Short and in passing though his instruction had been on the subject, Revell remembered the nebulous phrase ‘contact is to be avoided.’ Avoided! Damn it, it looked like he had one or more Swedish civvies about to land in his lap.
There was no perceptible movement of air when the lieutenant and Ripper entered, but the drop in temperature was instantly noticeable. Body heat, the residue from the self-heating cans, and the miniscule amounts given off by the tubes had contrived to raise the reading in the downstairs rooms to several degrees above the outside. The stuffed and papered-over broken panes, a labour of love by York, had done much to help, even though the resulting filling of the windows had still further reduced the weak light during the all too brief day.
Blood continued to drip from Hogg’s nose, and had ‘ soaked and frozen on his fur collar to create a dark spiked hedge. ‘All the demolition charges are set, Major. Anytime you want, we can mangle the artillery beyond recognition and spread it around the island. If the Ruskies don’t do it for us first.’ He stamped and shuffled his feet. His toes hurt. Each one was a distinctively separate lump of marble that throbbed where it joined his flesh. ‘What’s it down to? It’s just incredible out there.’
First brushing condensation from the dial, Cline checked the monitor. ‘Forty below, and still dropping.’
‘Get yourself some hot food. There’s coffee and soup in the kitchen.’ Noticing York rising from his seat, Revell motioned him back down, ‘They can get their own. I want you to stay on the radio, start checking Swedish naval and coastguard frequencies. I want to know if that boat has so much as a CB set on board.’
Holding a near dead-straight course for the north of the island, the small trace had now covered half the distance. Cline let his mind riffle through a pack of speculations, but held back from offering any of them. He could smell the coffee being poured, could have done with another cup himself. Was it his imagination, or could he also feel its warmth? It was as if a narrow shaft of warmed air was wafting from the filled mugs and brushing past him. Again he inhaled the aroma, softer this time, the lieutenant was putting a dollop of condensed milk in his, having to gouge the barely fluid sweet white cream from the tin with his fingernails. Tearing himself away from the contemplation of the hot food, Cline turned back to the screen and forced himself to concentrate. The cold must be affecting his eyes, the screens looked dimmer, their pictures fuzzy and poorly defined. A hard blink and a second look brought no improvement, then he saw the dials. ‘Major, we’re losing…’
All three screens went blank and the glow faded from-every dial and digital display. The room was plunged into darkness.
‘Switch to batteries.’ In the long moment of silence that followed the failure of the equipment, Revell became aware that he could no longer hear the drone of the generator.
The fact that it was pitch-black made no difference, Cline didn’t need the beam from the torch that was turned towards the panels to find the controls he needed, using touch alone he pinpointed them as the brilliant pencil of light flashed into his face and forced him to close his eyes against its brightness. Slowly be opened them, faster as they registered that the harsh glare was gone, to find it being replaced by the soft sickly aura of the screens.
‘Using all the systems, we can only run two hours on the batteries. If I cut the peripherals and only keep a couple of the principal functions, say the air-watch and surface radar, I can stretch it to five. We can always switch the others back in if we need to.’
‘OK, do that. At least until we find what’s the matter with the generator. Let the gunners out at the sites know what we’re doing before you shut down. Tell them to double their guards.’
‘That’ll please them. Right now they’ll be just starting to get nice and snug in their little tents.’
The voice was Burke’s. Revel recognised the gruff tones, even though he couldn’t see the man, somewhere at the back of the crowd that had come in the doorway. ‘Let’s see if a dose of work will cure that wagging tongue of yours. You’re the expert with engines, fix the generator. I want to know the moment you trace the fault. Sergeant Hyde!’
‘Sir.’
The men parted to let the NCO through.
‘We’ve got visitors.’ A glance Revell took at the screen showed the unidentified craft still on course for the island. ‘It’s probably, almost certainly, civvies. I’d be happier if they didn’t find us, but if they do trip over a launch site, then I’ll be very unhappy if we don’t grab them before they get back to their boat. We can always figure out what to do with them later. I don’t want them running off and squawking, and bringing half the Swedish navy and air-force down on us before we’ve had the chance to carry out our mission.’
‘How many men shall I take?’ Hyde began to fasten his snow-suit. ‘I’ll be taking them, Sergeant.’
It was Hogg who pushed to the front this time. A pillar of steam rose from his coffee. He stepped in front of the major and the vapour rising from the mug created a curtain between them.
‘If you’re figuring I can’t see the state you’re in behind that smokescreen, you’re wrong. You’ve done enough, Lieutenant, you’re in no condition to go out again for a while. When you’ve finished that get yourself upstairs to the medic, see if he can stop that bleeding, before you drain away.’
‘When I’m in the open it dries up, I feel fine.’
‘It doesn’t dry up, it freezes up; and smokescreen or no smokescreen you don’t look fine. You look like a victim in a horror movie.’
‘Message coming in, Major.’ Hand poised over the printout, York tore the strip off the instant the machine stopped. He leant back and stretched to hand it to Revell.
‘This is it, we’re in business. The latest satellite pictures show twelve major surface units moving out of Russian waters into the Baltic, and it looks like there’s more to come. Twenty-five escort ships have moved from their berths in Polish and East German ports. They’re probably going to meet up inside Swedish territorial limits, and we can expect upward revisions on those figures.’
‘Going to be a big party. I love parties.’ Dooley’s huge grin matched in width and display of teeth that which Hogg had permanently worn until the flying debris had made forming it painful.
‘Find him some work, Sergeant. We could do with a few slit-trenches around the house, and check with Libby, see what he’s managed to get into working order in the way of support weapons. What he hasn’t fixed by now he’ll have to leave.’
‘What about the boat, Major? It’ll be making landfall in the next ten minutes or so.’ Hyde could see the chance of a little independent action slipping away from him. Bugger, and he’d been looking forward to the opportunity of operating as his own boss again, even if only for an hour or two. It would have been almost like the old days, before he’d joined the Special Combat Company, when he’d had his own tank-busting unit.
Hogg had not been slow to see the changed circumstances might be turned to his advantage. He jumped in. ‘If you reckon the sergeant is fitter, Major, he’ll be more use to you around here. Maybe I’ll be better out of the way, strolling about keeping an eye on our late season tourists.’