Alistair MacLean Sea Thrillers 4-Book Collection: San Andreas, The Golden Rendezvous, Seawitch, Santorini. Alistair MacLeanЧитать онлайн книгу.
torpedoes.’
‘Say no more, Bo’sun,’ Jamieson said. ‘You’ve got me convinced. Here’s one passenger who wants Aberdeen struck right off our cruise itinerary.’
‘I have a feeling you’re right,’ Bowen said. ‘Maybe one hundred per cent. Even if the chances were only ten per cent we wouldn’t be justified in taking the risk. I have a complaint to make against myself, Bo’sun. I’m supposed to be the captain. Why didn’t I think of that?’
‘Because you had other things on your mind, sir.’
‘And where does that leave me?’ Patterson said.
‘I’ve only just thought of it myself, sir. I’m sure that when Mr Kennet and I were ashore in Murmansk we missed something. We must have. What I still don’t understand is why the Russians pulled us into Murmansk, why they were so prompt and efficient in repairing the hole in the hull and completing the hospital. If I had the key to answer that question I’d know the answer to everything, including the answer to why the Russians were so helpful and cooperative, in marked contrast to their standard behaviour which usually ranges from unfriendliness to downright hostility. But I don’t have that key.’
‘We can only speculate,’ Bowen said, ‘If you’ve had time to consider this, Bo’sun, you’ve obviously had time to consider alternative ports. Safe ports. Bolt-holes, if you like.’
‘Yes, sir. Iceland or the Orkneys – that is, Reykjavík or Scapa Flow. Reykjavík has the disadvantage of being half as far away again as Scapa: on the other hand, the further west we go the more we steam out of the reach of the Heinkels and Stukas. Heading for Scapa, we should be within easy reach, practically all the way, of the Heinkels and Stukas based in Bergen and there’s the other disadvantage that ever since Oberleutnant Prien sank the Royal Oak up there, the mine defences make entry impossible. But it has the advantage that both the Navy and the RAF have bases there. I don’t know for certain but I should think it very likely that they maintain frequent air patrols round the Orkneys – after all, it is the base of the Home Fleet. I have no idea how far out those patrols range, fifty miles, a hundred, I don’t know. I think there’s a good chance that we would be picked up long before we’re even near Scapa.’
‘Tantamount to being home and dry, is that it, Bo’sun?’
‘I wouldn’t quite say that, sir. There are always the U-boats.’ McKinnon paused and considered. ‘As I see it, sir, four things. No British pilot is going to attack a British hospital ship. We’d probably be picked up by a patrol plane like a Blenheim which wouldn’t waste much time in calling up fighter support and no German bomber pilot in his senses is going to risk meeting up with Hurricanes or Spitfires. The patrol plane would also certainly radio Scapa to have them open a minefield passage for us. Lastly, they’d probably send out a destroyer or frigate or sloop – something fast, anyway, with enough depth-charges to discourage any U-boat that might be around.’
‘Not a very enviable choice,’ Bowen said. ‘Three days to Scapa, you would say?’
‘If we manage to shake off this U-boat which I’m pretty sure is following us. Five days to Reykjavík.’
‘What if we don’t manage to shake off our shadower? Aren’t they going to become very suspicious indeed when they see us altering course for Scapa Flow?’
‘If they do succeed in following us, they won’t notice any course alteration for a couple of days or more. During that time we’ll be on a direct course to Aberdeen. Once we get south of the latitude of Fair Isle we’ll alter course south-west or west-south-west or whatever for Scapa.’
‘It’s a chance. It’s a chance. You have any preference, Mr Patterson?’
‘I think I’ll leave my preference to the Bo’sun.’
‘I second that,’ Jamieson said.
‘Well?’
‘I’d feel happier in Scapa, sir.’
‘I think we all would. Well, Bo’sun, suggestion number one dealt with. Number two?’
‘There are six exits from the hospital area, sir, three for’ard and three aft. Don’t you think it would be wiser, sir, if we had everybody confined to the hospital area, except, of course, for those on watch in the engine-room and on the bridge? We know our latest Flannelfoot is still with us and it seems a good idea to confine his sphere of operations – if he has any left, which we don’t know – to as limited an area as possible. I suggest we seal up four of those doors, two aft, two for’ard and post guards at the other two doors.’
‘Weld them up, you mean?’ Jamieson said.
‘No. A bomb might hit the hospital. The two doors not sealed off might buckle and jam. Everyone would be trapped. We just close the doors in the usual way and give them a couple of moderate taps with a sledge.’
Patterson said: ‘And maybe Flannelfoot has access to his own private sledgehammer.’
‘He’d never dare use it. First metallic clang and he’d have the whole ship’s company on his back.’
‘True, true.’ Patterson sighed, ‘I grow old. You had a third point?’
‘Yes, sir. Involves you, if you will. I don’t think it would do any harm if you were to assemble everybody and tell them what’s going on – not that you can get across to Captain Andropolous and his crew – because I’m sure most have no idea what’s going on. Tell them about Dr Singh, the transceiver and what happened to Limassol. Tell them that another Flannelfoot is at large and that’s why we’ve closed all four doors so as to limit his movements. Please tell them that although it’s not a very nice thing, they are to watch each other like hawks – it is, after all, in their own survival interests – and to report any suspicious behaviour. It might just cramp Flannelfoot’s style and it will at least give them something to do.’
Bowen said: ‘You really think, Bo’sun, that this – the sealing off of the doors and the warning to the ship’s company – will keep Flannelfoot in check?’
‘On the basis of our performance to date,’ McKinnon said gloomily, ‘I very much doubt it.’
The afternoon and the early evening – and even although they were now more than three hundred miles south of the Arctic Circle early evening in those latitudes was still very early indeed – passed away as peacefully as McKinnon had expected. There was no sign of the U-boat but he had been certain that the U-boat would not show itself. There was no sign of any reconnaissance Condor, which only served to confirm his belief in the enemy concealed below, nor did any Heinkels or Stukas appear over the eastern horizon, for the hour of the coup de grâce had not yet come.
Half an hour after sunset the night was as dark as it was likely to become on the Norwegian Sea. Cloud cover was patchy and the rest of the sky hazy although a few pale stars could be seen.
‘Time, I think, George,’ McKinnon said to Naseby. ‘I’m going below. When the engines stop – that should be in seven or eight minutes’ time – bring her round 180° till we’re heading back the way we came. You should be able to pick up our wash even though it is dark. After that – well, we can only hope that you’ll pick up a star. I should be back in about ten minutes or so.’
On his way down he passed the Captain’s cabin. There was no longer anyone there to guard the sextant and chronometer: with two of the for’ard exits from the hospital area closed off and the third under guard it was impossible for anyone to reach the upper deck and so the bridge. On the deck it was so dark, the Bo’sun was pleased to note, that he had to use the guideline to find his way to the hospital. Stephen, the young stoker, was there, acting the part of sentry: McKinnon told him to join the others on the mess-decks. When they got there McKinnon found Patterson waiting for him.
‘Everybody here, sir?’
‘Everybody. Not forgetting Curran and Ferguson.’ Those two had been holed up in the