Night of Terror by Desmond Bagley

Ramirez,” said Geordie curtly. I left them together and went up to

take another look at Falcon, feeling sick and depressed.

The launch still bobbed at the end of its line, but somewhere under

that twitching sea lay our dinghy and one of our crewmen.

The distance to the belching gout of smoke seemed less.

Either we were dragging our anchor, which was very likely with the

disturbance under her hull and the extra weight of Sirena alongside, or

the area of eruption was enlarging – an even more alarming prospect.

There was even more steam than before and I longed to know what was

going on behind that red-lit misty curtain. I would have very much

liked to ask Mark’s opinion.

I went back down to Geordie. “We’ve got to get out of here before

Falcon really starts acting up.” He looked across the sea. “It’s

weird, I’ll grant you, but is it that serious? Lots of observers have

seen eruptions at sea before now. And Mark said it’s been going on for

days already.”

“This is just an overture,” I said. No time now to begin a lecture on

undersea vulcanology. “I don’t think we should be around when the

finale’s being played.” “Oh, I want out too, make no mistake. But

we’ve got a closer problem than Falcon right now – our friends out

there.

I wish to God I knew where Ramirez was, and what he’s planning.

Bill, could you see any sign of tampering with our hull? They’ve

threatened us with explosives.” Bill shook his head. “No, skipper.

At least not that I’ve seen.” My warning about Falcon seemed to have

passed Geordie by – it was something quite out of his experience. He

was still wholly concerned with unshackling Esmerelda, and certainly,

for the moment he was right.

I asked, “What the hell can we do?” “Well, whoever’s in command over

there – Ramirez Hadley will want to get free as much as we do.

They’re in danger just as we are. And I don’t think they’ll find it so

easy to retake us now, or blow us up as they threatened. Knowing

Ramirez he may be prepared to cut his losses.” “And try another

time?”

“Another time isn’t our problem right now. Let’s solve this one

first.” He was right, and we waited in silence, aware that a plan was

forming in his mind. At last he said, “I reckon we should call a

truce. If we send a man up the mast they won’t fire at him if they

know why he’s going up there.” “What’s the good of sending one man

up?

They’ve had a dozen men up there for an age and they haven’t been able

to achieve much.” “I’ve got an idea about that,” Geordie said, and

passed the word for Jim to join us. “Got any more of that plastic

explosive, AmThe asked.

Jim shook his head. “No, I only had the bit I used on their e engm

Geordie pointed to the masts. “See that yardarm – where it’s tangled

with rigging? Could you blow it off if you fastened a hand grenade on

each side of the spar?” I stared at him, but Jim was already immersed

in technicalities. “It would be a bit tricky, skipper.

Grenades aren’t exactly meant for that sort of thing.” He peered at

the spars doubtfully. “It’s steel tubing.” “Of course,” said

Geordie.

“If it was wood they’d have chopped it through by now. Steel halliards

too.”

“I dunno,”said Jim honestly.

“It would weaken the spar though, wouldn’t it? Geordie persisted.

“It wouldn’t do it any good, if that’s what you want.” “Hell, come

down to brass tacks. Suppose I have the engine going and put a strain

on the yardarm after the grenades are blown, do you think that would do

the trick?” “I reckon it might,”said Jim slowly.”It would be a nice

job to place the grenades right.” Geordie had trapped him neatly.

“You’ll have a go then? You’re our expert.” Jim grinned – “I’ll give

it a bash – if they don’t shoot me.” “Good,” said Geordie briskly.

“We’ll take care of that part of it. You gather together what you need

and I’ll get those grenades. I knew we’d find a use for them.

Mike, you’ll be the best man to negotiate. Try to settle terms for an

armistice with that bunch of pirates.” I wondered if Ramirez would

realize that if he let us go he might never catch up with us again. We

would forever be a threat to his freedom, and he might never agree to

such terms.

There seemed to be too many imponderables. And there was Falcon.

. We were very vulnerable – underarmed, undermanned, and in no position

to dictate terms. And then I thought of Clare, and how precious she

had become to me.

Whatever else, I was determined that she should survive, and to hell

with the rest.

I crawled into the wheelhouse, keeping below window level, and raised

the loudhailer.

“Ahoy, Sirena! I shouted. “Ahoy, Ramirez – can you hear me?” A shot

was fired at the wheelhouse. I heard the smash of broken glass and a

small shower of it fell near me. There was shouting and then

silence.

The only sound came from the ships as they creaked and groaned together

and from the, hissing of the volcano behind us.

“Sirena! Ramirez! I want to talk to you.” My knuckles were white

round the loudhailer. The silence was finally broken by a harsh

voice.

“Well?” “Is that you, Ramirez?” “Yes. What do you want?” “That

volcano

– it’s going to erupt at any moment. Hell, it’s, started.” “I

know.”

He sounded frustrated and I almost smiled with relief. He’d

cooperate.

“We have an idea.” “What can you do?” “We want to send a man up the

foremast. We can clear the rigging.”

His voice was full of suspicion. “How can you do that?” I did not

intend to tell him our plan. I called, “We have an expert here. We

want you to guarantee that he won’t be shot at.” There was an even

longer silence. this time. Someone tapped me on my shoulder and

pushed a note into my hands.

It was from Geordie and read, “Got to slip the anchor. Quiet as

possible. Good luck.” The silence was broken by Ramirez. “All right,

Esmerelda.

We don’t shoot.” I called, “Ramirez, if our man is shot at you’ll be

dead within the hour. Every man here will make you his personal

target.” “You terrify (the.” Was he laughing? “You can send your man

up the mast in five minutes. I will arrange things at this end.” I

crawled out of the wheelhouse and joined Geordie, who had Campbell

beside him. Geordie said, “We heard that.

What do you think?” “I think he’ll hold off,” I said. “He’s in as big

a jam as we are and he knows it. And he must accept that we do have

more expertise aboard here than he has.” “It’s not your neck,” said

Campbell sharply. He was right back on form. “Jim will be an Aunt

Sally if he goes up there.” “It will be his decision,”Geordie said.

“I’ve got some lads up in the bows to slip the anchor. They’ve timed

it in with that, to cover any noise.” He nodded towards Falcon.

I said, “That makes this really urgent – it scares me to death.”

Jim had joined us and was listening gravely as Geordie explained. Then

he said, “All right, I know the odds. I’ll have a go.” I said, “We’ve

got three minutes left. At one minute I’ll call Ramirez again.” We

waited, huddled in the corner of the wheelhouse. The Minutes ticked by

as we listened to the ominous rumbling and hissing from the sea. I

turned to Geordie. “We’re only forty odd miles from Nuku’alofa – a

fast boat could reach us in a couple of hours. Surely that would be

some protection for us.

What’s the chance of getting off a radio message?” Geordie’s voice was

bitter. “The radio was the first thing they smashed. It’s fated.

Shorty’s trying to whip up a spark transmitter out of the wreckage, but

he says it’ll take time.” There was one other faint hope, the

possibility of the pall of black smoke being seen and investigated.

But we knew only too well how few ships there were in this locality.

None of them would be very fast – and as soon as any sensible skipper

came near enough to see what was happening the chances were that he

would keep well clear. Every track of thought seemed to lead to a dead

end.

I crawled into the wheelhouse again and took up the loudhailer.

“Ramirez!” “I hear you.” “Our man’s going forward now. In the

open.

He has a bag of, tools with him. No shooting!” “No shooting,” he

agreed. “I have told my men.” I watched through the window as Jim

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