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Night of Terror by Desmond Bagley

daughter quickly loaded their weapons and Clare discarded the jagged

bottle with obvious relief.

In our cabin Geordie and I found our two pistols untouched, and as we

loaded them Campbell nodded with approval. “Now we’ve a fighting

chance,” he said.

We crept on without interruption to the after companionway.

Geordie climbed up cautiously, then aucked back. There was a man

standing above on the deck silhouetted against that yellow-glowing

sky.

He was holding a rifle. Geordie laid his own weapon aside and moved

slowly up the steps. Then he motioned me to follow – Ian was the.

professional but, being much slighter than the Scot, I had a better

chance of reaching the deck simultaneously with Geordie.

Geordie leapt swiftly up and took the guard from behind, one arm

swinging round his neck and the other grabbing the rifle. I scrambled

after him and clubbed the man with the butt, of my gun. He collapsed

in a heap.

We dropped him down the companionway like a sack of potatoes.

With a grim smile Geordie said to me, “You’re learning, laddie.”We

followed the body down again.

We now had three rifles and a small assortment of guns. The odds were

getting better all the time. Geordie, making his disposition of his

troops, said, “Mike, I want to take a look at Falcon. You come with

me.

Ian, cover Mr Campbell, you and Clare keep watch down here shoot

anybody who tries to come down that passageway, long as they aren’t

ours.” We slipped quietly on deck and I got my first full look. at

Falcon.

The yellow glow seemed to be diminishing but there was a lot more

steam, and sheets of a rain-like substance falling to one side of the

troubled area.

In the middle the dense black smoke billowed upwards with a fleetin of

red intermingled in it. The sea there was heaN broken, but the ships

were still in an area of all troubled ocean, save for the – hurrying

turbulent surface. The whistle of high-pressure steam was deafening, a

bad sign, and the smell was gut-wrenching. I stare, in fascination.

But once on deck Geordie was more concerned with the ship. He looked

up at the foremast. “Christ, what a mess!

They haven’t cleared her yet.” In the dazzle of sunlight looking

upwards I could see that the two masts were almost separated; they now

seemed to be locked only somewhere high up. The taller Sirena leaned

over Esmerelda at an angle and there was a hellish tangle of lines,

broken spars and general debris scattered everywhere. The motor launch

still hung astern but from where we stood there was no sign of our

dinghy.

“They’re still busy,” Geordie murmured. “We’ll make for the winch. We

can hide there while we try to open the cable hold.” There was nobody

at the wheel but ahead I could see knots of men at the foot of each

mast. Some were up the masts working to free the wreckage, and I hoped

to God they were too occupied to look down and spot us.

“We’ll have to chance it,” Geordie said, and gestured to Ian to follow

us. We ran forward in a crouch, keeping to the shadow of the deck

house. At the end of it Geordie paused, caught my arm and pointed.

There was a slight movement in the shadow of the winch drum, and to get

there we would have no further cover.

“Bill – or Taffy,” he breathed.

A. hand came out into the light and fumbled with the fastenings of the

hatch cover. Ahead the men on board Sirena seemed to be watching the

attempt to clear the mast or looking back towards Falcon, and there was

a good chance that they wouldn’t see a man if he moved stealthily

across the deck. A wild dash would be suicide.

The disembodied hand was still working on the hatch cover. “I’m going

to undo the -other side,” I said quietly to Geordie. “Cover me.”

A rumble came clearly across the water from Falcon cutting through all

other noises, and the red flashes of light in the black cloud suddenly

flared higher. Voices were raised in alarm and there was a stampede of

running footsteps. The diversion was well timed and I slid along the

deck, clutching for the edge of the hatch, and pulled myself to lie

close alongside. Groping for the catches, I saw that my companion

was

Bill Hunter. I had released one catch and was attacking the other when

there was the sharp crackle of gunfire and a thunder of feet. Ian

and

Geordie were on their knees, firing at Sirena’s men who were pounding

aft towards us.

A contorted face loomed over me, the butt of a rifle poised over my

skull. I jerked to one side and it slammed into the deck. Then I

heard the distinctive’spaat’of Campbell’s target pistol and my

assailant grew a third eye in the middle of his forehead and crashed on

top of me.

I shoved his body aside and grabbed for the hatch. The second catch

came free and Bill and I heaved the cover up and flung it open.

Four men came boiling out of it, ready for blood.

Geordie screamed, “Aft! Get aftV We all tumbled down behind the

deckhouse. More shots rang out and Ian scored a hit. The rest of

Sirena’s crew retreated back to the mast as covering fire came from on

board their ship. It seemed to come from their deckhouse, but it was

hard to tell in the confusion. Geordie looked us over, counting heads

and to my intense pleasure the face of Jim Taylor was amongst them.

At least one of the dinghy crew was safe, which gave me hope for Rex

Larkin. Bill gave me a quick thumbs-up sign Sporadic fire came from

Sirena. There was at least one sharpshooter up the mainmast, and

Geordie ducked as a bullet sent splinters flying just above his head.

“This is no good,” he said. “There’s not enough cover, and, we’re

running out of ammo.” Then came the methodically spaced shots from

Campbell’s pistol. There was a scream from the yardarm and a dark

fipre, fell, all spinning arms and legs, to Sirena’s deck.

Geordie got us moving aft, leaving Nick and Ian to cover our retreat.

In the companionway Campbell was reloading the pistol as we swarmed

below. His lips were curled back in a fierce grin. He motioned us

aside curtly and aimed at the yardarm, crouching to steady himself in

the hatch, Another body plummetted down, this time into the sea.

I jaw, “That’s the lot,”Campbell said. He looked drawn and white and

near the end of his endurance. In the passageway Clare was standing

with her pistol held in a steady hand. The alarm in her face subsided

when she saw us. I caught and held her briefly.

The men gathered below and there was a swift redistribution of

weapons.

Nick lifted a brawny fist. “I won’t need a gun,” he said.

He was holding a huge stillson wrench.

A few more shots came from above but they died away, and a short time

later Nick and Taffy reported that Esmerelda was clear of enemies below

decks at least. With the exception of my brother.

Jim and Geordie went to reconnoitre the forward companionway, after a

brief word with Campbell. Somehow he persuaded the Canadian to stay

back in the saloon with Mark, Paula and Clare, and I forebore to ask

him whether he’d done it by tact or threat. I was deeply relieved,

either way.

“They’ve retreated – they’re all aboard Sirena.” Geordie was back with

a report. “I didn’t see any sign of Ramirez, but Hadley’s all over the

place, bellowing orders. He’s making a right foul-up of the job too.

We’re still locked on, damn them.” “What about Falcon?” I asked.

“The same as before – it’s pretty fierce out there. But we’ve checked

the engines and there’s no sabotage there, thank the lord.

We’re going to have to get clear of Sirena and away bloody fast as soon

as we can.

But how?” We all looked at one another, desperately searching for

ideas.

Geordie swung round to Hunter. “Bill, how did you get back on board?

And where’s Rex. Is he okay?” Bill didn’t know about Danny yet, but

I’d seen his eyes scanning our bunch and he looked grim. It took him a

moment to reply.

“I’m sorry, skipper – we lost him. We saw some of Sirena’s lot take

over the launch. They held guns on our lads and threw them a line to

haul them in. They hadn’t seen us, so I got Rex and Jim here to

slipover the dinghy side and we swamped her.

Jim and I got back on board okay, up our ladder, but we had Rex between

us and when Esmerelda lurched over he – let go.

God, Geordie, I-‘ “You did your best. It’s another one to chalk up to

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Categories: Desmond Bagley
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