“The original beast.” xo5
The radio crackled and Keogh’ voice sounded.
“As the song says, is that the captain of the ship?”
Tully pressed the answer button. “What do you want?”
“A man on deck.”
“All right.” Tully turned to Dolan. “Down you go, Mick? Two hours, then I’ll have Mullerr61ieve you, and you’d better take an oilskin. You’ll need it.” He smiled savagely. “See, it’s started to rain again.” DOLAN’S SHIFT BEING OVER, IT WAS MULLER who stood by the ladder, clearly visible in the sickly yellow glow of the deck lights, a miserable-looking figure as he tried to shelter from the rain under the lower canopy of the wheelhouse.
“Now isn’t that the great sight!” Keogh demanded as he devoured one of Mary Power’s ham sandwiches.
Kathleen laughed as she Passed hT a cup of tea.
“You’re a terrible man, Martin.”
Ryan said, “His bad luck he’s on the wroag side.
Here, I’ll put the heater on for a while.”
A warm glow spread throughout the cabin within seconds. “God, but that’s nice,” Kathleen said.
Ryan took another sandwich. “You’ll be fine back there in the cabin. Nice and cosy on that bunk bed.
You get your head down and get some sleep.” “What about you and Martin?”
“Oh, we can snatch an hour or two just sitting here. We’ll take it in turns.”
They finished eating and she put the rest of the ‘106
sandwiches and the Thermos away and looked out into the darkness where the sea was angry, whitecaps driving in, rolling the Irish Rose from one side to the other.
Kathleen clutched at Keogh’s arm. “Exciting, isn’t it?” he said sardonically.
“Damn you, Martin, I’m bloody terrified and you know it.”
“It always gets worse before it gets better, that’s the way of it,” he teased her.
She pufiched him in the shoulder. “You can stop that.”
Ryan looked at his watch. “Nine o’clock. Get on
the bunk and try to sleep. You’ll be better off.” “Yes, well, first I want to go to the toilet.” “The one thing we don’t have,” he said.
“It’s all fight for you and Martin. You can stand at the side of the truck. I can’t do that.”
“Dear God.” Ryan picked up the radio and called the wheelhouse· “Tully, come in.”
“What do you want?” Tully demanded.
“My niece wants the toilet. Keogh is going to es-con her, and just to keep you in order he’ll take Muller with him.”
“All fight,” Tully said.
Keogh opened the door on his side and stepped down, his AK at’ the ready, the stock folded. The wind was much stronger now driving in the rain as he approached Muller.
“The lady needs the toilet, so you lead the way and watch yourself.” Muller glared at him but did as he was told, opening the door to the companionway and leading the way down. Keogh followed, the girl at his heels. He kept Muller covered while she went inside.
When she came out, Keogh said to Muller, “Go on, you first.” Muller obeyed sullenly and took up his statfon under the wheelhouse canopy whilst Keogh and Kathleen returned to the truck and climbed ‘inside.
“Lie down now,” Ryan told her. “There are blankets there. Try and sleep.” She did as she was told and Keogh and her uncle sat there, looking out as rain streamed down the windscreen and the ship rolled.
“Better than a roller-coaster, this;” Ryan said.
“The Germans built them for inshore work,” Keogh told him. “The bottom’s almost flat.” He lit a cigarette. “I’ve been thinking. Very conVbnient, Tully having the one pistol.” “I know. I wouldn’t believe that for one minute.” “That ploy of yours giving him the fifty ‘housand back. Will it work?” “I’d like to think so, but I doubt it. He’s a greedy animal, that one, but it was worth the try.” “So what’s your best guess?” “Oh, he’ll stay on course because I can check with my marine compass. I should imagine he’ll wait till we’re close to the Irish coast. The early hours would be best. They’ll expect us to be tried, so I suggest you get your head down for a while and I’ll keep watch.” AND KEOGH, WITH THE SOLDIER’S HABIT INgrained of snatching an hour of sleep when he could, simply leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and was asleep in the instant. His breathing deepened and Ryan watched him for a while. Hell on wheels, one, and capable of anything, but who are you, Marin?