“I could do with some of that grub,” Struthers said. “I like that rice they eat.”
Night descended with the abrupt suddenness that is common in the tropics. When it was full dark and the camp was quiet Rhodes and Struthers made their final preparations. Struthers held a tiny pen-sized flashlight, hooding its glow in his hand so that Rhodes could set the timing device on the mine. Then they moved toward the fence.
“Let me go first,” Struthers said. “My sort of game, you know. I’ll dig under and go inside and look about. Then I’ll come back and you come through.”
“Better check that fence to see if they’ve got it wired,” Rhodes said.
“Haven’t a bloody meter in your pocket have you?” the Major whispered. “Chances are it isn’t wired. This place was probably an old coconut plantation, lots of those hereabouts. Grew the nuts for the copra, the husk, you know.” He dug at the edge of the fence. “Leaf mold, easy to move aside.” He began to dig with his hands. Then he wriggled under the fence and disappeared. He was back in ten minutes.
“Did a bit of a recon,” he whispered. “All’s as quiet as the bloody grave! Going to be a piece of cake, this! Follow me. I’ll go under and then you hand me the bloody mine and come along.” Rhodes nodded and squirmed through under the fence. He got to his feet and moved to the dim bulk of the bath house and went underneath where the Major was waiting, the mine in his arms. Rhodes reached up and very gently scratched at the floor of the bath house.
“It’s tin or some kind of metal,” he whispered. “Give me the mine and I’ll activate it. When I get ready to put it up you put your fingers under the edge of the mine in case I slip. I don’t want it to bang against the metal when the magnet takes hold.”
“Put it over near the door,” Struthers whispered. “Bit harder to see there.” They placed the mine carefully, both of them holding their breath and freezing, almost motionless, as the mine made a slight click against the metal flooring. They crouched beneath the bath house, searching the compound with their eyes. Then they drifted back to the fence, two dark shadows in the night. Rhodes backed through the trench Struthers had dug and the Major followed him, smoothing the leaf mold back into the trench as he backed through.
They crawled through the thorn bush, dragging the kayak with them, until they reached the place where they had entered the bush the night before. Struthers went outside of the bush and lay quiet for five minutes, his sharp blue eyes studying the area. Then he stood up and waited, searching for some evidence of movement in the area. He reached down and touched Rhodes.
“Nothing stirring that I can see,” he whispered. “But as my little Ghurka friends used to say, ‘Notwithstanding, we’ll go as quietly as death.’ ”
They moved down the beach toward the mouth of the harbor, keeping close to the edge of the scattered bushes that grew along the long spit of land. When they had gone more than half-way to the harbor mouth Struthers stopped.
“Might as well turn this show over to you, cobber. The going is getting muckier by the yard. Might as well be paddling as trying to walk in this shit.” They crouched and swiftly assembled the kayak. As they carried the small craft out into the water the Major grinned.
“Think that bloody captain of yours will be waitin’? If he isn’t we’ve a long paddle to New Britain and I don’t want to go there at all!”
“He’ll be waiting,” Rhodes said.
“Wish I had as much confidence in my senior officers,” the Australian said as he settled himself in the kayak’s rear seat and took hold of his double-ended paddle. “I always considered the buggers to be a bit daft, you know. You’re the sailor, your show now, which way do we go?”
“I’d like to hug the shoreline until we get to the harbor entrance,” Rhodes said. “Less chance of being seen, less chance of being set off course by currents or tides. Once we get near the harbor entrance we can cut over and head out and see if we can find the ship.”
At the entrance to the harbor Rhodes changed course and the kayak steadied on a heading where he thought the Mako’s superstructure called out.
“Bridge! Red light! Very dim, low down to the water!” Captain Hinman scrambled up to stand alongside the lookout.
“Where, son?” He focused his glasses as the lookout pointed out the light. “Mr. Grilley, it’s them! Pass the word below that we have our people in sight!” He scrambled down to the bridge level.
“I’ll take the deck, Don. Get your party ready to take them aboard. Be careful in case they’re hurt.” He bent to the bridge speaker.
“This is the Captain. We are going to pick up our people. Ginty and Aaron to the deck with Mr. Grilley. Machine gunners to the bridge with weapons. Deck gun crews stand by in the Control Room. Mr. Sirocco, flood bow buoyancy and stand by to blow!”
Rhodes heard the long sigh of air leaving the bow buoyancy tank before he saw the Mako’s dark bulk against the moonless sky.
“Skipper’s flooding down forward so we can paddle aboard,” he said over his shoulder. “Told you the Old Man would be here!”
They paddled the kayak up to the forward gun sponson and Struthers jumped in surprise as a roar up forward indicated that bow buoyancy tank was being blown dry to raise the deck above water.
The two men packaged the kayak and Struthers hoisted it to the cigaret deck.
“Take good care of this beauty, mate. Fine little boat.”
Captain Hinman shook both men’s hands as they climbed over the bridge rail.
“Damned glad to have you back, fellas. Now we can haul ass out of here.”
“Beggin’ pardon, sir,” Struthers said. “Is it possible to stay here in this place for a bit, say until about five-thirty ack emma or shortly after? We left a surprise package for the Jap and we’d like to see if he opened it.”
Captain Hinman looked at the Australian and then at Dusty Rhodes, who nodded slightly.
“Maybe you’d better tell me what this is all about,” Hinman said.
“Happy to do that,” Struthers said cheerfully. “Do you think we could do it over a spot of tucker and some hot tea? Been a good while since we had our last bread and water, so to speak.”
“I’m sorry,” Captain Hinman said. “Mr. Grilley, secure the deck crew and the gunners, resume regular sea detail, resume the Night Orders until you hear from me. All lookouts maintain a very sharp lookout.” He followed Rhodes and Struthers down below.
Tommy Thompson had a platter of sandwiches on a tray and pots of steaming coffee and tea set out on the Wardroom table.
“You eat in here, in the Wardroom, Chief,” Captain Hinman said. “I’m not going to stand on custom after an operation of this sort. Tom, will you please ask Chief Maxwell to come in with his notebook? After you’ve eaten you can talk out the operation.”
He waited patiently, sipping at a cup of coffee and talking genially with John Maxwell, the Chief Yeoman. When Tom had refilled the cups for the third time Hinman leaned back in his chair.
“Suppose you start from the time you left the ship,” he said. “As the ranking officer, Major, you make the report. Chief Rhodes is privileged to break in any time, make any corrections or amendments to what you say. Is that all right with you?”
“Too right, Skipper,” Major Struthers said. He reached over and took one of Joe Sirocco’s cigarets and lit it and then be began to talk. When he had finished the part about mining the bath house Captain Hinman looked at him, a tiny grin playing around his mouth.
“Biggest practical joke I ever heard of!” he said admiringly. “But I have to think of this ship, Major.” He turned to Maxwell. “Stop writing, Chief. I’ll tell you when to start again.”
“You must be a little crazy, Major! God only knows what the Jap has got on the way here, after all the damage you two people did in that harbor! I might get caught in this harbor mouth, have you thought of that’?”