would make no difference what she knew.
The general leaned backwards and his beautiful polished boots squeaked on the carpet. “A distasteful affair.”
Goudie said, “We shall remain here throughout the day. But first we must get rid of that damned radio. Then at dusk we leave.” He looked at Frazer and said, “Go and see if Allenby’s doing his stuff.” His eyes said that, as far as he was concerned, the general was not worth the risk and the loss of Able Two.
The Volunteers Page 12
