Rhodes nodded. “When this spring is unwound it releases this other spring and that drives this detonator pin here down against a shotgun shell that’s in the mine itself and that discharges the explosives. All we have to do is check how long the spring takes to unwind when it’s threaded through all three gates. We can set it for two hours and time it. If it moves the detonator pin at the right time we’ve fixed it.”
“Bloody genius I’m with!” Struthers said.
“No genius,” Rhodes whispered. “Most explosive devices are pretty simple. Except torpedoes. Working on a torpedo is like working on a watch.” He set the timer for two hours and wound the spring and put the mechanism in his pocket and checked his watch. An hour and fifty-five minutes later he took the mechanism out of his pocket and laid it on the leaf mold in front of him, his eyes on his watch. The mechanism functioned at two hours and five seconds.
Struthers nodded in satisfaction. “Let’s crawl out to where we came in last night, cobber. I want to take a look-see at the ground we’ll be walkin’ over tonight. Don’t fancy barging off into the dark over ground I haven’t seen. Done that too many times in my life, it scares me.”
They crawled on their bellies under the thick thatch of thorns until they came to the place where they had entered the thorn bush. They looked out through the leaves at the harbor.
There were small boats milling about in the harbor, moving back and forth between several ships that appeared to be very low in the water. The first ship that had been mined lay on its side, its rusted bottom gleaming in the sunlight.
“I count eight of the ships down low in the water, they must be sitting on the bottom,” Rhodes whispered. “And that first one that rolled over. The other two we mined don’t seem to have any damage.”
“Nine of eleven is a bloody good score!” Struthers said in a low voice. “Hard to see how a little mine like that could do so much damage.”
“It’s a hydraulic principle,” Rhodes whispered. “You can’t compress water to any measurable degree. When the mine goes off it blows a hole about a foot in diameter in the ship’s hull. At the same time it blows a bunch of water back from the ship. When the water rushes back it’s like a big hammer or a can opener. It opens up the hole the mine made, opens it up to maybe six feet wide.”
“What do you suppose our other mine will do to our fat friend?” Struthers staring blue eyes were sparkling with glee. “Open up his bloody bowels, that’s what!”
The Mako had just completed a turn to make another run past the harbor mouth when the first muffled crump of an explosion was heard on the bridge. Captain Hinman jammed his binoculars against his eyes with such force that the rubber eyepieces collapsed and the adjusting screw opened a cut on his nose. The soft Southern voice of Grabnas on the stern lookout reached down to the bridge.
“Saw white water bubblin’ in the harbor, Bridge. More of that white water, fathah in, suh.” As he spoke the faint sound of a half-dozen explosions reached across the water.
“Now I can see some flashes in the harbor, Bridge!” Grabnas’ soft voice had sharpened. “Looks like gunfire to me, Bridge!”
The sharp, barking sound of distant guns reached the Mako. The Gunner’s Mate, pressed into service as an extra bridge-level lookout, cocked a professional ear.
“Anti-aircraft fire,” he said. “Three-inch stuff.”
Captain Hinman had come forward to the bridge. “You sure of that, Guns?”
“Yes, sir,” Dick Smalley said. The steady bark of the guns was plainer now. Hinman steadied his elbows on the bridge rail and looked through his night binoculars. He could see the flashes of the guns plainly. The loudspeaker on the bridge rasped.
“Does the Captain want a course into the harbor?” Joe Sirocco’s voice was calm.
“I want it but I’m not ready to commit yet,” Hinman snapped. He swung his glasses around as a battery of guns, much closer to Mako, began to roar.
“Five-inch stuff, Captain,” Smalley said. “Over on that point, there, south of the harbor.”
“Can they depress those guns for use against surface ships?” Hinman asked.
“Most five-inch batteries are dual purpose, sir,” Smalley said. “I think they’d be able to do that. They must think they’re bein’ hit by an air raid over there.”
“Do you think the mines went off, that they think they might be getting an air raid?” Hinman said to Grilley. “I can’t believe that!”
“It could be,” Grilley said. “They don’t know we’re here. What worries me is why the mines are going off. They were set to go off at five in the morning.”
“How about that, Smalley?” Hinman said.
“We were ordered not to mess with the timing devices, sir,” Smalley said. “The mines could have prematured. If they did the Jap would have a helluva time figuring out what was happening. They sure as hell are shooting the sky full of holes so they must think they’ve been hit by an air raid.”
Grabnas spoke up from his stern lookout. “Ah see small craft lights in the harbor, Bridge, Lots of small craft.”
“Where in the hell are our people?” Hinman snapped. “Damn it to hell, they should be on their way back if the mines prematured! They’ll have no chance at all if there’s small craft in the harbor!”
“Maybe they hid themselves,” Smalley said.
“Where the hell do you hide in a harbor, man!” Hinman’s voice was harsh. “Use your head!”
“Maybe they headed for the beach and hid themselves,” Smalley said stubbornly. “I talked to that Major’s sergeant back in Exmouth Gulf, the guy who brought the Major’s gear along.
“That Major is one tough son of a bitch. He was in a prison camp in New Guinea and he strangled a guard and went over the fence carrying his skipper on his back. His skipper was sick. Japs hunted them for three weeks. The Major stayed in back of the Japs instead of in front of them. He lived on their garbage and he carried his skipper across the Owen Stanley mountains on his back and into Port Moresby. His sergeant says he’s one smart bastard. He might have headed for the beach and hid out.”
“I hope so,” Hinman said. “That would be the only chance they’d have. They couldn’t escape from that harbor now.”
The Mako patrolled off the harbor for the rest of the night. As dawn neared the big submarine made its way out into deep water and submerged. As soon as the ship had settled down into the routine of the all-day dive Captain Hinman called his officers into the Wardroom.
“From what we could see from the bridge,” he began, “it appears that our people got the mines in place but they began to premature. The harbor was alerted. God only knows where our people are right now. We hope they got ashore and are hiding somewhere.
“But that’s only a guess. But if they did get ashore they’d expect that we would be here when they come back out. And we will be here! I’ll stay here for a month if I have to!
“Until we know what happened, until we have to give up hope, I want you to take evasive action no matter what you sight, on the surface or submerged. As long as there is hope that our people can get back I don’t want to risk being discovered out here. Pass that word to your people. Tell them we aren’t going to abandon the Chief of the Boat and the Major come hell or high water! And impress on the lookouts the need for sharp eyes. God knows what the Jap will send here once he figures out what happened in that harbor.”
The afternoon hours ground by slowly for Rhodes and the Major, deep in the thorn bush. As evening neared they saw and heard the Japanese troops forming up for their evening meal.