The Chief Petty Officer in charge handed the submachine guns and the radio pack to Boyd and then turned to Lomax. “I’d strap my pack on if I were you, sir. It’s going to be a bit tricky going in through that surf.”
“That’s an understatement if ever I heard one,” Boyd called softly.
Lomax slipped his arms through the straps of the heavy pack and buckled it securely.
“Ready to go, sir?” the CPO said.
“No tune like the present, Chief.”
He waited, judging the distance, and as the dinghy lifted on the swell, stepped into her and sat down at once. The ratings released the lines and immediately the tide pulled the dinghy away from the submarine and in towards the shore.
The wind was freshening, lifting the waves into white-caps. As he reached for the paddle, the dinghy heeled and water poured over the gunn’l. He adjusted his weight and started to paddle.
Through the curtain of spray the cliffs loomed larger and at their feet waves rolled in to dash upon jagged, dangerous looking rocks.
Boyd was cursing steadily as water slopped over the sides and Alexias plunged his paddle deep into the water, using his great strength to control their progress. And then they were lifted high on a great swell and Lomax saw the base of the cliffs no more than a hundred yards away.
For a moment they seemed to poise there and then they swept down between two great rocks. Strange, swirling currents twisted them in a circle and there was a hollow, slapping sound against the bottom of the dinghy.
The water broke into white, foaming spray that soared high into the air and then they slewed broadside into the surf and lifted high over a great slab of rock.
Lomax went over the stern into the boiling water and floundered to his knees, groping for the radio pack. As his fingers fastened over its straps, another wave sent him staggering.
He tried to stand up and Boyd plunged through the boiling surf, hands outstretched to help him. For a moment they clung together and then another great wave cascaded across the reef bowling them over.
Lomax instinctively released his grip on the radio pack and grabbed for Boyd. He held on desperately, the fingers of his free hands hooked into the gravel as the wave receded with a great sucking sound.
He forced himself to his feet, pulling Boyd up with him, and then Alexias appeared on the scene. Water boiled waist-high again, tugging at their limbs, and as it receded the three of them staggered over the final line of jagged rocks. A moment later they were safe on the white strip of beach at the base of the cliff.
Lomax slumped down, his back against a rock, and Boyd sat beside him. “You all right, sir?”
Lomax nodded. “It was pretty tricky there for a moment.”
4 49
“I managed to hang on to the weapons,” Boyd told him. “It was a damned good job we had the packs strapped on.”
“I’m afraid the radio’s gone,” Lomax said.
Boyd’s teeth gleamed in the darkness. “Never mind. At least it saves you from the temptation of using it when you shouldn’t.”
Alexias squatted beside them. “I managed to grab the dinghy.” There was a hiss as he opened the valves and started to collapse it.
“Thanks for the strong arm,” Lomax told him. “It was a lot rougher than I thought it was going to be.”
Alexias looked across at the white surf pounding in over the jagged reef and shrugged. “On this side of the island the sea is like a woman. You never know what she’s going to do next. As a boy, I’ve swum from this beach on hot summer nights when the water looked liko black glass.”
“We’re here in one piece except for the radio and that’s the main thing,” Lomax said. “How far is it to your brother’s farm?”
“About two miles and the going is easy.”
“Then the sooner we get there the better.” Lomax got to his feet. “According to Intelligence, there’s an hourly patrol even on this side of the island.”